Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is your brother Abel?” “I don’t know,” he replied. “Am I my brother’s keeper?” -Genesis 4:9
I recall an incident from my youth that left an impression on me that remains today. It regards the influence a father’s behavior can have on his son, and how much a son’s life can influence his father, and how God can work through all of it. The story of me and alcohol is a long one, but it began for me at the age of fourteen, when I first experienced the feeling of being drunk, and to my detriment, I liked it. I liked it so much that I thought of it often and took every opportunity that arose to indulge myself. I didn’t realize it at the time, nor would I have cared, but alcohol would cause me and others deep heartache throughout much of my life. The following incidents show the impact each of our lives can have upon another, in this case, in the lives of a father and a son.
One summer night, when I was fifteen, a good friend of mine and I decided to go riding around together, with alcohol consumption on my mind before we started. On this occasion, our parents decided to join one another for a night at the local drive-in movie theater, which gave us what I thought was plenty of time to accomplish my goal of getting drunk. Although we were underage, we found someone in town to buy us beer. To hasten the process, I had secretly consumed a couple of cans of my father’s Schlitz beer, stored in the garage, before my friend arrived, and I was already on my way to drunkenness before we even left the driveway.
Two or three hours later, as our parents were returning home from the movie, they spotted my friend’s car in the parking lot of the local Quick Trip. They honked and waved and continued their journey, until, that is, they recognized me, staggering around the parking lot and yelling obscenities at the top of my lungs. I can only imagine the embarrassment my parents felt as they watched me make a fool of myself in front of the world.
Returning to the parking lot, my friend’s father directed us to meet back at my house, where we were destined for an upcoming lecture. I was too drunk to realize the seriousness of the situation, but my friend, who hadn’t consumed as much and wasn’t as susceptible as me to the effects of alcohol, sobered up real fast. The following scene is etched in my mind as if it happened last night.
Well after midnight, our two fathers placed folding lawn chairs alongside our driveway and instructed my friend and me to sit on the ground in front of them. Neither of us said a word, which was the wise choice at this point. My friend, Jim, rather than sit, stood the entire time, and did a pretty good job of maintaining his composure and appearing sober. I, on the other hand, sat on the wet grass, with my knees folded under my chin, and my arms locked around them, trying to maintain my balance, but often during the lecture, while still very drunk, I would topple over, only to receive a stern warning from my father to sit up and pay attention. Over the next hour, while our two dads reprimanded us about the dangers of alcohol, underage drinking, and driving under the influence, and what detrimental effects this could have on our futures, I believe they missed the irony. For while they gave us a somber warning about what would happen if we were ever caught drinking alcohol again, each man held in his hand, and drank from, a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer.
Fast forward eight years. I was now married and had a son of my own, and two years prior, a job opportunity moved me and my young family a seven-hour drive from home. Sometime during that two- year period, my father gave his life to Jesus, and he was in the process of letting go of many of his old habits, cigarette smoking being one he gave up immediately. However, his favorite habit, drinking beer, was something about which he was wrestling with God. Even though a Christian isn’t prohibited from drinking alcohol, only from being drunk, my father was torn. He knew he had the freedom to drink if he chose, but he questioned whether he should. The answer would come through the Holy Spirit, via his son.
One Sunday, while I was nursing a serious hangover and spending time in a doghouse of my own making, I received a call from my father. He had been to church that morning, and I suppose his wayward son was in his prayers and on his mind, so he decided to give me a call and see how things were going. Once we connected, it was evident to him that I was in bad shape, and eventually I told him what I had done the night before, and how my drunkenness had hurt my wife deeply, with this being, unknown to him, a recurring pattern. I recall vividly, breaking down in tears and crying, “Dad, I can’t stop this drinking.” I was in bondage and couldn’t find a way out. During the call, he shared with me the good news, that I didn’t have to remain a slave to alcohol, that there was freedom for me in Jesus. I listened, but what he said didn’t resonate with me. We said our goodbyes and ended the call. Little did I know of the internal struggles my father was going through. He, on the other hand, was certainly aware of mine.
I often wonder what my father thought after hanging up the phone that Sunday. It surely hurt him to hear his son suffering, as he knew I was. No father enjoys seeing their child hurting, even when their child is a grown man. I wonder if he recalled that night eight years ago, when on our front driveway he lectured me and my friend about the pitfalls of drinking. And did he now see the irony? Or did he recall the many other times when he discovered his son was drunk again? Like the night he had to pick me up at the hospital emergency room, after someone found me passed out in a ditch alongside the road and called an ambulance. Or the time when my wife locked me out of the bedroom in our apartment and called my father to come and see if he could do anything with me. Or the time when he came to our apartment and found me passed out on the couch, and when he finally woke me and asked me where my car was, I couldn’t remember. There were many more such times, and many more he wasn’t aware of, but that’s enough for now. You see, the Holy Spirit was working on my father, through the life of his son. Even though I was responsible for my own choices, I think Dad realized the example he had set, and it bothered him. Several scriptures come to mind, scriptures that my dad likely knew.
But take care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak. -1 Corinthians 8:9
It is good not to eat meat or drink wine or do anything that causes your brother to stumble. -Romans 14:21
Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way. -Romans 14:13
Dad had the right, the freedom to drink, but he saw how his example was a stumbling block to me, someone whose one major weakness was alcohol.
Cain may not have realized the impact of his words, but in this sense, we are our brother’s keeper. Jesus said in Luke 17:1, “It is inevitable that stumbling blocks should come, but woe to him through whom they come!” What we do influences others, and if we become aware of our behavior leading a brother astray, we should change course. My father took this seriously. He understood Paul’s admonition in Philippians 2:3-4: Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.
The Holy Spirit, through the life of his son, had convicted my father. Even though he could have continued drinking alcohol, something he very much enjoyed, he saw someone else’s life as more important than his own. He loved his beer, but willingly gave it up and vowed to never drink again.
Meanwhile, I continued drinking. The day of that phone call with my father was one of many low points in my life. But I would need to go lower still before I would cry uncle and admit my utter helplessness. The phone call with my father didn’t have an immediate effect, but it was one of many seeds planted in my long journey to redemption. The black sheep of the family finally came home, and Jesus saved me from the bondage of alcohol. But like my father, it would be many years before I finally vowed to never again drink alcohol. That was sixteen years ago.
So, what are the lessons here? I can think of a few:
- We are our brother’s keeper; in the sense that we are responsible for our behavior that might lead a brother astray.
- God is at work, often unrecognized, in the lives of men; in this instance, a father being impacted through his son’s life and a son being impacted by his father’s.
- Although we have much freedom in Christ, along with that freedom comes responsibility.
- Never stop praying for those you love.
- The mistakes from your past may serve God’s purpose long into the future.
If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy my book, Pondering God.
Pondering God 