The Heavy Word: Honor

Read

Exodus 20:12 “Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord your God is giving you.”

Think

We use the word “honor” sparingly in everyday life. We might hear it at a military funeral, a courtroom oath, or in a formal speech. But for most of us, it is not a word we use often. It sounds old-fashioned. Out of place in a world that values humor over reverence, sarcasm over seriousness. But in Scripture, “honor” is not just ceremonial language. It is foundational. And it carries far more weight than most of us realize.

In Hebrew, the word used in the fifth commandment is kabed. It means to give weight to something. To treat it as heavy, significant, important. It is the same root used to describe the glory of God. That is how serious this word is. To honor someone is to recognize their God-given significance, not because of what they do for you, but because of who they are in his design.

That is what makes this commandment about parents so radical. God is not just calling us to respect our parents when they impress us, or agree with us, or parent us well. He is calling us to assign them weight. To acknowledge their role. To treat them with a dignity that reflects their place in the story of our lives.

This doesn’t mean ignoring reality. Honor is not pretending. It is perspective. It looks honestly at a parent’s flaws, but chooses not to define them by those flaws alone. It sees past the imperfection and says, “Your role still matters. Your place in my life has weight.”

But that is not the way our culture talks about parents. Watch almost any sitcom, and parents are portrayed as clueless, annoying, or out of touch. Jokes about moms and dads are common. Entire genres of comedy are built on the assumption that parents are either punchlines or punching bags. Honor is almost never part of the equation.

We laugh at dysfunction. We replay grievances. We retell stories that make us look mature and our parents look ridiculous. And over time, that posture becomes normal. Even justified. But when we treat our parents lightly, we disobey a God who takes them seriously.

That does not mean every parent deserves full access to your life. There are seasons where healthy boundaries are needed. Some parents abused their position and caused real harm. In those cases, honor may look more like forgiveness and respectful distance than shared meals and phone calls. But even then, the heart posture matters. You are not responsible for your parents’ actions. But you are responsible for how you respond to them.

You cannot control the weight they carried in your past. But you can choose how much weight you give them in your heart today.

For children, honor starts with obedience. For teenagers, it shows up in tone, attitude, and humility. For adults, honor looks like appreciation, inclusion, advocacy, and care. The expression may change over time, but the command remains.

You could think of it like a family gym. The home is where we first learn to carry relational weight. It is where we build muscle for forgiveness, patience, kindness, and humility. Some of us had parents who trained us well. Others were handed weights with no instruction. Either way, the gym mattered. It shaped who we became.

To honor your parents is to look at that space honestly, and to respond with maturity, not mockery.

This kind of honor is not weak. It is deeply spiritual. Because it echoes how God treats us. He gives weight to people we would overlook. He calls us valuable when we are still messy. He remembers our name when others forget our story. He gives honor not based on performance, but based on his design. We are invited to do the same.

But this is not just about family relationships. The practice of honor in the home shapes our ability to honor God. If we do not learn to assign value to people, we will struggle to assign value to the One who made them. If we dismiss the voices that raised us, we are more likely to dismiss the voice that redeems us.

There is a connection between how we treat our parents and how we treat our Father in heaven. One is a reflection of the other. That is why the fifth commandment matters so much. It is not just about behavior. It is about the posture of your heart.

Do you treat people as heavy or light? Do you pause to show appreciation? Do you give weight to the roles others have played in your story?

This kind of honor will always cost something. It costs pride. It costs comfort. It costs your version of the narrative. But it also brings healing. It allows God to work in places we’ve closed off. It opens doors for reconciliation. It helps us grow into people who give grace instead of holding grudges. Honor is not soft. It is sacred. And it starts right where you are.

Apply

Take a few minutes today and write down one or two ways your parents—or someone who filled that role—shaped you for good. Even if the list is short, let your heart lean into gratitude. If you’re able, thank them with a call or message. Choose to give weight to their place in your story, even if your relationship isn’t perfect.

Pray

God, thank you for placing me in a family. Whether my parents were faithful or flawed, I trust that you were at work. Teach me to honor well—to give weight where you say it belongs. Help me live with humility and maturity. Let the way I speak and act reflect a heart that values people, starting with those who shaped me first. In Jesus’ name. Amen.