Arrows, Part Two: Children And Purpose

“Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!” – Psalm 127:4-5

How are children like arrows? An arrow is pulled back, but then moves swiftly: you get a small window of time, and then it’s gone (“the days are long, but the years are short,” as they say). But during that time, when the arrow is pulled back, it is aimed. A warrior has an intention when he picks up an arrow: we steward our children through purpose. 

What is your vision for your kids? What are you aiming for? I’ve been surprised by how hard it is to articulate an answer to that question. So often, the forest gets lost for the trees: any sense of purpose one carries into parenting degenerates into an endless succession of chores and tasks, and it becomes hard to see the big picture. It becomes easier to function on auto-pilot, going from stage to stage doing what it seems like everyone else is doing, from buying the most popular baby equipment to registering early for the hottest summer camps. From what I can tell, people here aim to produce well-behaved, socially-aware children who also never stray below an A, play several instruments and sports, and get into an elite college. And preferably move back and have grandchildren nearby.

Not that any of those things are necessarily bad, but they have nothing to do with this verse. Arrows are not made for comfort, or to look good; they are not accessories, but weapons. They are made to be launched, to be let go of, to be released into a place its launcher will never go themselves. They are meant for mission. When Jim Elliot was explaining to his parents why he would leave a promising career in the United States to serve as a missionary in South America, he said: “What is a quiver full of but arrows? And what are arrows for but to shoot? So, with the strong arms of prayer, draw the bowstring back and let the arrows fly—all of them, straight at the Enemy’s hosts.”

I’m not saying mission has to be literal missions, but would I be okay with that? Am I only praying for my children to get a good education, spouse and career, or am I praying that they would follow and love God with all their hearts, that they would be powerful and effective in God’s kingdom? This is a hard one for me. I like to think one can “have it all” in this regard: the child who is sold out for Jesus and also gets into Harvard. But that is dangerous, because those things don’t always go together. Jesus didn’t say, “seek a few things and you can have it all”; he said, “seek first the kingdom of God.” And what we seek for our children will be implicitly obvious to them. What is your vision for your kids?

The Parable Of The Dishonest Manager

“The master commended the dishonest manager for his shrewdness. For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings.” – Luke 16:8-9

“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” – Jim Elliot, October 28, 1949 journal entry

This parable, found only in Luke, can be confusing. In it, Jesus tells the story of a manager who, on finding out he is being fired for wasting his master’s money, rewrites the contracts of his master’s debtors to decrease their debts so they might help him after he’s unemployed. The master then, surprisingly, commends him for this. Of note, “unrighteous wealth” refers to worldly wealth—earthly wealth that is part of this unrighteous world—not wealth gained through unrighteous means. Some have speculated that the manager reduced the debts by cutting out his own commission or interest, which would explain why his manager praised him. 

Regardless of how dishonest or not the manager was, the main point of the parable is the same: we “sons of light” need to be at least as shrewd about how the kingdom of God works as the “sons of this world” are about how the earthly world works. The word for “shrewd” here, Greek phronimos, is only ever used this once in the Bible, and is translated in some versions “wise.” Jesus commends not potentially dishonest means, but the kind of shrewd wisdom behind it. And being wise means understanding that, like the manager about to lose his job, worldly opportunity and wealth is fleeting. Most of us who are relatively young don’t think on this, but it is a sure thing: Jesus says “when it fails,” not if. The most intelligent plan we can make is to use our earthly money to buy what will last eternally. 

How do we do this? Jesus goes on to explain that we earn “true riches” in eternity by proving ourselves faithful with worldly wealth (Luke 16:11). If fund managers are not using money the way their clients want, or are taking more for themselves than was agreed upon, they’re not being faithful with the money given them—one could even say they’re stealing, and the same is true for us. We manage, but do not own, all we have in this world. In our meritocratic culture, this can be difficult to work into our hearts, but it is no less true. What matters is being faithful to the intent of our master in stewarding what we have. One day we too may hear, “turn in the account of your management” (Luke 16:2).

But this parable has something more specific to say about how to invest in what lasts. It comes right after the parable of the prodigal son, and if you layer them together, a similar parabolic narrative emerges. Both the younger son and the manager squander money; the same Greek word diaskorpizo is used. But both learn that money is not as important as relationship, whether between father and son, or between friends. Michael Wilcock puts the point of the parable in Luke 16 this way: “Although these things—your property, ability, and time—belong to this life only, Jesus says, what will happen to you then, when you pass into the afterlife, will depend on what you were doing with them here and now. Make sure that the use of your money brings you into a fellowship of friends which will survive beyond death.”

Thinking on this, I keep recalling the last scene in Monsters, Inc., the way Sully’s entire face lights up as he opens the door to another dimension of reality, not because of any object or reward, but because he sees his friend. Which friends will welcome me home in eternity? In the end, none of the material things around me will last: but the souls around me will. This parable is a good reminder that it is always worthwhile to invest in building eternal relational capital, to deepen and widen that fellowship of friends which will survive beyond death.