Father's House Blog

   I have heard so much over the years about ‘generational curses’. I don’t want in any way to criticize this kind of teaching. We know that negative, toxic forces can gain an entry into our lives as a result of the sins of our ancestors. But the question I want to ask is this. ‘What about generational blessings? Can we also benefit from the godly choices of those who have preceded us in our family trees?’

   When we look at the Bible there is no doubt that both do happen. Not long ago I preached a sermon series on Noah from Genesis chapters 6-9. It became very evident to me that there were two lines descending from Adam, one from Cain and the other from Seth. Cain of course killed his brother Abel. From that moment on, Cain became a ‘restless wanderer’. This feeling of restlessness, of not belonging anywhere, is right at the very core of the orphan heart and we see the results of this flowing down Cain’s ancestral line.  From Seth however, an entirely different line emerges. This is a tree producing some astonishing fruit – men like Enoch and ultimately Noah blossom on its branches. These men were shining lights in a very dark age. They were beacons of the Father’s life and light.

   I mention all this because not because I am fascinated by genealogies or family trees, but because I am convinced that righteous acts are seeds that bear fruit not just in the lifetime of the sower but also in the lives of the sower’s children, and their children’s children. Righteous acts in one generation leave a legacy in subsequent generations. They are like the seeds that are carried in the wind from a dandelion. Far and wide they plant life, way beyond the place where they are rooted.

   Recently I have been asking myself the question, ‘Where do I get my compassion for the fatherless from? Where does this heart for the orphan originate?’ No doubt it is in part from my experience of being adopted by Philip Stibbe, an amazing Christian man with a rich Jewish ancestry. He had the most amazing heart for fatherless people. As a housemaster at Bradfield College, he would frequently take on the role of a father figure to boys whose dads had died, or deserted home, or just not been there. Sometimes this would involve helping pay for their education. But most often this would simply mean being a strong emotional support to the fatherless.

   This came home to me just a few weekends ago when I was about Father’s House business, ministering in a city in the UK. During the conference, a young man came up to me and put a hand-written letter in my hand. I had been talking about my adoptive father’s book, Return via Rangoon, during the conference and he had been touched by my words. His own dad had been blessed by my father’s heart for the fatherless, and he wanted me to know that. This is what he wrote:

“I just wanted to tell you that your dad, Philip, was my dad’s housemaster at school.

My dad was loved by his own father. However his father was also very broken and emotionally distant, so my dad was broken in turn. But your father Philip didn’t give up on him and they remained friends until Philip’s death - and I believe that made all the difference.

My dad loved me with the love you have spoken of today, and I think that’s why I can know the love of our Father the way I do. Because of your dad’s love, my dad loved me, and so I came to know the love of our Heavenly Dad. Philip’s book, Return to Rangoon, is on the shelf in our living room, and my father often speaks about it with great affection. I wanted to share this in the hope that it would encourage you”.

   Often over the years I have been greatly moved and blessed by reports like this of my adoptive father’s crucial role in young men’s lives. There is no doubt that many have benefited from his compassion for those without a dad, or with physically or emotionally absent dads.

   I believe in generational blessings. I believe it is possible to make righteous choices in one generation and for these choices to flow like honey into the next generation and beyond.