This morning I went for a hike in my hometown of Rancho Cucamonga with a few of my friends. As we trekked through dirt, water, rocks, and brush we eventually came to a stream that ran down a staggered hill. We decided to scale the hill so we could look back over what we had hiked.
To ascend we had to grab hold of the roots intertwined between the dirt and rocks of the hill. Without the roots we would not have been able to climb the hill at all, and thanks to the roots we were able to look back at where we had trekked with much more clarity.
As I was climbing the hill and clutching the roots I thought about my own roots, specifically my grandfather. My grandfather loved God and people deeply. He has always been a huge example and influence in my life for what it looks like to follow God in real, tangible ways.
For whatever reason, God has continued to set the example of my grandfather in front of me whenever I worship. I think the Spirit is reminding me that I did not arrive to where I am on my own. My faith was passed down to me from my grandfather to my father to me. I need to remember my roots as I progress forward. It’s only when I reflect on where my faith came from and how my person is informed by my predecessors that I can truly understand what God has been doing in my life.
God doesn’t start fresh with us. We all have roots in others who are part of the body of the church. We don’t sit alone in a room and read the Bible to become a Christian. Our faith comes from the people God places in our lives. From these roots of faith we grow in our own faith so that we too can pass it on. Take time to remember the roots of your faith and to thank God for those who passed down to you the good news of Jesus and the resurrection.