Ask Now of the Days That Are Past
The Importance of Understanding Your Family History

by Wesley Strackbein, August 1, 2007

We ask of the generations.
We look to the years of the past.
We stand on our fathers’ shoulders.
We walk down their faithful path.

Tugging at his beard, pondering several millennia past, the grey-headed patriarch picked up his pen. His heart raced as he saw what lay before him. For many years he had been painstakingly working on a sacred volume, a history. Many a scroll were filled with his writings. He had spent more hours than he could count perfecting each parchment. Each line he had meted out with care. And now his labors were coming to an end. The story of his ancestors, his family history, was almost complete.

At centerstage in his narrative was the God of his fathers. In startling fashion, he had been made aware of just how important it was to understand God’s dealings with his ancestors when God Himself met him on Mount Horeb some forty years before. From a burning bush the Lord God called him to lead his family out of the land of Egypt. He was given explicit directions by God on how he was to approach them upon his return from the desert. “Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, the Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, hath sent you: this is my name forever, and this is my memorial unto all generations” (Exodus 3:15). Without an understanding of how God had worked in his family’s history, without a knowledge of the covenant that He had made with his forefathers several centuries prior, such a declaration would have been meaningless.

The weight of this truth pressed deeply upon Moses’ mind as he wrapped up his writings. Soon, he was to go the way of the earth; he had only a month more to live. The generation of Israelites which he now directed was a much younger generation than his own. With the exception of Joshua and Caleb, the closest person to his age in the Israelite camp was a full sixty years younger. It was important that this up-and-coming generation know their family’s past. It was critical that this people about to take the land of Canaan, the land of promise, understand the God of their fathers — the God of the covenant.

So pouring with dedication over the manuscripts which God had commanded him to write (Numbers 33:2, Exodus 17:14), Moses prepared a final series of discourses to deliver to the young families that were about to cross the Jordan. Gathering the children of Israel around him, he began to speak. What he said to them in four short weeks we know today as the book of Deuteronomy.

It was through this book that I journeyed anew on a cold Virginia day in my basement residence several winters ago. A year removed from my native home in Texas, I now made my abode in the coldest corner of a large townhouse. Having just returned from a pleasant visit down south with my family over the Christmas holidays, I determined to revisit the life of another old friend, one who had already become one of my biggest heroes. Wrapping myself in a blanket, I again read the last installment of the Pentateuch. And the message of the aging patriarch — his penetrating words — pierced my heart.

“Remember that thou wast a servant in the land of Egypt, and the Lord brought thee out with a mighty hand” (Deuteronomy 5:15). “Remember what the Lord God did unto Pharoah and Egypt” (Deuteronomy 7:18). “Remember that thou wast a bondman in Egypt: and thou shalt observe and do these statutes” (Deuteronomy 16:12) “Remember thy servants, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob” (Deuteronomy 9:27). “Remember the Lord thy God” (Deuteronomy 8:18).

While I had read Deuteronomy many times before — at one point during my schooling, I was required to type it in its entirety — never before had I apprehended the urgency nor understood the import of Moses’ words. The prevailing theme of his discourses now resounded in my ears: know and understand how God has worked in your family history — don’t forget your past.

Over the next few weeks, I read and reread Deuteronomy. My cold dwelling place became lit with the warm light of serious study. As I observed the stress that Moses placed to his family that they understand God’s covenant dealings with their fathers, I began to wonder how God had interacted with my forbears. As I discovered that in Moses’ final addresses he simply recalled to mind episodes from the wilderness journey and sought to teach lessons from them, I began to wonder what I could learn from my family’s past. And as I was struck by the fact that Moses left his family a detailed history of their existence complete with genealogies dating back to times’ dawn, I purposed to research and write a history of my family to leave to my offspring.

That was two years ago. Since that time I have moved from the confines of my Virginia apartment back to my home in Texas and have devoted a serious amount of my time to researching my family history. I have dug in courthouses for land deeds, scanned the internet for war documents, and visited various gravesites.

The most rewarding aspect of my work has been the time I have spent with my Grandpa, my father’s dad. We have spent dozens of hours together over the last year discussing our family’s past. His detailed knowledge of the lives of our ancestors and his no-nonsense approach to their failures and successes has helped set the tone of my research.

There are three main goals based on principles found in Deuteronomy that I have sought to achieve in this endeavor.

My first priority is to understand how God has made Himself known to my family and to marvel at His plan as it has played out in their history. Moses implored the children of Israel to do just this when he declared:

For ask now of the days that are past, which were before thee, since the day that God created man upon the earth, ask from the one side of heaven to the other, whether there hath been any such thing as great as this, or hath been heard like it? Did ever people hear the voice of God speaking out of the midst of the fire, as thou hast heard and live?”(Deuteronomy 4:32-33)

While God dealt with this generation in a unique way never seen before or again, He has nonetheless made His power known to families of all generations according to His covenant. God works through families. I rejoice when I see the testimony He has established in mine.

My second goal in researching my family history is to evaluate the strengths and weaknesses of those who have gone before me; to abandon the sins of my fathers so that I can walk faithfully in God’s covenant.

Moses had a good deal to say in Deuteronomy about the older generation that left Egypt. Because of their stubborn and rebellious hearts, they were denied entrance into the land of Canaan (Deuteronomy 1:34-35). Moses exhorted the people to “Remember, and forget not, how thou provokest the Lord they God to wrath in the wilderness...” (Deuteronomy 9:7). He made it clear to his audience that they were to follow a different path: they were to learn from their parents’ mistakes.

God’s measuring rod for faithfulness is His covenant. Those who keep it can expect blessings; those who break it, cursings (Deuteronomy 28). I pray that I can avoid the sins of my fathers, and leave a legacy of blessing to the next “thousand generations” (Deuteronomy 7:9).

My final objective in delving into the lives of my ancestors is to pass on a family heritage to my children; to give them a sense of belonging; to make known to them God’s workings in the lives of their fathers so that they can pass on the testimony to their children.

If there was any one thing Moses stressed most during his discourses it was this very point: “Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life: but teach them thy sons, and thy sons’ sons” (Deuteronomy 4:9). Especially remember to teach them the meaning of the covenant (Deuteronomy 4:10-13).

Though not penned by Moses, Psalm 78 captures the goals of my mission well:

I will open my mouth in a parable: I will utter dark sayings of old: which we have heard and known, and our fathers have told us. We will not hide them from their children, shewing to the generation to come the praises of the Lord, and his strength, and the wonderful works that he hath done. For he established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he hath commanded our fathers, that they should make them known to their children: That the generation to come might know them, even the children which should be born; who should arise and declare them to their children: That they might set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments. (Psalm 78:2-7)

Heavy-hearted, the great lawgiver concluded his family history with a few last strokes of his pen. The final words formed a frightening song of judgment against his people. Though he was saddened by the fact that he would never enter the Promised Land, what brought him the greatest sense of grief was an altogether different thought, one he knew was undeniable: that his kindred in a few short generations would forget their history and call upon other gods (Deuteronomy 31:29). His voluminous writings, his labor of love, would all too often be ignored.

After putting his manuscripts in order, he placed them in the possession of the Levites for safekeeping. The ark of the covenant was to house these scrolls that would later be known as the five books of the law (Deuteronomy 31:25-26).

Then he gathered the congregation before him to give one last address. Calling heaven and earth to witness, Moses spoke in the ears of his flesh and blood the words of the song that would spell their offspring’s doom (Deuteronomy 31:28-30). An indictment against forgetfulness, it gave the Israelites no excuse should they cease to remember the God of their fathers (Deuteronomy 31:19). Their only hope was to heed its admonition:

Do ye thus requite God, O foolish people and unwise? Is not he the father that hath bought thee? Hath he not made thee and established thee? Remember the days of old, consider the years of many generations: ask thy father, and he will shew thee; thy elders, and they will tell thee. (Deuteronomy 32:6-7)

It was these words from Moses’ song that kindled in my heart the desire to know my family history as I sat in my cold basement dwelling two years ago. Deuteronomy 32:7 is the model verse of my research; it’s what ultimately led me to return to the home of my roots.

Certainly not every man is obligated to make such a drastic move. But it is the responsibility of every man, as Moses made plain in Deuteronomy, to know and understand how God has worked in history, particularly in the life of his own family, and to impart to his progeny that heritage.

We must remember. Ask now of the days that are past. The God of our fathers, the God of the covenant, will not suffer to be forgotten.

This memorial was dedicated as part of a special ceremony on the original Strackbein homestead.

After this article was written, Wesley staged an inspirational event with far-reaching Gospel and multi-generational impact on Strackbein descendants from across the nation. He contacted numerous and diverse extended family members — many he had never met or even known were alive — and invited them to an anniversary memorial-laying ceremony at the site were his first nineteenth century American ancestor lived and built the foundation for hundreds who would follow. Traveling from a collective many thousands of miles, Strackbein descendants gathered at the sacred spot and learned the story of their family patriarch and of the providence of God in his life and that of his children — and they heard the beautiful Gospel message of hope. It was a testimony of honor, not merely to this one family, but to an entire community who observed one man live out the Fifth Commandment.