Are you standing at the crossroads?

“Stop at the crossroads and look around and ask for the old godly way and walk in it. Travel

its path and you’ll find rest for your souls, but you reply, no, that’s not the road we want.” Jeremiah 6:16

Have you ever had God impress upon you a scripture, a picture, something from a film or book that remains with you, makes you curious, or you want to know what it means? The above scripture has had that effect upon me for the last year or so.

It made me think about the path society & the church have taken over the last 50+ years. Society only seems to value people if they are productive.

David, before becoming king of Israel, went to visit his brothers, where he discovered that for forty days, Goliath mocked the Israelites and called out one man to fight him. King Saul and his soldiers were too afraid to take up the challenge.

After many conversations, David made this statement. ‘And David said, “What have I done now? Is there not a cause?” 1 Samuel 17:29

David asked the question, ‘Is there not a cause?’

As individuals and a society, we can’t put a plaster over a deep wound and expect it to heal. We must clean it out properly, use the right dressing, medication, even stitches at times. With an emotional or psychological wound, we must find the cause!  

Go to its root and deal with it.

As I began to think about the ancient pathway, the Holy Spirit dropped this scripture into my thinking.

‘Honour your father and mother, then you will live a long life in the land that the Lord your God is giving you.’ Exodus 20:12

We can read that verse so casually that we miss the enormous weight behind it.

This command was given to grown men and women—to heads of families who had walked out of Egypt. They were people who had land coming to them that they had not yet even set foot on.

The command is repeated in Deuteronomy 5:16.

There’s a connection between the quality of life, the land, society, culture and nations.

What does to honour actually mean.

The Hebrew word translated “honour” is kābēd, from the root associated with weight or heaviness.

It describes something substantial—something that cannot simply be brushed aside or treated casually.

God’s glory is His weight—His substance, His sheer reality, His presence.

When Scripture speaks about God's presence filling the Temple, this is the kind of language being used: something so real and substantial that it fills the room.

Moses encountered a burning bush.

“One day Moses was tending the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian. He led the flock far into the wilderness and came to Sinai, the mountain of God.  There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a blazing fire from the middle of a bush. Moses stared in amazement. Though the bush was engulfed in flames, it didn’t burn up.  “This is amazing,” Moses said to himself. “Why isn’t that bush burning up? I must go see it.” Exodus 3

Sometimes I think, as Christians, we have lost some of the awe and wonder when we see God moving in our midst. We walk on by; we are fearful or suspicious, doubting that it’s the Holy Spirit. Oblivious sometimes. Moses made up his mind to go and see.

It can be as simple as a phrase on a chocolate bar, a quote on an advertising board, words that someone speaks. God is communicating with us all the time, and if we aren’t paying attention, we can miss it. It’s not always the spectacular; it’s often the simple things in life.

Let’s not lose our childlikeness, and let’s not allow the world to mould us into its image and way of seeing life. We are born to make a difference in this world, to shine and show others what God is like.

Moses made excuses to God when he said that ‘he was slow of speech’. Literally, the language speaks of being “heavy of mouth” or “heavy of tongue.”

However, he fulfilled his mission.

How much weight and honour are we giving to God through our thoughts, words and actions? What effect does honour have on our families and our communities?

What can we learn from the ancient pathways?

In ancient Israel, land was divided according to families. Plots were passed from generation to generation and marked by boundaries. So much of their success or failure ran through the household. That means a command about how a family treats its oldest members carried implications far beyond the family. It reached into the very infrastructure of the nation.

So when God says, “Honour your father and mother,” He is saying:

Give them weight.Treat them as substantial.Let them count.Let them matter in the decisions you make.

Imagine a set of scales.

On one side is the command: honour.

On the other side is the promise: “that your days may be long in the land.”

There is a weight to the command, and there is a weight to the promise.

Moses says that anyone who curses their father or mother shall be put to death. Exodus 21:17

That is a terrifying thought.

The opposite of kābēd is connected to the idea of being light, trivial or weightless.

To curse someone, in this context, is to treat them as nothing—to make them so light that they can simply be blown away.

That is a powerful picture.

I struggled with my parents; I found it difficult to relate to them. My mom was so full of fear that I found it claustrophobic, and her fear contributed to her need to control and manipulate me. My dad was physically present but emotionally distant. I knew that they loved me, provided well for me, but I struggled with the whole family dynamic.

I found it difficult to buy cards with sentimental words as I didn’t feel those emotions.

There were no siblings to bear the weight with.

As a young Christian, I must have read that scripture many times, but it hadn’t impacted my spirit. When my mom was dying with cancer, I had a young child and was 4 months pregnant; it was hard, tiring, and there was so much going on, and the worst part was that the church was the main culprit of the difficulties.

I did my best to show care, but there were times I resented the responsibility and felt guilty. The night that she died, I was too tired to visit and made arrangements to go the next day. I’d go visit every day, sit with her, but I couldn’t deal or really accept that she was dying. Looking back, I think she wanted to say so much but couldn’t because she knew that I was in denial.

God was so good during that time; He carried me through, and when my eyes were finally open to that scripture, it was the power of his love that released me from the guilt that I carried.

Scripture isn’t there to beat us up; it’s there to help us receive all that Jesus paid for. Our inheritance, the abundant life he spoke of in John 10:10.

God doesn’t hold us accountable for scripture we have no understanding of; it’s when we wilfully choose to dishonour or disobey that we face the consequences of our own actions. It’s just as important to forgive ourselves as it is to forgive others.

To honour someone is to give them weight.To dishonour them is to make them weightless.

God took this so seriously that it became part of the civil code governing the welfare of the nation.

That helps us understand why the fifth commandment cannot simply be reduced to the word “obey.”

Hebrew has different words for listening, obeying and honouring.

And Paul, in Ephesians, keeps these ideas apart in the same paragraph.

He says: “Children, obey your parents in the Lord.”

Then: “Honour your father and mother.”

Obedience has a particular context and limit. As a 40yr old son or daughter, we don’t have to obey our parents regarding aspects of our lives, like what job to choose or what holiday to go on. As a young child, we are expected to obey our parents, presuming that our parents aren’t abusive in any way, shape or form.

Obedience applies while under the roof of a parent, whereas honour never expires.

Ancient Israel had no modern welfare system. There was no state pension.No social care system.No life insurance.No modern healthcare.No government safety net.

Older people survived through their adult children.

The family was the safety net.

So, honouring a parent wasn't simply about having warm feelings towards them. It was about preserving the family, protecting the vulnerable and maintaining the health of the wider community.

And it didn't end at death.

They were to bury their dead with dignity, and the family name was carried forward.

My mom wanted her ashes scattered in the garden of her house, so we did this.

We honoured her wishes and had a little service in the garden. It was November, and as I began to scatter her ashes, the wind blew them back onto me. I couldn’t help but smile, and I felt no condemnation; in fact, I felt the Lord’s pleasure.

Don’t beat yourself up if you’ve failed to honour, or give weight to God, parents or others; simply acknowledge it, repent and learn from the past, so that you can live a holy life as instructed to.

Abraham bought a cave to bury Sarah.

Joseph carried Jacob's bones out of Egypt and back to the land of promise at enormous cost.

The principle of the fifth commandment was already being lived out before it was ever written down.

Pull out one strand and the household begins to unravel.

This thread runs through Proverbs:‘Listen to your father, who gave you life, and don’t despise your mother when she is old.’ Proverbs 23:22

Ancient Israel understood contempt for a parent as a threat to the whole community.

Because a society that discards its elderly has already decided that people are only worth what they can produce.

God gave further instructions in Leviticus 19:1-3

“The Lord also said to Moses, ‘Give the following instructions to the entire community of Israel. You must be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy. Each of you must show great respect for your mother and father, and you must always observe my Sabbath days of rest. I am the Lord your God.’”

We are already righteous, ‘How? you ask. In Christ. God put the wrong on him who never did anything wrong, so we could be put right with God.’ 2 Corinthians 5:21

We choose to live a holy life!

We can even honour abusive parents, boundaries and the way we speak of them. If nothing else, we can thank God for them for giving us life.

One command concerns people, the other concerns time set apart for God. And they are joined together in a single breath as part of the opening definition of what a holy life looks like.

There is something else interesting here: the order of the names changes.

In Exodus 20, it is father and mother.

In Leviticus 19, it is mother and father.

In a culture where the father was normally named first, there is a beautiful picture of balance here. Neither parent is to be treated as insignificant. Both carry weight.

And both commands are telling us to stop and give weight to something that may not necessarily be producing anything for us at that moment.

The Sabbath interrupts your work.

An ageing parent interrupts your schedule.

Both require you to stop and recognise that something has value beyond its immediate productivity.

The fifth commandment is like a seam.

The first four commandments concern our relationship with God.

The following commandments move into our relationships with other people.

And the fifth commandment sits right in the middle.

It is almost like a seam holding the two sides together.

It is covenanting language concerning a people, a nation and its prosperity.

Israel's prosperity depended upon whether they would live according to God's instructions—and the treatment of vulnerable people sat close to the heart of that.

The commandment isn't merely about individual family relationships.

It describes how a community is meant to work.

A culture that honours and gives weight to its elderly builds something that lasts.

But a culture that treats people as dead weight teaches its young exactly what will happen to them the moment they stop being useful.

And when that happens, society is already dying—whatever its economy looks like.

Children watch.

Children learn.

Children imitate.

God told Israel to care for its elderly, and He attached a promise to the command.

It is like a father explaining to a child not only what to do, but why it matters.

Paul opens this principle up in Ephesians 6:3:

“If you honour your father and mother, ‘things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.’”

The specific promise concerning the land of Israel falls away in the New Testament, but the principle remains.

Jesus addressed this very issue in Mark 7.

The religious leaders had created a loophole—a man-made tradition that allowed people to bypass their responsibility to their parents. Jesus called it a violation of the fifth commandment.

In other words, Jesus put a price tag on the word honour.

Honour means giving weight.

Paul tells Timothy that anyone who refuses to provide for their own household has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.

This isn't sentimentality.

This is biblical responsibility.

Malachi confronted the priests who were bringing inferior animals to sacrifice to God.

They were giving God what cost them little.

They were not giving God weight.

The issue runs right through Scripture:

What do we give weight to?Who do we give weight to?What do we treat as substantial?And what do we treat as disposable?

Honour does not mean agreement

Obedience has a limit.Honour has no limit.

Our loyalty to God outranks our loyalty to family.

Honouring someone doesn't mean agreeing with everything they say.

It doesn't mean approving everything they do.

Honour is about how we treat people, even when we disagree with them.

And that principle extends beyond biological parents.

We give weight to mothers and fathers in ministry.

We give weight to one another.

We give weight to those who have gone before us.

We give weight to people who may no longer have the influence, strength or productivity they once had.

And that carries consequences—blessing or curse, life or death.

Because culture is teaching our children constantly:

Who to honour.What to honour.How to honour.

And they are watching us.

Jesus demonstrated honour

Even from the cross, Jesus demonstrated this principle.

“When Jesus saw his mother standing there beside the disciple he loved, he said to her, ‘Dear woman, here is your son.’ And he said to this disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from then on this disciple took her into his home.” John 19:26–27

In His final moments, Jesus made provision for His mother.

He gave weight to her. He honoured her.

And perhaps that is where all of this comes back to us.

We live in a culture increasingly obsessed with productivity, usefulness, youth, influence and personal autonomy.

But God says:

Give weight to what I tell you has weight.

Give weight to your parents.

Give weight to the elderly.

Give weight to the vulnerable.

Give weight to one another.

Give weight to truth.

Give weight to God's presence.

Give weight to His Word.

Give weight to the things the world tells you are disposable.

Because when a society decides that people only have value while they are useful, it has already begun to destroy itself.

But when a people learn to honour—to give weight, dignity and value—something begins to be rebuilt.

A culture of honour produces a people who understand weight.

And perhaps David's question comes back to us:

“Is there not a cause?”

Maybe the question isn't only, “What's wrong with our society?”

Maybe we need to ask:

What have we stopped giving weight to?

And what happens when the people, the family of God, begin to give weight again to the things God says matter? Selah.