In Prophetic Untimeliness Os Guinness argued, successfully I think, that our culture has an irrational and dangerous fixation on the present and future. Our emphasis on the latest and greatest comes at the expense of all that the past has to offer us. Tragically, this distaste of the past has become prevalent in the past and we, as Christians, risk having to re-learn lessons that we would already know were we to keep one eye fixed firmly in the past.

The League of Grateful Sons is an organization dedicated to preserving memories from the past, and in particular, the memories of fathers who fought during the Second World War—to pass the legacy of these men to another generation. This war took the lives of 182,000 American fathers. Hundreds of thousands of fathers did return, but many of these never took the opportunity to share their legacy with their children. With thousands of war veterans dying every day, the opportunities are growing ever more seldom. But within the ranks of these survivors of the war are a collection of men who made it their life mission to tell others of the providences of God and the meaning of manhood. These men have sought to share their experiences with later generations and to begin to build a legacy in their sons and their grandsons. We can honor God by honoring these men and encouraging them to share their what God has taught them. They can, in turn, honor God by attempting to leave a legacy for coming generations.

The Faith of Our Fathers Project has released a DVD entitled The League of Grateful Sons that examines a few of these great war heroes as they return to one of the bloodiest and most infamous battlefields of the war: Iwo Jima. The film introduces “Colonel” Bell Henderson, a hardened Marine who maintained moral purity throughout the war, Bill Brown, a fighter pilot who was shot down and later rescued, and other men who fought bravely for a cause they believed in. It follows them as, for the first time in sixty years, they walk upon the black sands of Iwo Jima. But this time, rather than being accompanied by their friends, they walk arm-in-arm with their sons and grandsons. They pause and reflect, recalling events still as clear in their minds today as they were six decades ago. They share the past so they can build a better future.

“Our goal with The League of Grateful Sons,” writes Doug Phillips,” is to honor the sacrifice for freedom made by these men, and all who fought during the Second World War, and to pass on their legacy to the next generation. May this story inspire you and your family to keep their memory alive, and to preserve the heritage of your own fathers for generations to come.” This story is inspirational. It is deeply and profoundly moving. It is a testament to the power of God, not only in his acts of providence in the lives of these brave men, but in motivating them to share their stories with a generation in desperate need of godly heroes.

The League of Grateful Sons is a beautiful film that will move you to tears and leave you grateful for the peace we enjoy today, and for the brave men that fought for that peace, several generations ago.

You can watch a trailer here, and can order it either from The Vision Forum or Amazon:

I love, respect and appreciate the ministry of John Piper. I have learned a great deal through his teaching and am convinced that I will continue to do so in the years ahead. Much of what Piper has taught has resounded deeply within my soul and has helped shape and mold my faith. Yet despite all of this, I find his books difficult to read and truthfully, often finding reading them to be something of a chore. I don’t really understand it. Still, because I have always benefitted from reading his books, I do try to read new ones as they are released.

Yesterday, after seeing it on my shelf for the better part of a year (first in pre-release and now in a printed copy), I decided I would read God Is The Gospel (perhaps because we are moving this week and it is one of the few books that has escaped my wife’s attempt to corral and contain my entire library in cardboard boxes). I was only a few pages into the book when I found a passage, a question, that left me nearly undone. Piper is discussing the gospel and the full message it contains. He asks about heaven:

The critical question for our generation—and for every generation—is this: If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties you ever say, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ was not there?

That question led me to put down the book and to spend a few moments in self-examination. I had to admit, to my great shame, that there are many times in my life where I feel that I could be perfectly content to consider a Christless heaven—a heaven that did not include the one who purchased my redemption so that I could be there in the first place.

This took me back to the very first page of God Is The Gospel. There Piper, having challenged the reader to understand that “The best and final gift of the gospel is that we gain Christ,” says, “In place of this, we have turned the love of God and the gospel of Christ into a divine endorsement of our delight in many lesser things, especially the delight in our being made much of.” Of all the gifts God offers, I continue to embrace the love of God as the gift of everything but Himself. I have a faulty understanding of what it means to be loved. “Our fatal error is believing that wanting to be happy means wanting to be made much of. It feels so good to be affirmed. But the good feeling is finally rooted in the worth of self, not the worth of God. This path to happiness is an illusion.”

And he is right. And so we return to the question: If I could have a heaven that was built around all I wanted and all I loved and all I desired at my weaker moments, would this satisfy me? I know in my heart of hearts that it would not, for I know that it would not be heaven if Christ were not present. But in my day-to-day life, I know that I often consider heaven as being a place where what is most important to me is what is most important to me here on earth. This would be true, if only Christ were always foremost in my thoughts here and now.

Piper challenges Christian leaders:

Do we preach and teach and lead in such a way that people are prepared to hear that question and answer with a resounding No? How do we understand the gospel and the love of God? Have we shifted with the world from God’s love as the gift of himself to God’s love as the gift of a mirror in which we like what we see? Have we presented the gospel in such a way that the gift of the glory of God in the face of Christ is marginal rather than central and ultimate?

In heaven it will be Christ Himself, not His gifts, that are the supreme pleasure. This makes our culture’s obsession with heaven all the more ridiculous. Surveys of North Americans continue to show that most people want to go to heaven and most feel that they indeed will go to heaven. Yet the vast majority of those surveyed are not Christians. Why would a person want to go to heaven if the ultimate pleasure of heaven is a person they hate or deny? What happiness would be found in such a place? What joys could there be for one who has refused to take joy in Christ while sojourning here on earth? Maybe the most difficult question to face is whether this misunderstanding of heaven is one that exists only outside the church, or whether we, as those who profess Christ, have made heaven out to be a place that exists primarily for our pleasure—a place that substitutes something other than Christ as the great and final gift.

Piper closes this short section with a reflection. “Nothing fits a person to be more useful on earth than to be more ready for heaven. This is true because readiness for heaven means taking pleasure in beholding the Lord Jesus, and beholding the glory of the Lord means being changed into his likeness.”

I wrote this article this morning after spending some quiet time with God. I can’t express the longing that I felt in this time to desire Christ above all else. I can’t describe just how much I wanted to long to be with Christ and to desire Him as the great and final gift of heaven and earth. How I wanted to know Him in that way here and now, and not to have to wait for heaven to delight in the Savior in such a way that He is what I want above all else. Oh, that I would desire Christ above health and friends and food and leisure and beauty and and pleasure and all manner of earthly satisfaction!

The history of the church is so wide, so long, so vast, that it is intimidating to even begin a study of it. Yet the study of church history is exceedingly important, for only in understanding where the church has come from can we truly understand who we are and where we are going. In the past I have tried to read several series and one-volume histories of the church. Some have been wonderful and others have left a lot to be desired. Recently I decided to try reading The Baker History of the Church. The five-part series (four of which are currently available) begins with The Birth of the Church which covers the early history of the church, stretching from the death of Jesus to Constantine’s rise to power in AD 312—so roughly three hundreds years of history.

A few years ago my wife and I decided that we would invest in sets of toys, rather than buying seemingly random pieces of various sets. We learned this lesson the hard way, actually, as when my son was young, we would buy him toys based on criteria little more advanced than simply purchasing what caught our eyes in the toy story as we shopped a day or two before his birthday. But as he got older, and as we added a daughter to the mix, we came to see the value of buying sets of toys. Playmobil has quickly turned into a favorite, so now, whenever the time comes to buy the children a gift, we tend to buy another Playmobil set.

The kids are building quite a collection. Playmobil is a wonderful toy in that there is a wide variety of sets available and the toys are very well-made: they are very difficult to break and only deliberate effort will actually crack that tough plastic. However, because they are composed of many pieces, and often very small pieces, the toys do tend to break apart into their component parts. We have learned that when the toys begin to fall apart, the children quickly lose interest in them. Several months ago we bought the Playmobil zoo set. The children loved with it and played with nothing else for several days. But their play soon caused the pieces of the set to become scattered. Through the ensuing weeks, the set fell into a greater state of disrepair. The fences ended up in one bin of toys and the animals in another. The roof fell off the entrance to the zoo and the souvenir stands disappeared. Eventually the children abandoned it altogether.

And so this morning my wife and I gathered together all of the scattered pieces of Playmobil in order to reconstruct the sets. We built castles and tree houses, holiday homes and Viking hideouts. We built the zoo back to its former glory. The animals are now back in their cages and a roof once again adorns the entrance way. Civil War soldiers (armed with muskets) are touring the zoo alongside Vikings (and their swords) and pirates (with their cutlasses). Little stuffed animals and tiny balloons are, once again, for sale at the souvenir stands. And lo and behold, the children are now enthusiastically playing with their toys. Unless I miss my guess, I’m thinking they will be playing with it for the rest of the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if Playmobil keeps them occupied all day tomorrow as well.

It’s not that they ever really grew tired of their Playmobil, or that they stopped liking it. It’s just that, as it fell into pieces, they didn’t care to expend the effort in gathering the pieces together and repairing it themselves (or asking mom and dad to repair it for them). They probably did not even stop to think about the fact that they were using it less and less. And then one day they stopped using it altogether.

Said otherwise, they were happy playing with the toy as long as it was easy. But when it required just a little bit of time and effort to maintain their play, they gave up.

As I thought about this, while assembling yet another building, I reached two conclusions. First, I am heading out this afternoon to buy some glue. We’ll make sure that these toys have less opportunity to become scattered around the house. Second, the children are not a whole lot different than me. I realized that my pursuit of God has often resembled the children’s pursuit of play. As long as things are fun in my spiritual walk, I enjoy it. But when this pursuit begins to resemble work, I can start to drift away and to find other things to occupy my mind. I love being a believer and learning about God as long as it seems like fun. But when it requires concentrated effort, I am prone to give up and to find other things to do, all the while wishing that someone would come along and make it fun for me again. I guess, like the children, I still have lots of growing up to do.