[Paul said, before leaving Ephesus:] "...And now I commend you to God and to the message of his grace, a message that is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all who are sanctified. I coveted no one's silver or gold or clothing. You know for yourselves that I worked with my own hands to support myself and my companions. In all this I have given you an example that by such work we must support the weak, remembering the words of the Lord Jesus, for he himself said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive'." When he had finished speaking, he knelt down with them all and prayed. There was much weeping among them all; they embraced Paul and kissed him, grieving especially because of what he had said, that they would not see him again. Then they brought him to the ship." [Acts 20:32-38]
I hope that at the end of my life, my name will not be etched in stone or erected in big gold letters anywhere. I think, if I am reading the New Testament right, having one's name in big gold letters on a building is a sign of missing the boat, or at least missing the point of Jesus' movement of mercy.
The point of being a part of God's Reign, God's "kingdom," is not to leave our own names on impressive buildings or majestic structures, but to have left soul-prints on the wounded and tender hearts of others whom the Spirit sent across our path. Less gilded lettering, more gentle love. Fewer granite facades, more graced faces.
That is one of the reasons I love this powerful scene from late in the book of Acts, as bittersweet as it is. Here is Paul the apostle--ironically, someone whose name gets chiseled in stone and put up in golden letters on church signs around the world... probably much to the chagrin of Paul himself!--ready to get on board the ship that will take him to Jerusalem, and on to an arrest and a trial and sentencing in Rome for being a threat to the empire. Paul has spent three years in Ephesus--the longest stay Paul had in a single location during the course of his missionary years, actually--and now he knows it is time to go. Tearfully, Paul now says his goodbyes, knowing that all he is leaving behind... is people.
They are changed people, to be sure--because since Paul's coming with the freeing news of Jesus, their lives have been turned inside out with the grace of God. They have belonging when they had been outsiders. They have love for those who had been unacceptable and estranged. They are turned inside out, no longer bent solely in on themselves but oriented outward to everyone around them--neighbor, stranger, and enemy alike. The people have been changed, but there is no monument, building, or edifice to commemorate that Paul had been there doing it. There is only the story, handed down from those first believers, on through the centuries, in what we now call the book of Acts, and there were the lives that were changed themselves. But Paul left no towers behind--my goodness, the early Christians were all just meeting in each other's living rooms and then in the catacombs before anybody ever built a building for a church to use!
And yet, that is exactly how it is supposed to be for the people of God. We are part of a movement, not a structure. Jesus intention is to draw all people together into his ongoing unfolding movement, not to build a really cool skyscraper or cathedral. Neither Jesus, nor Paul here in Acts, leaves any towers behind or any record of their names etched in stone to "prove" their "importance." Instead, you and I are the evidence of the revolution Jesus began, and that Paul ran with. You and I, who at some point along the way were brought into the mercy of God and have never been the same, we are the tracks left by the wounded feet of Jesus on the history of the world.
I am reminded of a line attributed to William Faulkner that goes something like this: "Life is not about making monuments, but instead, making footprints. A monument only says, 'At least I got this far,' while a footprint says, 'This is where I was when I moved again'."
That's what Paul gets--and what he learned from the Spirit of the living God. He is literally getting on board a boat, but in a sense, that's a snapshot of what the whole Christian life is like--a movement in process, an action, a lifetime of love poured out moment by moment, but ultimately observable in the end the way a boat leaves ripples in the water behind it, but no engraved plaques in its wake.
You and I are indeed called to leave the world a changed place because of the love God poured through us as we have made our way through the waters, but the change God cares about is in lives rather than buildings or monuments or--God forbid!--monstrous gold letters on towers. People will have known they were in the presence of Christ's people, not because they read the names inscribed on a cornerstone, but because we will have shared a table with the hungry, welcomed those who were told they did not belong, and shared the news of Jesus cross-shaped love with people. Their lives will have soul-prints left on them, not gilded signs saying, "Steve was here."
It's not only "ok" that we won't leave behind our names etched in stone--that is how God would have it. After all, God's preferred way of showing up with the people throughout history was the moving (moving!) pillar of cloud and fire that went with them on the way, rather than the stationary, fixed walls of a Temple. If God isn't interested in stone structures or gold-leaf inscriptions, it's a pretty good sign that we don't need to fuss with those, either.
Today, don't worry, not one bit, about leaving a tower behind to prove you were here. Today, like Paul showed us before, leave lives that are marked forever with the audacious grace of God, and then get on board for the next day's voyage.
Lord Jesus, let your love leave fingerprints on the lives of others, and lead us to look for ways your to make a difference in the ways we act and speak and love.
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