Blog

For some time now, I have been fascinated that because I exist, the DNA of someone who died thousands of years ago is still floating around in my body, and therefore, in my mind, is still in some inexplicable way, alive. I am no scientist, so that may not be accurate, but, while a stickler for confirming fake and real news, I am content not to have that verified. Rev. Dr. Hugh Farquhar in his Weekly Reflection Booklet, Come and See, spoke of having a similar feeling when he stood at the grave of his great-grandfather, a man he had never met and thought, “Your blood flows in my veins. … did it ever occur to you that one day I might exist?” Did that unknown, unnamed woman and man of whom I am a descendant ever think that some time in the very distant future someone carrying their bloodline would be? Maybe where we come from matters more as we age.

In the Genesis reading today, Abram is told: “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them … so shall your descendants be.” Abram (Abraham) and his wife Saria (Sarah) are old and childless when made this promise – long past the time of childbearing age. Throughout their story, Genesis keeps giving us their ages as momentous events unfold in their lives. Why is that important for us to know, I wonder? Is it because seemingly impossible events will occur to these incredibly old people who trusted, obeyed, and hoped. Are we all meant to trust and hope while responding to the calls God makes of us? Ultimately, they have a son – by which time Abraham is 100 and Sarah 91 years old. Even they had doubted that such an event would ever happen at so advanced ages.

I understand the importance and desire of leaving descendants. At the same time as I was giving birth to my second child, 1985, another famous Abraham – Lincoln – was reaching the end of his line. Within 120 years of his death, the last of Lincoln’s direct descendants had died. When I first learned this historical fact years ago, I felt saddened somehow. Other than through the history books I did not know this man, or his family – there was no connection. How many billions of others over the course of human history have faded completely from existence? How many died after only living weeks, or moments? How many were conceived, and not born, or born dead? In some way, even those have left their mark because we all leave some sort of legacy. The world has been changed by our presence in it or absence from it. Often, we get to choose whether that change is good or evil.

Children are a gift to their parents, to the present, to the future. In many ways, they are a bridge that connects their parents to the future. A profound sadness in our lives, is that it is becoming increasingly apparent that Wayne and I will have no grandchildren. I wanted someone to wonder about me thousands of years from now – to wonder who I was, what I was like. Millions of others face the same reality Wayne and I face. Yet, I must accept that in some incomprehensible way, we all leave a legacy. Sometimes that legacy is tangible, sometimes it is not. Really only God knows … and maybe only God needs to.

In the Judeo-Christian tradition, we too are included among those descendants of Abraham and Sarah. We too, are one of the stars pointed out to him by God. Which, I suppose means, I can finally put a name to at least two more of my ancestors.

~Ellen Bennett