When Grown Men Still Obey Their Father
How Faithful Sons Earned God's Favor by Obeying Their Father Long After His Death
Many people today assume that honoring one’s father is primarily a matter of childhood. Obedience, they think, belongs to little boys, not grown men. Once a man reaches adulthood, earns his own living, marries, and establishes his own household, he is expected to make his own decisions and follow his own path. Yet one of the most remarkable stories in Scripture teaches exactly the opposite. The Rechabites were not children obeying a parent because they feared punishment. They were grown men, living generations after their forefather’s death, who deliberately chose to preserve and honor a godly inheritance. Their obedience was impressive precisely because it was voluntary, mature, and costly.
Imagine a father gathering his children around him and saying:
“Never drink wine.”
“Never build a house.”
“Never plant a vineyard.”
“Never settle down.”
“Live in tents for the rest of your lives.”
Most modern people would assume such instructions would die with the man who gave them. Perhaps his children would obey. Maybe even his grandchildren. But by the third or fourth generation, the family would almost certainly move on. New times would bring new ideas. Sons would decide they knew better than their fathers. Grandchildren would laugh at the old-fashioned rules and embrace the comforts and opportunities available to them.
That is exactly what makes the story of the Rechabites so astonishing.
Their ancestor Jonadab gave his descendants a set of instructions that seemed strange even in his own day. He commanded them never to drink wine. Never to build permanent homes. Never to plant vineyards. Never to become settled landowners. Instead, they were to remain a simple, nomadic people, living in tents and preserving a distinct way of life.
Then something remarkable happened.
They obeyed.
Not just for a year, or for a decade, or even for a generation.
They obeyed for centuries.
By the time we meet them in Jeremiah 35, approximately 250 years had passed since Jonadab first gave those instructions. Kings had risen and fallen. Wars had been fought. Political alliances had changed. Entire generations had come and gone. Yet the descendants of Jonadab were still living according to the commands of a father long dead.
Their story unfolds during one of the darkest periods in Judah’s history. The nation was drifting toward disaster. Idolatry was widespread. The people repeatedly ignored God’s warnings through the prophets. Judgment was approaching in the form of the Babylonian invasion, but few were listening.
In the midst of that spiritual chaos, God told Jeremiah to perform a strange experiment.
The prophet was instructed to bring the Rechabites into the Temple and offer them wine.
Imagine the scene. The men of the clan enter one of the chambers of the Temple. Before them sit bowls filled with wine. The invitation comes from Jeremiah himself, a prophet of God. If there were ever a situation in which they might feel justified in making an exception, this was it. The request was not coming from a drunkard, a pagan, or a rebel. It was coming from God’s prophet in God’s house.
Yet the Rechabites refused.
Their answer was immediate and unwavering:
“We will drink no wine: for Jonadab the son of Rechab our father commanded us, saying, Ye shall drink no wine, neither ye, nor your sons for ever.”
Then they explained that they had continued obeying every command he had given. They had not built houses. They had not planted vineyards. They had not abandoned the way of life he established for them.
Think about the significance of that moment. These were not children obeying a parent because they feared punishment. Jonadab had been dead for a long time. These were grown men voluntarily obeying the instructions of their father, because they honored and respected him.
Modern culture often portrays maturity as liberation from parental influence. The ideal adult is expected to “find his own path,” reject old traditions, and reinvent himself according to his own desires. Scripture presents a strikingly different picture. Here were men whose identity was strengthened, not weakened, by honoring the wisdom handed down from their forefathers.
What happened next is the most powerful part of the story.
God publicly praised them.
The Lord contrasted the obedience of the Rechabites with the disobedience of Judah. God had repeatedly sent prophets to His own people. He had warned them. Corrected them. Called them to repentance. Yet they refused to listen.
Meanwhile, the Rechabites had faithfully obeyed the command of a human father.
The contrast was devastating.
If these men could honor the word of Jonadab for centuries, why could Israel not honor the word of God?
Then came an extraordinary promise:
“Because ye have obeyed the commandment of Jonadab your father, and kept all his precepts, and done according unto all that he hath commanded you: Therefore thus saith the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel; Jonadab the son of Rechab shall not want a man to stand before me for ever.”
God didn’t promise them riches, political power, or military victory. Instead, He promised them something far greater: a perpetual place before Him.
Their reward was not primarily material. It was relational. God saw their faithfulness. God honored their obedience. God publicly commended their loyalty to their father’s instruction.
God did not merely accept their obedience of the father. He praised it. He held it up as an example before an entire nation. At a time when Judah was ignoring the commands of the living God, the Rechabites were faithfully honoring the command of a father who had died centuries earlier. Their obedience became a sermon. Their family became a rebuke.
This does not mean every family tradition is wise. Jonadab’s commands were not universal laws for all mankind. Scripture does not require every Christian to live in tents or abstain from wine. The point is not the specific content of the commands. The point is the faithfulness of the sons.
Jonadab gave his descendants a way of life designed to protect them from the corrupting influences around them. If they avoided building houses and planting vineyards, they would have to avoid living in highly populated areas. Generation after generation, they embraced that inheritance instead of abandoning it. They recognized that not every old path is a bad path and that not every tradition deserves to be discarded.
In many Christian families, fathers pass down far more valuable things than instructions about housing or agriculture. They pass down faith. They pass down habits of prayer. They pass down integrity, discipline, hard work, chastity, generosity, and reverence for God. Tragically, some sons treat these gifts as burdens rather than treasures. They spend years trying to escape the very inheritance that was meant to protect them.
The Rechabites chose a different path.
They received their father’s wisdom with gratitude. They guarded it. They preserved it. They lived it.
And God blessed them for it.
Their story stands as a challenge to every generation. Are we eager to cast off the good things our fathers taught us simply because they seem old-fashioned? Have we confused independence with wisdom? Do we assume that maturity requires rejecting the inheritance we received?
The Rechabites remind us that true maturity is not found in rebellion. It is found in discerning what is good and faithfully preserving it. They understood that honoring a godly father is not a burden but a blessing.
More than two centuries after Jonadab’s death, his descendants were still living by his words. Most people today cannot remember the names of their great-grandparents. The Rechabites remembered the commands of a forefather who had been dead for generations.
No wonder God pointed to them as an example.
In an age obsessed with novelty, they chose faithfulness. In a culture drifting toward compromise, they chose conviction. In a nation characterized by disobedience, they chose obedience.
And because they honored their father, God honored them.


Ir's hard for me to unfollow my fathers side's beachy LI, NY way of life and decide to start a new life in Russia, far away from his family's island way of life. My mom's side is Russian, & the only thing we have in common is religion. None of them live here--they're like globetrotters & probably see themselves as White Russians. All I know is my family, the beach, guitars, music, our tiny little Orthodox parish, & my municipal laboring job. We're working class civil servants, my father told me. He played the guitar & was a beach bum cop, & I'm a musician, beach bum, & gov't laborer. My son is the fourth generation from NYC, all of us after my wonderful grandfather going to the ssme schools. We LOVE Farmingdale, Long Island! I don't know what to do!!! What a dilemma!!!
The importance of the father (l’importance du père), the importance of the pair (l’importance du paire), in French, these two expressions pronounced orally are similar. https://substack.com/profile/205971469-josick-croyal/note/c-273072721?r=3emolp