When the Nest May Never Be Empty
It was the wrong day to go to Target. The aisles were packed with students on the precipice of launching off to college, and parents shopping for bedspreads and mini-fridges soon to fill dorm rooms. The parents I maneuvered around had almost accomplished their mission, and independent adulthood was in sight.
Weaving around them, I looked down at my three-year-old, and tried to swallow the ever-growing lump in my throat. A premature birth, significant brain bleed, and host of medical and cognitive needs will cause our parenting path to look different than what is often expected. There will likely be no dorm room shopping, and no empty nest. In that moment, long-term worries flooded my head and my heart. As did accusations about my ability to measure up as a mother.
What is the goal of parenting? A common moniker told both inside and outside of the church is to ultimately work ourselves out of a job. Our mission is to create independent, self-sufficient adults who fly the coop and become contributing members of society. Begin with the end in mind, we tell parents. And that end is often described as an empty nest.
“Begin with the end in mind, we tell parents.
And that end is often described as an empty nest.”
What is the Bible’s goal for parenting? True independence? Or is that mantra more American than biblical?
Webster’s Dictionary defines independence as freedom from outside control or support. We celebrate the notion each Fourth of July with fireworks and barbeques. With enough hard work, grit, and perseverance we can be anything we want to be.The American Dream is available to all for the taking. The sky is the limit.
The view of “independence as ultimate” offers us the ability to believe that dreams are attainable with fidelity to checklists. There is a projected output for what you put in, a formula that offers comfort and security to those willing to roll up their sleeves and pull up their bootstraps. It gives the illusion that we are in control. That minefields can be avoided, and catastrophes quelled. Good things, after all, come to those who hustle.
Don’t get me wrong, I am glad that the founding fathers of America wrote a lengthy break-up letter to our friends across the pond—and then followed through with action. My concern is that America is often known for her belief in rugged individualism, and that American Christianity has too often been guilty of cross-pollinating with that individualism in unhelpful ways. My concern is that our faith is built on the exact opposite of “freedom from outside control or support.” My concern is that our self-sufficient approach to life would seem quite foreign to the Bible’s original authors.
From Genesis to Revelation, God’s constant refrain is, “I will be your God, and you will be my people.” A people meant to function not just in relationship and dependence on him, but also with each other. Their identity as both Old and New Testament peoples of God involved collective interdependence.
Before sin even entered the world, God says that something is not good. Adam lived and walked with God in the Garden. He knew a level of intimacy with his creator that none of us will experience until Jesus returns. Yet, God says it was not good for him to be alone.
Adam and Eve’s rebellion in Eden lead to a whole host of consequences. No longer do we live in perfect relationship with God, with each other, or with his world. The rest of the Bible tells the story of God not just rescuing his people from sin but rescuing his people for restored relationship. He dwells with his people in a tabernacle, through a cloud by day and pillar of fire by night. He later dwells in a temple, but in order to do so sin must be properly dealt with. Sacrifices are made to atone for what causes this division, but no amount of animal blood can repair what was broken in Eden. Instead, God himself tabernacles in a new way as Immanuel—God with us. The end goal isn’t just forgiveness of sin but communion with God.
“The end goal isn’t just forgiveness of sin but communion with God. ”
Believers look forward to the day when there is no more sin, suffering, pain, or death, as Christ returns. But what we are ultimately looking forward to is God himself, the source from which all these good things flow. “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God (Rev. 21:3).
In John 15, Jesus say, “I am the vine and you are the branches, apart from me you can do nothing.” Understanding our union with Christ changes our eschatology, it changes our soteriology, and it changes our ecclesiology because we are not just joined to Christ—we are joined to each other. In John 17 Jesus prays for us, that his church would be one just as he and the Father are one. We are parts of his very body (1 Cor. 12), stones being fitted together as the dwelling place for God (Eph. 2:19–22).
The Apostle Paul often wrote about freedom in Christ. Yet when he does, his language is much different than our American notion of independence.
For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word. You shall love your neighbor as yourself. (Gal. 5:13–14)
When independence is the end goal for following Jesus, or for parenting, our faith is, unrecognizable from what God himself describes. We no longer love God or view him as the sovereign King in charge of our lives. We no longer love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Instead, we exclude an entire group of valuable image bearers from our conversations.
For my son Zeke, independence, at least in the way parents typically talk about, it isn’t the goal. Interdependence is the goal, because our family needs Zeke, and Zeke needs our family. He has important contributions to make, even if they look different than his same-age peers. He has important contributions to make, even if he never launches on his own.
Since that fateful fall trip to Target, I have come to realize that independence isn’t the ultimate goal that I have for any of my children. My desire for them is something far more communal. A place where they recognize their own weaknesses, acknowledge their inability to live this life on their own, and understand their deep and profound need for Jesus. A place where they know their deep and profound need for community, and where they recognize that this is true for all of us. A place where they can look for ways assist and contribute to the common good and collective flourishing of their fellow man.
Begin with the end in mind. And this type of interdependence is that end.
Emily Pilkington lives in Indianapolis with her husband Jeremy and four children Gideon, Eva, Zeke, and Grady. She is a part-time student at Covenant Theological Seminary in St. Louis and serves as the Elementary Children’s Ministry Coordinator at Redeemer Presbyterian Church. You can find more of her writing at emilypilkington.com.