Experience is overrated. We often learn its lessons too late. Though once it has aged it can pack a punch. My father, about the time I entered into junior high school, impressed upon me the lesson experience taught him too late, but in time for me. As was his wont, he playfully prefaced his counsel with pomposity.
“Son,” he said, “I am about to present to you what I call ‘Patriarchal Principle Number One.”
“OK,” I replied with a smile. “What is Patriarchal Principle Number One?”
“You don’t have to live in a garbage can to know it stinks.”
While I still fear its import didn’t warrant a number one ranking among all possible patriarchal principles, it was most assuredly wisdom. It pushes back against the common “wisdom” that says, “I’ll try anything once.” Really? Anything? One thing I’ll never try is moving into a garbage can. I know of a guy that did so, but he never seemed happy about it. Come to think of it, he was always a grouch. It stinks in there.
God has designed His world so that we can benefit from the experience of others. We are given warnings from those in authority over us. When we can trust them, rather than insisting only our own experience can teach us, we can avoid a whole world of hurt.
There is no authority over us with deeper knowledge, who is more trustworthy than God Himself. The trouble is that we don’t trust Him. Like our first parents we tend to think God’s law, His instruction on how to live life, is a test for us. He wants our loyalty. He’s done so much for us, and so He asks us to set aside sundry pleasures to demonstrate our gratitude.
Were God to do such, we’d have no room to complain. But that is not the nature of His law. His law is not a burden but a gift. Obedience is not a sacrifice but an invitation to joy. He knows. He always knows. Every sin, no matter how small, at its root says to the loving God either, “You are stingy” or “You are wrong” before it says, “You don’t get to decide.” And then, every time, every single time, despite a lifetime of experience of the very same thing, we stub our toe. We burn our hand on the stove. We stick our fork in the socket.
The experience I need to learn from, more than any other, is not the destruction that flows from my sins, but the grace that flows from His blood. The joy of His forgiveness, the removal of the stone of guilt from my back, the welcoming arms of my heavenly Father, these are ever present realities that I too often lose sight of. Yet they are the very font of my own well-being.
God is good, gracious and kind to all His own. He pours out blessing on us unendingly. Alleluia.