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The other day I came home from work, and one of my sons was outside with wood and a drill.
I asked, “What are you building?”
He said, “I don’t know, but I need to build something.”
I went inside and told Sarah, “Did you see he’s building something outside? Where did that come from?”
She said, “He was watching videos of people building stuff and didn’t want to just watch other people do it; he wanted to build something himself.”
At The Chapel, we firmly believe that Jesus is God’s Son who showed us how to live and love, and then laid down His life so we could experience true life. He is our Lord and Savior, God and King, High Priest and Friend, and our Rabbi.
Now, in the Christian tradition, we don’t talk too much about Rabbis. But the idea is that a Rabbi is a teacher, someone who helps you wrestle with the Scriptures and grow in your faith and knowledge of God. To be a disciple means to be a student or apprentice under a Rabbi.
That doesn’t mean you show up to class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, listen to a 50-minute lecture, write a few papers, take a test, and call it a day. In Jesus’ time, you followed your Rabbi. You learned their ways. You wanted to be like them.
As I’ve said before, you want to follow so closely you’re covered in the dust of your Rabbi.
Recently, my youngest son lost one of his last baby teeth at school. On the drive home, we started talking about what happens to all those teeth the tooth fairy collects. Let me just say, the variety of suggestions on that ride ranged from, “The tooth fairy uses them in her own mouth, like a shark tooth situation,” to “Santa moonlights as the tooth fairy to help pay the bills in the off-season.”
Of course, you’re asking, But wouldn’t that cost Santa money instead of making money?
Well, naturally, he then profits by selling the teeth on the black market.
I have never laughed so hard at such a ridiculous conversation.
In that moment, I realized: our kids are becoming like us, and even adopting our humor.
They’re taking on our ways as they grow into adulthood.
Last night at dinner, we had a very serious theological conversation.
Should any food ever touch the palm of your hand?
Weird question, I know—but watch a little kid eat, and you’ll see every food group being palmed like it’s a basketball. Personally, I find that gross…but I’m also not a child, and I’m a recovering germaphobe, so maybe that’s just me.
Adults, on the other hand, tend to keep their food at the fingertips—unless it’s popcorn, nuts, or candy. Those get a pass. Otherwise, palm-to-food contact? No thank you.
Sarah and I made our case. It was clear, logical, and morally superior (obviously). No palm-to-food contact—except for small snacks. Case closed. I even triumphantly challenged the table:
“Name one food that should touch the palm of your hand.”
Keating didn’t miss a beat. “Banana,” he said.
Banana?!
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