I want to dream big for a moment, because I think that’s what it will take to leave a legacy that will last a thousand generations.
In this post it’s the number in that verse that concerns us.
Take a look at it written a different way:
Not a thousand years (the track my mind keeps wanting to turn down,) but a thousand generations. That’s a very long time. So long, in fact, that it dwarfs the distance from the cross. Generations are measured at anywhere from 20 to 30 years. If we take the shorter, 20 years, and we’re 2000 years from Christ and another 1400+ back to the giving of that promise to Moses, then we are a little past generation 170.
But is this a literal one thousand generations of direct descent?
I usually hope for a literal interpretation of scripture when there’s poetry at stake. Things like mountains singing and trees clapping their hands give me a shiver of anticipation. And if the stones start to cry out…I’m all in. I’d like to see God breathe life into the inanimate. While the natural world is beautiful and elaborate beyond word or art, it’s fun to imagine the glories that might be possible in a world restored. Images of singing mountains and crying rocks speak the wonder of God to our spirit.
Of course, these scriptures could be figurative only. And so too our one thousand generations. While the Hebrew verse probably means just a very long time or, more accurately, a whole lot of people, neither of those express the magnitude of God’s blessing quite as well as the poetry of “one thousand generations.”
One thousand generations is a picture of boundless mercy—the love of Christ stretching through our life into the indefinite.
Or could it be both poetic and literal? Is it possible that a thousand generations could be blessed through us?
The Bible pictures our lives as branches grafted into a living vine. We bear fruit when the life of the vine flows through us to others in acts of love. But vines are often tangled, making it hard to see the whole picture. The multiple branchings are more obvious if you think of a tree. New limbs divide off of and run concurrently with main branches. The thousand generations might do the same thing. Think of the number of lives God has blessed through a Jonathan Edwards or a Billy Graham.
Most of us are not likely to reach a thousand outright. Still, we might reach it in a different way. Andy Andrews illustrates the phenomenon of unexpected impact in his book The Butterfly Effect: How Your Life Matters. His inspiring video explains the premise much better than I can, but here’s my illustration:
Say the Compassion child you sponsor, has a mother, father, and maybe a grandparent at home. That’s three generations. If you help change a child’s life such that it affects his children and grandchildren, that’s five (not to mention the countless opportunities for blessing that each of them might have in their lifetime.) And if you support more than one child, it could really add up.
It’s likely that reaching any one person sends off side shoots you will never know about in this life. Good News Clubs affect curious older siblings that don’t attend. Prison or street ministries change families you never meet. Medical missions leave a graft behind in a foreign land. There are lots of places where blessings multiply over time.
But we need to dream big and take action. God has a legacy he wants to leave the generations. He wants to funnel our love and obedience into the lives of others until the blessing overwhelms them and they, in turn, bless a thousand others.
Do you believe God could use you to bless a thousand generations?