Immortalizing Your Life

Double standards, no standards, hypocrisy, and selfish narcissism are just a few of the things that absolutely get my goat these days. No one seemingly wants to accept responsibility for their actions, and the inability to say, “I’m sorry!” has left us with enough pent-up anger and frustration that borders on the edge of explosion.

A married couple cooped up for all these COVID months were at each other’s throats. She seemingly was handling it better than her husband, so he asked her, “How do you stay so calm?” She replied, “I work off my anger by cleaning the toilet.” He then asked, “How does that help?” She replied, “I use your toothbrush.”

There’s got to be a better way, and there is. It’s called forgiveness. Though I know that I should forgive, I tend to cling to Matthew 7:6 and its admonition, “Don’t give what is holy to dogs, and don’t throw your pearls before swine.” In other words, don’t waste good things on those who can’t appreciate them. There are a lot of mongrels and sons-of-mongrels out there, and plenty of oinkers and porkers, too, but does it help if I act like a jerk and blast rather than bless, or poison rather than praise?

It’s almost un-American to let go of revenge and anger. That’s why I like the prayer, “May those who love us, love us; and those who don’t love us; may God turn their hearts, and if he can’t turn their hearts, may he turn their ankles so we’ll know them by their limping.” I also like the story of the big bully and the little guy. The big bully tosses the little guy over his head, and says, “That’s judo. I picked it up in Japan.” A second later the big bully whacks the little guy on the back of the neck, and says, “That’s karate. I picked it up in Korea.” Somehow the little guy squirms away and goes out to his truck and comes back in, pops the big bully on the head and says, “That’s crowbar. I picked it up in Home Depot.”

I want to say, “Yes!” because we like reciprocity, that people get what they deserve, that there are consequences to people’s actions. Rather than payback from God; i.e., “Vengeance is mine, says the Lord,” we want to help out! My dad went to see my grandfather to ask for my mother’s hand in marriage. Papa didn’t even turn around and face him. He was stocking shelves in his country store, and kept his eyes on what he was doing. All he said was, “You make your bed. You’ve got to sleep in it.” He was paraphrasing the Bible, “You reap what you sow.”

Problem is, we all deserve punishment. None of us is squeaky clean. If it’s true that if you live long enough somebody is going to do you wrong, then it’s also true that if we don’t forgive them, we’re letting them do us that wrong forever. Forgiveness is giving up my right to hurt you for hurting me. If we stick with, “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” there’s going to be a bunch of blind toothless people.

We are writing our epitaph every day. Paul made his life motto very clear from his Roman prison cell, “For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. (Philippians 1:21)” Is my epitaph, “Don’t get mad, get even?” I hope not, or I’m burning down the very bridge that I have to cross over myself. An epitaph is a short memoir that sums up what we hope people will remember about us. It answers a question that’s hard to answer in our pandemic panic, “What is my purpose in life?”

Epitaphs should be like mission statements. Like passing the T-Shirt test, as in it needs to fit on a T-Shirt, our mission statements should be short enough to be memorized, and long enough to be memorable. What short significant statement will immortalize your personality and passions? What will be on your grave?

There was a southern family who always went on a little road trip on Sunday afternoons. They would seek out cemeteries and let the kids blow off some steam by making a game of finding the oldest tombstone in the graveyard. One of the children yelled out, “Here’s an 1862!” The family gathered around and read this lady’s epitaph, “Ever she sought the best, ever she found it.” There, in 1862, in the middle of the Civil War, when she could have blamed everything on something or someone else, she took the high road and looked for the best and found it. That’s an epitaph worth living!

I want to be remembered for better than what I’ve been exhibiting lately. How about you?

A 9/11 Memorial

This weekend’s commemoration of 9/11/2001 and a decade of heartache and wondering about the meaning of it all have me thinking about epitaphs and memorials. What did all those people die for? What have the soldiers and wounded warriors died or survived for? How do we sum it up? How do we capture what they went through and fittingly remember? What slogans or proverbs should we devise or utilize to help us frame the angst of a decade marred by fear and death?

Will simple proverbs or sayings do? No, of course, they won’t. That’s too easy, mercenary, or cheesy. Proverbs and the like are a dime a dozen in our culture. New ones are as fresh as the new television season with its Madison Avenue pitches. Slang words and phrases are quickly assimilated into our common vernacular at the speed of our web browser, email carrier, or twitter hash tag. How can we memorialize 9/11 with both poignancy and permanence? A bumper sticker won’t cut it, that’s for sure! That’s not enough. I’ve tried to come up with something catchy, theologically sound, and respectful but I can’t. Where I think I’m headed this weekend is in how we live as a fitting memorial. Our actions will either honor or dishonor the memories of those heroes from the past ten years.

This begs the question: How do we live? What are our life mottoes? We all make some sort of statement when we walk in and out of the house, wear an US flag-themed tie, or a Gamecock hat. Most of us have little mottoes and mantras that define who we are, what we stand for, or where we’re from. Decals on cars declare OIB (Ocean Isle Beach) or HI (Hilton Head) or an allegiance to a certain sports team. One of the best symbols of the fair state of South Carolina is the Palmetto and Crescent that grace everything from vehicles to t-shirts.

Symbols and life mottoes give us an identity. They provide us with instant affinity groups. They do have rules, though. They should pass the t-shirt test. If they can’t fit on a -shirt, then they’re too long. Before t-shirts we put them on tombstones and called them “epitaphs.” Someone once said that such epitaphs, life mottoes, or mission statements should be short enough to be memorized and long enough to be memorable. How appropriate! The one that fits the United Methodist Church is like that: “MD4C” – Making Disciples for Christ.

I’ve seen some remarkable life mottoes in recent years from comedians to poets. Lily Tomlin purportedly claimed, “We’re all in this together – alone,” as her motto. Poet John Gay’s epitaph reads: “Life is jest, and all things show it. I thought so once, but now I know it.” There’s the humorous and the sublime. You can decide which is which: “Some days you’re a pigeon. Some days you’re a statue.” Then there’s the one: “God give me work until my life shall end and life until my work is done.”

What sign or symbols will be on your memorial? Could it be that we’re writing them right now? Joanne Lynn and Joan Harrold in their book Handbook for Mortals give some guidance in writing life themes. They call them the “Four R’s for the Spirit.” First is remembering. They ask us to take time to reflect on life and all of its happenings – accomplishment, failures, triumphs and tragedies. Next comes reassessing. They suggest that we should ask what our lives have added up to, or who we really have been, then share these thoughts with the people who know and love us so that they can give us their take. The third “R” is reconciling where we try to be at peace with our own imperfections. Last they suggest that we try reuniting, being at peace with others, friends and foes. As they put it about reconciling, “It is important to come together with friends when you can have the chance to say farewells and it’s important with enemies to say forgive me and I forgive you.” All four “R’s” can aid us in getting our epitaph written before our death rather than afterwards. I think this process can really help us do justice to those touched by the 9/11 tragedy.

With all the death and destruction from 9/11 and the resulting wars, we need to be people intent on memorable mission statements and life mottoes, creating epitaphs worth remembering. After we’re dead and gone people won’t have to wonder what to put on our tombstone. Maybe we should go ahead now and ask them what they have in mind to use because it’s not too late for a revision. 9/11 has me thinking about memorials, both mine and the ones we erect in our day-to-day actions for the victims of the last ten years.

Focus and Mottoes

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Proverbs abound in our culture. New ones are as fresh as the new television season with their Madison Avenue’s pitches. Slang words and phrases are quickly assimilated into our common vernacular at the speed of our web browser or email carrier. Perhaps we all have statements that we make when we walk in and out of the house. We have little mottoes and mantras that define who we are or where we’re from. Decals on cars declare OIB (Ocean Isle Beach) or PI (Pawley’s Island). One of the best symbols of our fair state is the Palmetto and Crescent that graces everything from vehicles to t-shirts.

 

I have been watching the Olympics with great interest amazed at the dedication and determination that these athletes have exhibited. Of course Michael Phelps’ feat of 8 Gold medals is impressive, and so is 41-year-old Dara Torres’ Silver medal accomplishment. I have especially liked listening to their post-event interviews although I’m a little bored with Phelps’ standard line, “Once again, I’m at a loss for words.” He has said some remarkable things like, “If you you’re determined, you can accomplish your dreams.” Given his ADHD diagnosis, that says a lot to everyone. Focus is important, or how else do you explain Dara Torres’ ability to juggle motherhood, family, and swimming? Notice the focused beam of light in this morning’s webcam shot from Mt. Mitchell. Where this is going is what would I say in my post-life interview or, better yet, what would others say was my focus, my mission statement?

 

Life mottoes and symbols give us an identity. They provide us with instant affinity groups. They should all pass the t-shirt test. If they can’t fit on a t-shirt, then they’re too long. Before t-shirts we put them on tombstones and called them “epitaphs.” Someone once said that life mottoes or mission statements should be short enough to be memorized, but long enough to be memorable. How appropriate!

 

I’ve seen some remarkable life mottoes in recent years, from comedians to poets. Lily Tomlin purportedly claimed, “We’re all in this together ­– alone,” as her motto. Poet John Gay’s epitaph reads: “Life is jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it.” There’s the humorous and the sublime. You decide which is which: “Some days you’re a pigeon. Some days you’re a statue,” and “God give me work until my life shall end and life until my work is done.”

 

What sign and symbols will be on your tombstone? Could it be we’re writing them right now whether we like it or not? Joanne Lynn and Joan Harrold in their Handbook for Mortals give some guidance in writing life themes. They call them the “Four R’s for the Spirit.” First is remembering. They ask us to take time to reflect on life and all of its happenings, both accomplishments and failures. Reassessing comes next. They suggest that we should ask what our lives have added up to, or who we really were, then share these thoughts with the people who know and love us. The third “R” is reconciling where we try to be at peace with our own imperfections. Last they suggest that we try reuniting, being at peace with others, especially those we love. As they put it about reconciling, “It is important to come together with family and friends, when you can, and to have the chance to say farewells.” All four “R’s” can aid us in getting our epitaph written before our death rather than after.

I want to be a person intent on memorable missions, creating an epitaph worth remembering. Then after I’m gone people won’t have to wonder about what to put on my tombstone. Maybe I should go ahead and ask them now what they have in mind. Better yet, it’s not too late for me to make a revision.