Category: legacy

The Fleeting Nature Of Legacy

Lessons From The Parable Of The Rich Fool

Brent Pollard

The breadth of human recollection is rather fleeting. In merely three generations, the essence of most lives—their trials, victories, and the simple moments of each day—slips quietly into the shadows of forgetfulness. Though history may enshrine its Shakespeares and Einsteins, the greater multitude of us shall fade into obscurity, our tales slipping quietly into the annals of time. This obliteration of individual narrative unfolds through various avenues. As time flows onward, the clarity of memory tends to wane, and the stories of those who came before us, beyond the realm of our grandparents, often fade into a misty obscurity. Families frequently choose to uphold only sure tales, usually centering on those kin who have forged remarkable legacies while permitting others to fade quietly into the obscurity of yesteryear. Those who depart this world without the blessing of children tread a more arduous road to remembrance since their narratives rest solely upon the commitment of distant kin to keep them alive in memory. In this age of mobility, it is all too common for families to drift apart, their bonds fraying and shared memories fading into the ether. The myriad forces at play—natural memory decay, the art of selective storytelling, the absence of children, and the scattering of families—combine harmoniously to guarantee that our recollection barely reaches a century for most of us.

The fleeting essence of human memory imparts a significant lesson regarding the quest for legacy through earthly riches, a truth vividly depicted in the Parable of the Rich Fool (Luke 12:13-21). In this narrative, a man of considerable means is convinced that his vast possessions will safeguard his future and ensure his legacy. Yet, in a twist of fate, death arrives to strip away the significance of his meticulously crafted designs. The inquiry posed by the parable—”Then who will receive what you have laid aside for yourself?”—gains a more profound significance when we reflect upon the fleeting nature of our very names within the tapestry of family remembrance. If destiny determines to erase our lives from memory within a few generations, the quest for wealth, as the means for leaving a legacy, reveals itself as a pursuit devoid of true purpose. Instead, this poignant truth beckons us to reflect upon what genuinely lasts: the far-reaching impacts of our connections, the principles we impart to those around us, and the uplifting transformations we foster within our communities. Though the allure of worldly achievements may offer fleeting solace, the unseen connections we forge—the impact we have on the lives of others, the insights we impart, the affection we extend—hold the promise of resonating far beyond our time on this earth. This viewpoint invites us to redirect our attention from the mere gathering of riches to the nurturing of a more profound spiritual and relational abundance, one that may surpass the limits of recollection, thus fostering a legacy that is both meaningful and lasting.

Rather than entangling us in a web of despair, the certainty of being forgotten liberates us to embrace life with greater authenticity and purpose. When we free ourselves from the weighty expectation of leaving a tangible legacy, we understand a profound reality: our authentic influence is not measured by what we bequeath but rather by how our deeds resonate through the ages, often beyond our sight. The folly of the Rich Fool lay not merely in his accumulation of riches but in his profound misunderstanding of the enduring legacy that binds one generation to another through unseen threads of influence. A gentle word uttered in the present may resonate within a family’s principles for generations; a selfless deed could ignite a legacy of generosity that endures beyond our remembrance; a fleeting insight imparted might influence choices long after its origin fades from memory. This insight reshapes our perspective on the fleeting moments life grants us. Rather than laboring to erect grand monuments in our honor, let us turn our efforts to sowing seeds of virtue that will blossom long after we have departed. We may find solace in the understanding that our impact can persist, even when our names have slipped into the shadows of time. This parable extends beyond its sacred beginnings to impart a wisdom that resonates universally: a profound legacy continues to yield fruit, even when circumstances cut it from its roots.

Considering Our Legacy

Friday’s Column: Brent’s Bent

brent-portrait

Brent Pollard

Have you ever heard of a necropolis? It means a “city of the dead.” We are most likely familiar with the necropolises left by the ancient Egyptians, but they exist among other cultures as well. For example, there is a necropolis near Dargavs, Russia. They say that if you look inside the windows of the “houses” in this city, you can see the inhabitants with their possessions. Unlike Egypt, Russia’s necropolis, which I’ve referenced were for the commoner. There are about 10,000 “residents” of this necropolis. Such monuments to the dead fascinate me. Why do men build such monuments and, indeed, cities for the dead? 

I think the word that most often comes to mind is legacy. People want to leave a legacy, the proof of their existence. Legacy derives from the Latin “legate.” A legate was a post in the Roman army. The Roman Senate tasked a general with a particular task which the soldier faithfully performed. It is not difficult to see how the word evolved likewise to indicate a messenger or diplomat. By the middle ages, a legate became someone executing another’s will. Thus, as we think of our legacy, we are referring to that which outlives us. It is something testifying about our life. It serves to impart a message or gift to the future. 

The Hebrews’ writer says Abel left such a legacy. “By faith Abel offered to God a better sacrifice than Cain, through which he obtained the testimony that he was righteous, God testifying about his gifts, and through faith, though he is dead, he still speaks” (Hebrews 11.4 ). The remarkable thing about Abel’s legacy is that God serves as his Legate. Thus, God provides this testimony about the departed Abel. Hence, one cannot doubt the truthfulness of the testimony. That, friends, is better than any pyramid or endowment. 

Men often praise those unworthy of such following their demise because they held power or prestige. Plus, their efforts to honor the deceased eventually come to naught. Again, I am mindful of Percy Bysshe Shelley’s poem, Ozymandias. A traveler tells of a monument upon which he happened. The monument’s inscription suggests the visitor look upon his works and despair. But there was nothing but a desert waste as far as the traveler could see. Even so, the fictional Ozymandias was so proud. He was confident in his legacy, which decayed with time. 

As we contemplate our legacy, we may think of progeny to carry our DNA into the future. God even says that children are a reward (Psalm 127.3). But we are powerless to change the people our offspring become in adulthood. Yes, we trust Solomon’s proverb about a trained child not departing from the way (Proverbs 22.6). But we know this is not universal. Therefore, future generations may soil one’s genetic legacy by their conduct. This phenomenon was undoubtedly the case with the few righteous kings of Judah, whose sons often did evil in worshipping foreign gods. 

No, the only suitable legacy is one whose Legate is God. Like Abel, we need to ensure that our deeds please Him to Whom we must give account. Our righteousness is like “filthy rags” (Isaiah 64.6 KJV). But when we are faithful, like the man with five talents, we will be welcomed into the joys of our Master (Matthew 25.20-21). It may be that when I “shuffle off this mortal coil,” none but my family and close friends will note my passing. If I have the testimony of God, though, I will have something far greater than any monument people may leave for me. So, strive not for earthly accolades or a fleshly heritage. Instead, work to ensure that God provides your eternal legacy.  

MAKING PLANS FOR OUR OWN FUNERAL

Tuesday’s Column: Dale Mail

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Dale Pollard

Recently I attended the funeral of a loving and godly mother. She was celebrated and greatly mourned over by her family and friends. As the funeral service went on there were memories that were brought up that made the audience laugh and cry, even those that didn’t know her all that well. How we are remembered in life is dictated not by a single day or moment, but how the life was spent overall. This concept should be one that we make a conscious effort to visit often. There’s a great question that every Christian should know the answer to. 

What does it mean to be a person after God’s own heart? 

According to Nathan the prophet, David was “the man”! Today we use that term when we are complementing one who has shown himself to be an overachiever or is excellent in some way. When Nathan said this to David, however, he was speaking on behalf of the king’s King. Nathan was accusing David of a great wickedness. 

That being said, David was remembered at the end of his life as someone who chased the heart of God. The Lord was his passion and his pursuit in life. He wanted to see through the eyes of God, follow in the steps of God, and mold himself into a tool that accomplished a will higher than his own. His life is summed up well in a single verse. 

“For David had done what was right in the eyes of the LORD and had not failed to keep any of the LORD’s commands all the days of his life–except in the case of Uriah the Hittite” ( 1 Kings 15:5). 

This verse does not indicate that David was only guilty of one sin while on this earth. It wasn’t that David stumbled and continued on the path of righteousness, but instead there was a season in his life where he completely abandoned God. He gave up the path of light for one of darkness. After Nathan boldly confronts him, he is reminded of his inward allegiance to his God and he changed his course of direction. David lost his son as a consequence. Another son rebels against him. His kingdom is no longer as peaceful as it once was and at the end of his life he sits on his throne as a weary and restless ruler. Even so, despite the darkness on all sides, he chose to stay in the light. 

In the end he wasn’t remembered as the “adulterous murderer.” He is praised for being Israel’s greatest king because he had a heart that mimicked the king of Kings. Let’s make our plans to be remembered as people who chased after the heart of God. 

A Footprint, A Fingerprint, And An Imprint

Neal Pollard

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” “What will they put on your headstone?” It’s the kind of fundamental questions that accompany us all along the road of life. We want to have significance, to serve purpose, and to matter.  Whether motivated by legacy or something larger than self, the thoughtful periodic evaluate the difference they are making to those whose lives they touch. Of all people, Christians should take that matter seriously.  Consider this.

You Are Leaving A Footprint. Your decisions are observed by friends, family, and even those who only know you incidentally or even not at all. You are a leader.  So many people will eventually wind up somewhere because of what you do with and in your life. Paul could say, “Be imitators of me, just as I also am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In the most dramatic facet of this fact, people will be led toward an eternal destination through your influence. You are leading people toward or away from heaven. It’s in your heart, attitude, words, priorities, conduct, and passions.  To a line of folks longer than you could imagine, you are yelling, “Follow me!” Ask yourself, “Where am I going?”

You Are Leaving A Fingerprint. You are touching people’s lives. Your hands are in a variety of endeavors—your occupational life, your social life, your personal life, and your spiritual life. You are a servant of something and someone. Paul says it’s inevitable (Rom. 6:16). Everyone works at something, even if it’s laziness. It’s a legacy of labor. Where will people remember that your hands were most often seen? Will your chief legacy be whatever your occupation was? Your civic service? Your material accumulation and notoriety? Your pursuit of pleasure? Or will it be your involvement in people’s lives and with people’s souls? Consider this challenge, to “strengthen the hands that are weak and the knees that are feeble” (Heb. 12:12). Your hands will find something to do (cf. Ecc. 9:9). Make it count for God.

You Are Leaving An Imprint. Isn’t it sobering to think that all of us are associated with some quality. When our name is brought up, something—either directly or indirectly—is attached to it. For some, it will be: “grouchy,” “gossipy,” “complaining,” “foul-mouthed,” “critical,” “selfish,” “dishonest,” “arrogant,” “icy,” and the like. Fair or not, such broad labels are typically made interaction by interaction. For others, it will be: “humble,” “sincere,” “encouraging,” “dependable,” “loving,” “joyful,” “godly,” “positive,” etc.  You may feel yourself plain and insignificant, but you will leave an indelible impression on others throughout your life.  Even the one talent man, who tried to bury his talent, had to give an account for it (Matt. 25:14-30).

Leadership, labor, and legacy. These are gifts given by God to us all. What a powerful opportunity, one that lies before us daily! The great news is that if we don’t like the footprints, fingerprints, and imprints we have left and are leaving behind, we can change course. My favorite version of A Christmas Carol (and the best version!) is the one starring George C. Scott. He captures the remarkable transformation of Ebenezer Scrooge, a malevolent miser who becomes a merry mirth-maker. Charles Dickens shows us that anyone is redeemable if they’ll genuinely and fervently change. Of course, the Bible beat him to that message (Rom. 12:2; Acts 3:19; etc.).  Our time here is so short. May we all have the wisdom to know what is most important and pursue it relentlessly.

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What Are You Living For?

Neal Pollard

A man had the good fortune and insight to take a chance with a credit card company in the Baltimore area several decades ago. He retired a wealthy, high ranking executive. In the course of his career, he put together a streak so impressive–35 years in which he never missed a day of work–that “Iron Man” Cal Ripken, Jr., wrote him a letter commending him for it. When he retired, the company gave him a classic car as well as many other lavish gifts. He had a great many benefits and perks, the admiration of peers and competitors, resort townhouses, and considerable wealth. But, one day very soon after he retired his life was dramatically changed after a visit to the doctor. He had an aggressive form of cancer. A few months later he was dead.

This is not a commentary on the morality or priorities of the man. I know nothing about either. His story points out that his well-laid plans and successful career could not forestall the inevitable end result common to every man.

It should also provoke a question. What are we living for? Is our identity tied to our career? Do we want to be known as the life of the party? Is it all about travel and adventure? Does life revolve around going to the river, campground, fishing hole, beach, or mountains? Is it sports, shopping, spending, or spirituality? Of necessity, all of us have a central focus. It is the thing that forms the bull’s eye we repeatedly find ourselves aiming at. Too many times, some thing becomes the thing in “first place” over Christianity. Colossians 1:18 reminds us Christ must come to have first place. When it comes to our jobs, Jesus must take first place. When it comes to our recreation, same thing. When it comes to relationships, He deserves primary position. Whatever we say or do, Jesus must be at the forefront.

He warns that we may invest in the wrong kind of treasure rather than the true riches (Mat. 6:19-21). He admonishes us to seek the kingdom first over “things” (Mat. 6:33). He warns against choosing family members over Himself (Mat. 10:37).

When life draws to a close, one will be confronted by the reality of what he or she made first place. Certainly, when we cross the sea of time to eternity, there will be no denying, rationalizing, debating, or arguing what our “bull’s eye” was. But, in our heart of hearts, don’t we all know what’s most important to us right now? It’s what occupies the greatest amount of our interest, time, energy, emotion, and effort. It is what we live for. When we die, will what we live for help us live eternally or be the cause of eternal death (cf. Rev. 21:8)? Let’s hear Paul’s encouragement to “set your affection on things above and not on things of the earth” (Col. 3:2).

Spofforth Church Grounds

Copperopolis, California

Neal Pollard

It boomed when “copper was king” and owed its thriving existence to shell casings made for the Union Army in the far-away Civil War.  Fittingly, her downtown streets were Union, Grant, Lincoln, and Sherman. There were 90 businesses in “Copper City” from 1865-1867. The extraction and production of copper ore found in such strikes as at Gopher Ridge, Quail Hill, and Hog Hill made Copperopolis a boom town for a short time.  A huge fire in the center of town, in 1867, coupled with the enormous drop in demand for copper following the end of the Civil War, left the community a virtual ghost town. So, despite a few modest copper mining rebounds periodically through World War II, Copperopolis, which yielded $12 million in copper from 1861 to 1946, is a shell of its former self. It is a resort and recreation area today, a modest little town who  once entertained the likes of Mark Twain, Nikola Tesla, and “Black Bart” (Charles Boles)(mymotherlode.com,  calaverashistory.org/copperopolis).

History is fascinating, with its “rags to riches,” “riches to rags,” and even “rags to riches to rags” stories.  Family histories play out the same way.  So can the rise and fall of nations.  The history of the church, wherever she has existed, may follow the same trajectory.  The Jerusalem church of Christ, where it all began, once boasted thousands of members.  In time, due to persecution and the introduction of false doctrines, the church there faded from view.  Today, it has only a modest presence. The same could be said of other congregations we read about in the New Testament.  Our congregation is somewhere on its course from the past to the future.  Where will it be in 10 years? 50 years?

Then, I look at my own life.  I have been a Christian for over 30 years.  I have preached for over 25 years. There have been Bible studies with non-Christians and new Christians. There have been efforts to try and influence others with the gospel.  My three sons are all nearly grown and on their own.  My wife and I have labored together to serve Christ.  But, each day, I must look and sincerely investigate what my spiritual trajectory is.  Am I growing nearer to Christ, acting more like Christ? Am I bearing more or less fruit? Are my best days in His kingdom behind me or in front of me? The good news is that, to a great degree, that lies within the scope of my free will and deliberate choices. With God’s help and to His glory, I can make today, tomorrow, and beyond the brightest days of service to Him.

Look at your life.  What legacy are you building? You will help determine that by what you do today.  Paul says, “Therefore be careful how you walk, not as unwise men but as wise, making the most of your time, because the days are evil” (Eph. 5:15-16).

Photograph taken of ruins in Copperopolis, California.