pillars and heaps

“Get it in writing.” I wish I knew how many people have given me that advice. What they mean is you can’t just take a person’s word. If they put a commitment in writing, then they can’t claim they never said it. Or they can’t forget; you always have the paper to remind them.

In the early days of this world, the time recorded in the book of Genesis, they didn’t write things down. The story of Jacob and his father-in-law Laban, which I read this morning, describes what they did instead. “Laban also said to Jacob, "Here is this heap, and here is this pillar I have set up between you and me. This heap is a witness, and this pillar is a witness, that I will not go past this heap to your side to harm you and that you will not go past this heap and pillar to my side to harm me. May the God of Abraham and the God of Nahor, the God of their father, judge between us.’” Genesis 31:51-53.

No writing, but a ton of work. Hauling and piling up rocks is work no one does anymore; there are machines for that. And a pillar was a single large stone, probably shaped with hand tools. Hard to make, and hard to move and put up.

Laban and Jacob put in all that work into those markers, but those markers would last for generations. For Laban and Jacob, the heap and pillar would remind them to keep their motives pure if they traveled past. For their ancestors, these rocks would keep the memory alive. “Grandpa, what’s that pillar for?” “Child, your ancestors Jacob and Laban put those there. Let me tell you why.”

I doubt if anything in my life is going to last that long. What would a memory heap look like these days? I have some medals I won while serving in the Army Guard. I guess someday a great-grandchild could find one and read the citation, but he or she still won’t really know what I did or what the medal signifies. Maybe something I write will survive, but that doesn’t seem likely.

In the end I think my descendants themselves will be my marker for the world. By God’s grace, maybe someday someone will ask Jacen’s grandchildren why they are such loving, helpful people. Maybe they’ll say, “We're Christians. Our family has always relied on God, as far back as we can remember.” Maybe my grandkids will make the world stop and wonder about the Jesus they claim to serve.

If they do, they won’t be my markers. They’ll be God’s. Even better.