I was recently in downtown Edmonton for Missions Fest, an annual
missions focused conference that draws people from all over the world.
Between sessions, Kathy and I wandered out further into down town through the
pedway system to a restaurant for a bite of supper. We went past streets and
buildings that bore the name of people who were being remembered for one
reason or another. We passed through the Citadel Theatre with its gallery of
portraits of the "who's who of Edmonton culture" and it's walkway with stars
bearing the name of donors. We passed a library named after a lawyer who had
always been a big financial supporter of the library. People will go to great
lengths to be acknowledged and remembered.
In some places graffiti "taggers" had left their mark to show the world
that they had been there. Even the conference center was named by a
corporation who paid an undoubtedly expensive fee for their name to be used.
It is as if we have a built in desire to leave a legacy to show that we
were here.
If life is simply the few short years between when we're born and when
we die, it's no wonder we want to leave a legacy of our passing. Compared to
the mountains, the oceans and the heavens, our eighty or so years are truly
insignificant. There are some trees that are known to be more than 4,000
years old. If we assume a generation to be forty years, that’s a hundred
generations of people who have come and gone and the tree still lives on. How
many people of those hundred generations even have their names remembered?
We want to be remembered. People take great risks so that their names
will be remembered in the record books. They spend millions of dollars to
have their name remembered on a building. They contribute to churches so that
a window or a row of pews will "always" bear their name.
We write journals to share the stories of our lives so that others will
remember the things we've said and done and know of the places we have been.
The number of autobiographies of the famous, the infamous and the unknown
that have been published is staggering.
Don't misunderstand; I'm not against those things. I love to read old
journals and discover the past. My father recently shared with me that he has
begun a journal of his life and all he that recalls. I'm really looking
forward to reading it. I'm sure I'll be grieved by losses he has never spoken
of, I'll laugh at stories he never shared before, I'll be amazed by the
things he has done and seen and I'll probably be shocked in places.
I enjoy reading those sorts of journals and I love to look at old
photos. I wonder about the people in them. I wonder who the people were that
have buildings and streets named after them. As much as I wonder, I know that
the legacy will eventually pass away. Even the best of human legacies is
temporary.
If there is no afterlife and we have such a short period of time in
this world filled with evil and tragedy, we really are in a desolate place.
If as some would suggest, we are in fact the random by product of the
evolution of a chain of beings from a chance meeting of some obscure proteins
that passes into nothingness when life is done, then we live a life without
hope. Even our legacies are truly inconsequential. A hundred years from now,
the buildings will have been torn down, the paint faded, the street renamed
and the journals unread and no one will know of their passing.
There is another perspective, one that I believe is the ultimate truth.
We were created in the image of a loving God, with a purpose in mind and an
eternity to look for. The legacy we leave is in the lives we change for that
eternity. A person with whom we've shared the hope of Jesus is that much
closer to spending eternity with Father. The missions we give to and
ministries we support transform lives forever.
Life on this earth is fleeting.
"All men are like grass, and all their glory is
like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but
the word of the Lord stands forever." 1 Peter 1:24-25a NIV
Life without God is devoid of meaning.
I undertook great projects: I built houses for
myself and planted vineyards. I made gardens and parks and planted all
kinds of fruit trees in them. I made reservoirs to water groves of
flourishing trees. I bought male and female slaves and had other slaves who
were born in my house. I also owned more herds and flocks than anyone in
Jerusalem before me. I amassed silver and gold for myself, and the treasure
of kings and provinces. I acquired men and women singers, and a harem as
well--the delights of the heart of man. I became greater by far than anyone
in Jerusalem before me. In all this my wisdom stayed with me. I denied
myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure. My heart
took delight in all my work, and this was the reward for all my labor. Yet
when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to
achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was
gained under the sun.
