Benchmarking Time As Image Bearers
(One our RISEN Family Members, KC Brown, shared this reflection with us on Tim Jang’s sermon from July 15, 2012.)
“Then we sat on our own star and dreamed of the way that we were and the way that we wanted to be”
Astral Weeks is now my favorite album and King Kong is my favorite movie. Hard Candy and The Royal Tenenbaums have officially been replaced. Oddly, after all these years, it’s hard to actually come to terms with that. Although pop culture favorites are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, they are readily identifiable icons of change. They don’t change, but I do, and it’s kind of bittersweet to note the changes in my life as time passes. Bitter because I must say goodbye to fond memories of good times. Sweet because I accept who I have become and look forward to who I will be, understanding that current favorites and tastes will too change with me. Memories thus become a benchmark of time, pictures to be kept and cherished, but not to be held too tightly.
I saw some photos on Facebook the other day of three old high school friends who recently got married. While happy for them, it gave me pause for a moment to think about how these people were close to me for a while and now they are just images on a computer screen. Or to put it more darkly as Gotye would, just somebody that I used to know. It’s a little bit sad, although I realize, quite natural. People lose touch, drift apart. It’s ok. In fact, it’s necessary. We can’t grow if we remain the people we always were, and part of that is leaving certain things behind. Albums, movies, towns, friends, habits, behaviors, we end up leaving them all behind. As much as growing pains hurt, they are good and necessary. Most of the time we don’t even feel that pain until we look back at our benchmarks. Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds (John 12:24).
“And you shall take me strongly in your arms again and I will not remember that I even felt the pain.”
Which brings us to the Lord. Of all our temporal likes and relationships, His presence is the constant. We return again and again to His word and His story and find the same God. Our responses to scripture may change with our current status, but ultimately His story is the same. He is the Creator and Sustainer of life, and eventually the Redeemer of all things. He came to Earth to live and serve and save. He suffered and suffers and gave Himself over to a humiliating death. Above all though, He loves.
We are created in His image, so we must therefore share in some of his constants; service and love come most readily to mind. If we know that we share in certain constants, and accept that we have experienced a lifetime of change, then it is easy to imagine ourselves as being part of a larger story. Particular characters and scenes lose importance over time, but they anchor the story and the arc of change like chapters of a book.
“Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street…say goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.”
When we start talking about God and books, the obvious connection to make is the Bible, the story of God and his relationship with His people, most notably, Israel. We see Israel born, grow up, screw up, lose their way, return, have children, do jobs, love, hate, forgive and sin. All the things I see when I look back on my own life. And I know that both Israel and I are created in the image of God. My life – every one of our lives – then, becomes a part of the Biblical story. Not in the canon of course, and never to be read as such, but a part of the story nonetheless.
If this is true, and I believe it is, the implications are both exciting and terrifying. I get to share in the same amazing adventures and excitements and joys of the Biblical heroes, but on the other hand, share in their folly and failures. Even more daunting is the idea that my story might be looked at one day with head-scratching disbelief at the poor decisions made and sinful choices indulged in and opportunities missed the way I read about Israel and the Disciples. Why, oh, why, would they fashion a calf of gold when their God led them out of Egypt? How on Earth could Peter deny Jesus after everything he had seen and experienced? And yet how much more guilty am I? At least I had the benefit of learning from those before me.
“Could you find me? Would you kiss-a my eyes? Lay me down in silence easy to be born again.”
But alas, God is good and has already done the painful work of forgiving and we remain created in His image and wait and work towards His restoration. Which brings me back to the benchmarking of time. We are constantly creating new memories and sharing our lives and experiences, thus writing new chapters in our own stories and the stories of others. Every conversation takes on new gravity when it is understood to be a permanent memory in the book. We have the choice to make the story wonderful or tragic every day. Perhaps our stories won’t be documented on onion paper with gilded pages, but we have Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and all the rest for that. How wonderful the day when we look back on our benchmarks, our photos and blogs and memories and don’t lament lost friendships or favorite albums, but instead see the seeds of life sown and eventually the fruits of the harvest.
I don’t expect to keep every friendship I currently have, and some day King Kong won’t be my favorite movie, but I want to be a person who cherishes the present moments because of the way it will influence and bring about the best part of the story. The part of the story where we all see clearly the image of God in ourselves, each other and all of creation and we can all declare that it is good.