Perhaps it's being in transition. Perhaps it's
moving some distance from family. Perhaps it's reading Victor Hugo's monumental
Les Misérables. Perhaps something else has been the catalyst, but
recently I've been musing some about legacies and the anonymity with which most
people live and die.
Consider two individuals who were not anonymous and
who were near contemporaries two millennia ago. First, Julius Caesar imposed
himself on the shaky structures of the Roman republic, transforming it into an
empire. He is survived by some of his writings, his image memorialized in sculpture
and coins that still survive, and the month of July was named in his honor. The twenty-first century world is
certainly different because of Caesar, but without knowing what this century
would be like had Julius Caesar never lived it is difficult to specify the
differences attributable to him.
Second, Jesus of Nazareth left no writings and no actual
likeness of him survives, if one was even made. Yet the world is assuredly
different because of Jesus. In some way, of which scholars debate virtually
every detail, Jesus' relationship with his closest followers so moved them that
after his death they formed what began as a new Jewish sect and quickly morphed
into a new religion, Christianity. Claims that Jesus rose from the dead are the
most facile explanation of what happened. Most non-Christians reject that
claim. And among Christians diverse, contradictory explanations of Jesus'
alleged resurrection have contended for adherents, persisting in spite of efforts
by an orthodoxy established in the fourth century to suppress all competing
views as heresy. Other explanations of Jesus' life-altering effect on his
original followers usually emphasize his personal charisma.
The world is better and worse because of Jesus. By
at least one historian's count, religion caused approximately ten percent of
all wars. Presume Christianity caused a substantial portion of those wars. Christianity
also has contributed to the evils of colonialism, racism, sexism, etc.
Conversely, Christianity has inspired great altruism that has stopped wars, fed
the hungry, cared for the sick, motivated educational and charitable
organizations, inspired support for human rights, etc. Assessing the magnitude
of the evil attributed to Christianity seems a simpler task than assessing the
magnitude of the good attributable to Christianity. Much of the evil is both visible
and specific: the number of people killed or injured, the amount of property
damaged, etc. Of course, the injury to minds, with the follow-on second or third
order effects, is impossible to quantify. Conversely, measuring the number of
lives saved or bettered by a physician who cares for the sick because of Jesus represents
a much more difficult calculation: the number of the physician's patients may
be known, but the percent who would have died if not treated by that physician
is indeterminable. Furthermore, the good done to minds, with follow-on second
and third order effects, like the evil done to minds, is unquantifiable.
I expect to die in anonymity, even as I have happily
chosen to live in anonymity. My writings, much as I might occasionally wish to
the contrary, will soon pass into oblivion, even on the internet. The few extant
likenesses of me (photographs, sketches, digital images, etc.) will soon
disappear, lose any tag that identifies the likeness with me, or pass into the
hands of people who never knew me and have no interest in preserving my memory.
I will happily give my allotted 15 minutes of fame to any successful claimant.
Children are the most common way in which people
hope to leave a mark upon the world. Jesus sired no known offspring. Julius
Caesar's biological children all died at a relatively young age; they are no
more than footnotes to his life. Christianity remembers Jesus' presents.
Caesar's parents are forgotten. In both cases, neither man would have changed
the world had it not been for his parents. In common with an increasing number
of people in the developed world, I will leave no progeny.
Consequently, the relative handful of people I have
known in my life (they total in the thousands, but on a globe populated by
seven billion people, this is a relative handful) constitute the most probable
way in which my living will have made a difference. Nobody has the wisdom and
knowledge to identify, much less quantify, the good – and the inevitable even
if unintentional evil – that I have done. Incidentally, some cultures have
employed the idea of an all-knowing being who rewards the good and punishes the
bad (.e.g., God, according to some Islamic, Christian, and other theological traditions;
Santa Claus in folklore) to motivate good behavior and dissuade putative
miscreants.
If biologists are correct and genes have an
inherent drive to perpetuate themselves, then humans – an arguably unique
species because of our limited autonomy and spirituality – have a similar,
inherent drive to perpetuate ourselves through some form of legacy.
What is the legacy you wish to leave?
Do you wish the world to remember you as a
statesperson, military leader, author, inventor, artist, or?
Do you wish the world to remember you personally or
simply to leave the world a different, hopefully better, place because you
lived?
Do you wish your legacy to be like that of Jesus,
where the individual is forgotten (Christian theologians describe this as
kenosis, self-emptying), and the lives of others changed for the good (the
abundant life that so many of those who live in Jesus' name continue to
experience)?
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