Eternity

I spent the afternoon and evening last night reading Beyond The Khyber Pass: The Road to British Disaster in the First Afghan War by John H. Waller. It covers the history of the British in the Punjab and the initial British involvement in Afghanistan leading to the First Afghan War culminating in the virtual destruction of a British Army corps and their camp followers (16,500) in retreat.

The book is the kind of history book I best enjoy: well written, giving the historical back story, showing the many small points and people that went into a very poor decision. It’s also the kind of book that makes one think, both about current events (for obvious reasons) as well as the scope and focus of one’s life.

To read of these characters – British, Russian, Afghan, Indian, Sikh, and wandering adventurers – and to read of their plans and goals and dreams and machinations is look through the mirror of history 160 years. Of these matters of great import – the “Great Game” – where are the nations that played it now? Of those who sought to advance goals and plans for corporate, national, or personal enrichment, how did they turn out? Where are they now?

It gives a moment’s pause in reflection to look upon my own life now, my own aspirations and goals. Where will these be in 50 years? In 100 years? I can tell you that they will be in the same place that the Queen’s Own 44th Foot is today: scattered and buried in the brown earth, forgotten and having no impact.

This may initially sound morbid. It is not. It is a clarion call to the fact that anything we do here on earth that is not mingled with Christ’s purpose – anything – can have no lasting impact in the light of eternity. It is only when we turn our purposes and goals away from ourselves – to “deny ourselves, take up our cross daily, and follow Christ” – that we put our lives into something that lasts. It is the difference between spending and investing in something. In the first case, we receive a good now but that is all; in the second case, we work now to receive something better in the future.

We desire, we crave impact – Christians and non-Christians alike. But we set our sights too meagerly on impact: we only look to this world, the here and now, while Christ wants us to look for eternity.

If I were to truly deny myself – if I were (as John MacArthur writes) to “invest totally in His kingdom, unconditional surrender all rights, retain no privileges, make no demands, safeguard no cherished sings, treasure no earthly possessions, and cling to no secret self indulgences” – and seek my impact and goals in Christ’s, what would my life look like? What would eternity look like?