This is the
time of year when some of us resume huddling around the fireplace, relishing its
fiery warmth and the crackling of wood as the flames consume it. As the fire
roars, we’re comforted by the heat and light of combustion. Of course, once the
fire has died and heat has subsided, all that remains is a pile of ashes.
Sometimes our
lives can seem that way. We pursue tasks with zest, dedicating much time and
effort in getting them done. We plan, prepare, perform, and eventually finish the
task. But then we realize our zealous commitment has resulted in little of
lasting value. Maybe that’s what legendary songstress Peggy Lee had in mind
when she sang, “It That All There Is?”
It’s not that
the things we’re doing are necessarily bad. Careers can occupy endless hours, both
in tackling immediate responsibilities and striving for better, more rewarding
opportunities. Or we might be renovating our homes – in with the new and out
with the old. Hobbies, whether they involve a favorite sport like golf,
developing a talent or skill, or even doing research for “fantasy football,”
can provide many pleasurable hours.
Then there are
the enticing things our material world offers – houses, cars, clothing,
electronic gadgets of all sizes and purposes. Eventually, however, stuff gets
old, broken, or obsolete, and we find ourselves acquiring replacements. These
things make us happy – for a while.
The problem is,
in chasing after the good, are we failing to achieve the very best?
The Bible
speaks about this, warning against devoting a lifetime to what one day will
amount to little more than a pile of ashes: “wood, hay and stubble.”
“If any man builds on this foundation using gold,
silver, costly stones, wood, hay or straw, his work will be shown for what it
is, because the Day will bring it to light. It will be revealed with fire, and
the fire will test the quality of each man’s work. If what he has built
survives, he will receive his reward. If it is burned up, he will suffer loss;
he himself will be saved, but only as one escaping through the flames” (1 Corinthians 3:12-15).
Imagine coming
to the end of your life, examining the end product and discovering an ash pile?
This is why
Jesus offered stern words of caution to the throng of thousands during his
so-called “Sermon on the Mount”: “Do not
store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and
where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in
heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in
and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew
6:19-21).
If He had
spoken these words today, Jesus might have used a contemporary analogy, noting we
never see a hearse pulling a trailer packed with stuff. In speaking of true,
eternal treasure, the Lord was admonishing us that we can’t take it with us –
but we can send it ahead.
What kind of
“treasures” might these be? The list of possibilities is virtually endless, but it seems each would involve acts like mercy, compassion, kindness, generosity
and love. With a focus on others rather than self.
Even though
Jesus spent his three-year earthly ministry teaching and serving as an example
of how to live and interact with others, He always kept His eye on the ultimate
destination, a stark cross atop a despised hill. From the time of His birth,
Jesus was here for others. And in one way or another, so should we.
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