When You Die, No One Will Care

I was one of those lucky few (that seems to be dwindling) that had a great collection of professors that had various viewpoints that they willingly encouraged students to challenge. One of those was when one of the literary professors asked by a show of hands how many people knew all four of their grandparents' names? Most of the hands went up. What about great-grandparents? Fewer hands. Great-great-grandparents? Fewer hands still. Then he told us, “When you die, no one will care.” He said with a slight laugh, “you’re worm food!”

It was within the context of a non-fiction writing class. It was an exercise for writing about things in context, exploring things and making meaning in the now. That was one of the foundations I think he was getting at. Theophan the Recluse, a saint in the Orthodox Church, said that you can’t do things for the good of humanity as a whole, or leave a legacy or anything like that because you don’t know what you leave behind you. It is better to pursue that betterment of the individuals before your very eyes. He writes this in a series of letters to a young woman perplexed by these new ideas of leaving a mark on the world and responds say:

You must get out of your head all plans for the immensely useful, all-embracing humanitarian activity that the modernists rave about, and your life, having been set in a peaceful frame and leading without commotions toward the primary goal, will then have a focus.

Progress became a central idea in the turn of the 20th century as the 19th-century industrial revolution brought comforts unheard of. We equated the idea that material comfort is the epitome of social upheaval. We look at all that we have done and changed as a social good. But then came the doubt. Modern medicine made breakthroughs at the cost of experimentations of minority populations and slaves. We have a highway system, cities, glass, and technologies built with sand imported from 3rd countries. The poorest people on Earth pick our food and make our clothes. We use an internet-fueled by minerals that are dug up under the blood of children.

All of this “progress” has come (and is maintained) at a great cost. I think that the only true marks people can leave on the world are scars.

The truth is we are always wounding. And so we must also always mend. We are not all that important, neither is the person or people we think are. Time will make everyone insignificant in death. But while we are still alive, while we can see and act with our hands and move with our feet, we should. The present is that which is most significant.

I am thankful, more than grateful for the modern amenities that are afforded to me. But, I also carry the weight of what this life costs, with the higher the standard of living, the greater the wound. A wise Egyptian monk (a Desert Father) once said, “It is better to own nothing at all.” Theophan the Recluse seems to have the same idea. Limit your scope, simplify your life, and do the good which is most immediate to your physical locale. Love those around you and look to put the interests of others before your own. What good is self-esteem in the midst of such a life?

There is a dissolution with the width, the span, trying to reach as many people as possible. Perhaps it is foolish for us to worry about such things. Perhaps it is better to worry about breadth. What depth does the life we live bring have? “If one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,” but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it (James 2:16)?”

It is hard to do good and go unrewarded, perhaps for your entire life. There is a famous quote by Vincent Van Gogh that says: “Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way.”

But that isn’t the whole quote:

So now what are we to do, keep this fire alive inside, have salt in ourselves, wait patiently, but with how much impatience, await the hour, I say, when whoever wants to, will come and sit down there, will stay there, for all I know? May whoever believes in God await the hour, which will come sooner or later. (To Theo Van Gogh)

Most open themselves up, the cold comes in and smothers the warmth. The winds blow over the salt. For a short while before the ruin, perhaps there is some comfort the person gives. We must be patient for the ones to come and receive the greatest comfort. For they will come sooner or later.