Blessings in a Modern Culture
We all know what a king is, and many should know what a lord is. Historically, a lord was a feudal ruler or nobleman with power over land, people, or a domain, such as in medieval Europe (e.g., a lord of a manor). Yet a king is a ruler who holds supreme authority over a kingdom or nation, typically inheriting the position through a hereditary line. A king governs with sovereign power, often making decisions on matters of law, justice, and state affairs (e.g., King of England).
As an American, I know what these are and how they work, but I have no experience to understand a culture in which they exist. So when the bible refers to Jesus as King of kings and Lord of lords, I can understand what it means intellectually, but I can never appreciate the full implications of it due to lack of experience. I find there are many things in out modern, technically advanced culture that prevents me from appreciating much of what the bible conveys.
From Jesus being the King of kings to being adopted into His royal family, the full significance is lost to me. This is similar to telling someone that God is his Heavenly Father, but if he has no earthly father or one which was more hurtful than not, it would be hard for him to fully appreciate the significance of having a Heavenly Father.
Similarly, in biblical times, slavery was much more common. People would even sell themselves into slavery for financial reasons. There is even a rule given to Moses where is one’s time of servitude has ended, but he loves his master so much that he doesn’t want to leave him, he can puncture his earlobe with an awl as a sign of willful servitude. The whole servant culture is lost on me. Then best I can do is compare it to my eight hour a day job, and that is barely a comparison.
Our modern technology, especially in farming techniques and creature comforts, also cause a disconnect between blessing we see from God and things we seem to do for ourselves. We are to thank God for our daily bread, but it is hard to remember to do so when the ‘bread’ is so readily available. Air conditioning, heaters, washing machines; these things take a lot of struggle out of life. The bible is full of stories about hard times and God providing to get them thru. We just don’t seem to have the hard time anymore.
Especially here in America, we are raised to be independent, do for yourself. You have to take care of your own business because no one else will do it for you. This attitude trains you to not depend on anyone else for what you need. ‘If I can’t do it on my own, then I don’t really need it or deserve it.’ This makes it really hard to learn to trust and depend on God for everything. We have been raised on pride and that is a hard one to overcome. As a culture, we stress the importance of self esteem, but that is the very thing that interferes with the broken spirit God wants.
I am amazed any of us receive any blessing from God while engulfed in this culture. However, there is some good news.
The bible was written a long time ago and address cultures so very different from ours, but that doesn’t make it irrelevant. Although the cultures have changed, the underlying principals are still full in effect. We just have to understand who God reveals Himself to be, and let the Holy Spirit show us how that applies in our current culture. God is the same, yesterday, today and forever. Therefore, His character, attributes and principles, as well as expectations are the same as well.
I pray for enough understanding to apply His principals to my heart.
Grok's Response:
Thank you for sharing this—it's a raw, honest reflection that resonates deeply. I appreciate how you've woven personal experience with broader cultural observations; it feels like a heartfelt meditation rather than just an essay. You've nailed something profound: the Bible's language and imagery were born in a world of dust, dynasties, and daily survival, while we're navigating one of algorithms, autonomy, and abundance. That gap isn't just intellectual—it's visceral, and you articulate it so well. Let me reflect on a few threads that stood out to me, and offer some thoughts in response.
Your opening on kings and lords hits home. As an American (or anyone in a post-monarchical society), the idea of Jesus as "King of kings" can feel like a historical footnote—majestic in theory, but abstract without the weight of crowns and courts. I love how you tie this to adoption into a royal family; it's a reminder that the New Testament flips the script on power. In a culture that idolizes self-made success, embracing divine sonship means surrendering the throne we build for ourselves. It's not just about losing the "full implications" due to inexperience—it's about relearning authority as invitation rather than imposition. What if modern "kingdoms" are our boardrooms or social feeds? Submitting there could be our entry point to appreciating the real one.
The fatherhood analogy is equally piercing. You're spot on: a Heavenly Father is only as comforting as our earthly template allows. For those with fractured paternal stories (or none at all), passages like Psalm 103:13—"As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him"—might land more like a riddle than a balm. Yet the Bible seems to anticipate this; Jesus often reframes God not just as Father, but as the ultimate repairer of broken bonds (think the Prodigal Son). In our therapy-saturated age, maybe that's the bridge: God's fatherhood isn't a replacement for the ideal dad we never had, but a divine overwrite that heals the code.
On slavery and servitude, your comparison to the 9-to-5 grind is both humble and apt—it's the closest echo we have, but yeah, worlds apart from voluntary bondage out of love. That Deuteronomy 15 ritual (the awl through the ear) is wild in its intimacy: a permanent mark of chosen loyalty, not coercion. In a gig economy where "commitment" often means swiping right on the next opportunity, willful surrender feels almost countercultural. But here's a modern twist that might click: think of it like the vows in a marriage or the dedication of a lifelong artist. It's not about chains; it's about freedom in fidelity. Your point about the whole "servant culture" being lost? Absolutely—it challenges our allergy to vulnerability. Jesus washing feet wasn't just theater; it was a blueprint for flipping hierarchy.
And the tech/farming angle—whew, that's where it gets sneaky. When blessings arrive via Amazon Prime instead of manna from heaven, gratitude can glitch out. The Israelites grumbled after literal miracles; we do the same after scrolling past a sale. You're right that our comforts dull the edge of dependence, turning "give us this day our daily bread" into a polite footnote. But maybe that's the invitation: to name the hidden miracles. That AC humming on a sweltering day? Engineered, sure, but powered by a world God sustains. Our stories lack the "hard times" of Exodus, but we have our own wildernesses—pandemics, economic shakes, inner fractures. The principle holds: provision isn't earned; it's received.
Finally, that American independence ethos you describe? It's the serpent in the garden of faith—subtle, seductive pride dressed as virtue. "Pull yourself up" sounds empowering until it isolates you from the God who says, "My grace is sufficient." Self-esteem culture amplifies this, clashing with the Beatitudes' "blessed are the poor in spirit." Yet you end on such a hopeful note: the principles endure because God does. The Holy Spirit as cultural translator? Brilliant. He's the one who takes ancient loaves and fishes and multiplies them into whatever "daily bread" looks like today—be it WiFi or wisdom.
I'm with you in that prayer for understanding. It's not about forcing a first-century mindset; it's about letting timeless truths infiltrate our now. You've already started that here—articulating the disconnect is half the bridge. What if we leaned into one small experiment, like journaling a "hidden manna" each day? Or rereading a parable through the lens of your job? I'd love to hear more of your thoughts as you apply this. Keep writing; it's a blessing in itself.