Scribbles

December 14, 2008

The scribbles on the tree looked harmless.  Names, years, and relationships.  Bobby + Jenny ’93.  They wanted to remember the time they were here, to remember that moment, that place, like how Jacob gathered the stones in Bethel.

Some people live for fame, to be remembered by others.  But most of us live to be remembered by ourselves and by those closest to us, by those we call friends and loved ones.   From this rememberance we derive meaning.  We want to know that our lives had meaning, a purpose.  So we mark the tree, the bench, and other landmarks with our names, with what identify us in that place and time.

Yet we forget, don’t we?  Days, or perhaps years pass by and we forget about that place, those people.  The happiest moments of our lives are slowly enveloped behind the thick impenetrable fog of time.  We use words, pictures, and movies to aid us in searching through this fog, but they can never clear it.  They all fail to capture these moments.

And eventually, at some moment of awakening, we realizes that not only are the happiest moments forgotten, but our entire selves as well.  We realize that we will fade into that immemorial forgetful sleep.  At the end, there is nothing but sleep.

This is what Christ saves us from.  That is why God put his name, himself on the tree, to bring up the lesser, lower, baser things, to raise them up to Himself.  To cross the dimensions of time, to wake us up from our inevitable lull.  Without Christ, there is no hope of purpose.

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