Eternity in View

Teach me to live with eternity in view. (from Brendan Liturgy, Part XVI in Celtic Daily Prayer)

What is your horizon?

49DAAF02-0B59-4A23-81F4-DB5531FF7CE3.jpeg

For a season my horizon was redecorating a house. After my mother passed away I wanted to create a new sense of home in this house I had inherited. For three years I focused on each step of the process to shape a suburban bi-level into a space reminiscent of an English country cottage and a writer’s retreat as much as possible. First, I repainted and carpeted the master bedroom and moved in my furniture. Next, it was time for new windows, driveway, and siding. Then I removed the furniture in the walkout basement, painted it Morris Room Gray, prepared it for built-in bookshelves. Once all this was complete, the house became a canvas ready to fill with furniture, area rugs, and pictures of favorite places.

Throughout this renovation my mind was laser-focused on each next task. Once finished it would finally be my home. People would come over: students, friends, family. But first I had to finish getting the space just right, putting my world in order. Everything else diminished in this narrow line of sight. If other opportunities arose in front of me, I often rejected them or just didn’t see them. I couldn’t think beyond those next steps that seem so monumental. When the project was complete, then I could look beyond.

Whether related to the renovation, or other projects, that goal may be important, but is usually not commensurate to the energy I expend. Focusing on short horizons I am looking only as far as the point I think I can manage. That’s the key. With such limited vision, I have the illusion of control.

With respect to the house, the project seemed finished when I purchased a chair for the basement and hung the few last pictures. Now that it’s put together it’s beautiful, maybe even welcoming, but it also feels sterile. I had focused so much on the place that I neglected building deeper community with people. Family doesn’t come around that much. It’s too far away for students or faculty to easily drop by. So I’m starting with another plan to fill the house with people by inviting more friends over and even hosting a small group.. These are things I can do. But that may be the problem again.

Even my plans for inviting people into this space are stuck within my limited world. Instead it could extend beyond to a view that I may not be able to see, but that which comes with a promise of God’s presence. In this reality, it doesn’t matter how the home looks, but the process by which it comes to be. It doesn’t matter if the “right” people visit, but that I listen to God’s invitation to open this space in His way.

Jesus constantly invites us to look up and beyond. He invites us to seek first his kingdom so that we broaden our horizon and don’t get stuck in the smallness of our worlds. John records that as Jesus celebrated the passover meal before his arrest, he promised his disciples that he was preparing an eternal place for them. That perfect house - you may say. But unlike me, he didn’t forget the people that would be living there. Like the promise of a bridegroom in love with his bride, he wanted to assure his followers that even though he was leaving for a while, he would return to take them with him to that new home.

 “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. John 14:1-3

A solemn promise. In the hours ahead the disciples would need this expanded horizon as Jesus was put on trial and crucified. With that view towards eternity they had a glimpse of a different endpoint, even if they didn’t fully understand it and the next things were out of their control.

As I reflect on creating that perfect house, I’m learning that keeping my eyes on eternity is about being the person who God is forming in the midst of the tasks, and not necessarily focusing on the tasks themselves. This frees me up not to be chained to my small understanding about what I can control. With such a view, I can hold individual outcomes lightly. I can stop obsessing. I can live and engage with each day’s work. In looking at eternity, I am free to try and fail, and then to start again. What a view!

Previous
Previous

Music of Heaven

Next
Next

Appoint Me to the Task