In the cemetery I’m visiting, the tombstones are as varied as the lives they remember. Traditional granite bricks and round-topped stones, engravings in print and script. Some ornate. Some simple.
As I walk between and around them, a few tall obelisks stand out from the crowd. I wondered about these towering headstones, marble and granite pointing to the heavens like the outstretched finger of a winning athlete.
The Washington Monument is, perhaps, the most iconic obelisk known to Americans, its shape dating back to the architectural genius of ancient Egypt. In his book Washington’s Monument: And the Fascinating History of the Obelisk, John Steele Gordon writes, “The obelisk, silent as only stone can be, nonetheless seems to say as nothing else can, ‘Here is something significant.’”
When I contemplate a significant life, my mind doesn’t picture the tallest tombstone. Rather, did I love generously? Did I act honestly, and authentically? Did I walk humbly? Did I contribute meaningfully? This cemetery pilgrimage leaves me full of questions.
“Something significant.”
I imagine we’d all like our lives to be so remembered. What does a significant life look like to you? What are its marks? Its characteristics?
This Lent offers us a multitude of opportunities to reflect upon our lives, renew our faith and return to God.
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