Several weeks ago a young man in our church died of cancer at the age of twenty-two. The pastor who attended him told us that by way of confession he had said, with much regret, that he had “spent his money on a lot of junk,” and wanted him to pass to others his admonition not to follow him in this folly. He also regretted that he had not accomplished much. Our immediate reaction, of course, is to ask just how much a boy of twenty-two thinks he has been obliged before God to accomplish. But God knows, and it is unwise for us to make light of these things.
It strikes me that the confession that one has spent his money on junk and not accomplished much can hardly be improved upon. It is, in a manner of speaking, the sum of the confession that all believers must make—what the Lord said we must say even if we have done all that is required of us. So Chris, I pass this along here to thousands of people you never dreamed would hear it, and to whom it is far weightier than you imagined it might be. Here is wisdom: Don’t spend your money on junk.
The other part of his confession had to do with unfulfilled ambition. While ambition is easily corrupted by selfishness, in itself it is an unqualified good, implanted by God in the soul, of men especially. The desire to accomplish a task, to fulfill a quest, to win the battle, to achieve the highest and best so as to leave a permanent and admirable mark on the world, is a good thing, and to lack the desire of it is an evil. High accomplishment in the Lord’s sight is something everyone can do, for while he does not distribute his talents equally, he weighs their use with a perfectly just balance, visiting upon us the divine paradox that even if we do all that is required (which no one can do) we are unworthy servants, he is mightily pleased with those who do what he demands, and rewards them richly.
The young man who regretted dying without accomplishing much was paying tribute to the commands of his Lord, and seeking a task to fulfill. His pastor recognized it, so admonished him to play the man and die well. This he did, to the glory of God and as an example to friends, who will carry the memory as long as they live. Just as the confession of his principal faults was the sum of what a man can confess as failure, dying well is the sum of the good he can do, though he live and work a hundred years.
Agreed, it is good not to spend our money on junk. It also takes wisdom to recognize something is junk.
I deeply appreciate Mere Comments - keep up the good work.
Posted by: Mark Pike | July 20, 2007 at 08:41 PM
That was a reasurring post. There is one line from "Mere Christianity" that has haunted me for years: "Some of us who seem quite nice people may, in fact, have made so little use of a good heredity and a good upbringing that we are really worse than those whom we regard as fiends." Or, as Our Lord put it in Luke 12:48, "Every one to whom much is given, of him will much be required."
"...pray for us sinners, now, and at the hour of our death."
Posted by: Darrel Hoerle | July 20, 2007 at 09:17 PM
A wise young man. He has left me in the dust.
Memory Eternal!
Posted by: Philippa Alan | July 20, 2007 at 09:50 PM
It also takes wisdom to recognize something is junk.
Does it really? From a certain angle, it's pretty much all junk -- or if not junk, then not worth one's money. Even the money itself is not worth the time we spend thinking about it.
Posted by: DGP | July 21, 2007 at 01:18 AM
>>>Does it really? From a certain angle, it's pretty much all junk -- or if not junk, then not worth one's money. Even the money itself is not worth the time we spend thinking about it.<<<
"Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."
(I haven't looked to see how the New American Bible has mangled that one).
Posted by: Stuart Koehl | July 21, 2007 at 07:58 AM
Alas, I am undone by the wisdom of youth in the clarity of death where all is understood.
Posted by: Fr. Robert McMeekin | July 21, 2007 at 04:01 PM
My thanks to Mr. Hutchens for passing this along. I'll bet there are more struggling with this thought than would care to admit this struggle.(I am one)
May God welcome you with open arms for the blessing you've given to me with this truth.
I will light many candles for you today at afternoon service.
Thank you Chris, though you did not know me, you have helped me.
Posted by: Mikey the Younger | July 23, 2007 at 10:45 AM