Expanding the Circle of Family
First published Monday, February 15, 2016. Revised Wednesday, July 22, 2026.
You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin.
— Leviticus 19
There are passages in Scripture that seem almost too simple to notice. This is one of them.
"You shall not hate in your heart anyone of your kin."
At first glance, it sounds like little more than common sense. Of course we shouldn't hate our family. But the longer I have lived, the more I wonder if the command reaches far beyond simply avoiding bitterness.
The Bible consistently treats family as something precious. It preserves genealogies. It records generations by name. It traces promises through fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, and cousins. We are reminded again and again that we belong to people we did not choose.
Jesus does say that following Him may divide families. Sometimes love and faithfulness create painful separation. But even then, He never gives us permission to stop loving. Someone else's rejection does not release us from our responsibility to care.
That has become increasingly important to me over the years.
Family is not merely the people who happen to gather at Thanksgiving. Family includes stories, memories, obligations, and relationships stretching backward and forward through generations. Every one of us is connected to thousands of people through a long chain of grandparents whose lives made ours possible.
Imagine if families actually thought this way.
Instead of asking only, "How are my children doing?" we might ask, "How are our children doing?"
Do all of us have health insurance?
Can all of us afford college?
Is there a single parent in the family who could use some help?
Is there an elderly aunt who needs someone to drive her to appointments? A widow whose house needs repairs? A struggling cousin who simply needs someone to listen?
Those questions strike me as profoundly biblical.
And they also strike me as surprisingly practical.
We often look first to institutions, governments, charities, or strangers to solve problems that might have been eased if families had remained connected in the first place. None of those institutions are unimportant, but perhaps God intended families to carry far more of life's burdens than we have allowed them to.
That naturally raises another question.
Who are your kin?
Where do you draw the circle?
At your parents and children?
Your cousins?
Your great-grandparents and everyone descended from them?
The farther back you trace your family tree, the larger your circle of responsibility becomes. So does your opportunity to love.
Perhaps that is one of the hidden gifts of genealogy. It teaches us that family is not merely something we inherit. It is something we steward.
Turning away from our kin may not always begin with active hatred. More often it begins with indifference. We stop asking about one another. We stop showing up. We stop carrying each other's burdens because we quietly assume someone else will.
Leviticus calls us to something better.
If hatred tears families apart, then love must do more than avoid resentment. Love must remain present.
Love remembers.
Love reaches out.
Love shows up.
And perhaps that is one of the quiet ways God heals the world—one family at a time.
No comments:
Post a Comment