Now we turn to the English colonies. Here we find one of the great tensions that will mark the American story from the beginning. Some colonies were driven by profit, land, and survival. Others were driven by religious freedom, reform, and the hope of building a godly society.

Before Europeans ever called this land “America,” it was already filled with peoples, places, languages, cities, farms, governments, and stories. Any faithful account of American history must begin there.

Proverbs 1:7 says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction.” The world tells us there are many streams, many paths, many truths, and many ways to live. Scripture tells us there is one stream that leads to life. There is one path of wisdom. There is no other stream.

There are certain moments when the past refuses to stay in the past. A mistake becomes more than a memory. It becomes a warning. A failure becomes more than regret. It becomes a teacher. A decision made in fear, pride, unbelief, or apathy can echo long after the moment itself has passed.

This is one of the great burdens of parenting, and even more broadly, of spiritual responsibility. None of us enters the work of discipling the next generation as a finished product. We come with our own failures, our own foolishness, our own inconsistencies, and our own need for grace.

n February 1984, David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross premiered at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago. The play follows four real estate salesmen who are desperate to outperform one another with the leads handed down by office manager John Williamson. The men live under the tyranny of a sales board. First prize is a new Cadillac. Second prize is a set of steak knives. Everyone else is disposable.

Shame drove them further east,
and sorrow followed.

Now the language of the image bearers
is a chorus of Lamentations—

dust on the head,
tears in the night,
bitterness in the mouth,
the soul weighed down within.

While Adam and Eve wore
their God-sewn apparel,
Eden was behind them.

They walked eastward
in covered shame—
clothed by mercy,
but driven from perfection.

As the loving Father of his family,

he saw them

poor and wretched,

weak and wounded,

bruised and broken by the fall.

Fear takes over.

Shame consumes them.

Now their own skin feels like a problem.

Now the garden feels too exposed.

Now the first instinct is not worship,

but hiding.

But in the quiet perfection of Eden,
an adversary slipped into paradise.
While the man stood at a distance,
the serpent drew near
to the innocent woman.