My wife thinks I'm nuts, but over the last couple of years, I've taken to the occasional wandering though a cemetery. I'm not that interested in modern cemeteries, I like to find the really old ones. Well, that is, as old as you can find on the west coast. Most of our cemeteries only go back to the mid 1850's which, coincidentally is about the time California started swelling in numbers due to the 1849 gold rush. Which almost immediately lead to statehood in 1850 and started a migration to California that has yet to stop.As I've wandered through the various cemeteries in town, I've come across many names of some of our local streets. Though I don't know much regarding the story for most of the folks buried there, I still find it interesting to note the names of those who must have had some prominence in our area. In most cases, I suspect that person to have been a hard working farmer or merchant who helped settle our fair city.
My family came to California in 1888, specifically to join the local temperance movement in the city of Lompoc. Which, as it turned out, had pretty much -- not to spare the irony --"dried up" by then. So they must have figured, "What the heck! At least the weather is nicer here than in Michigan. Might as well stay."So, with all that in mind, I've found it interesting to view the tangible artifacts of my family which has come and gone before me. One of those tangible artifacts would be their tombstones. And, call me nuts, but I find a certain grace and beauty to not just MY family's markers, but to many of the older tombstones bearing witness to a human being's span on this earth. Ravaged by the elements, time and neglect, these grave markers seem to tell a story in and of themselves. I find a certain romantic beauty to an aging well crafted monolith in an out of the way graveyard.
Being an amateur historian, or at least someone who loves to watch the history channel as often as I can, I can't help but wonder what are the stories of those pioneers who came to settle the California I live in today. I know some of the story of my family, but I also wonder about ALL those who have come and gone before me.
Some of these stories are very sad indeed. Often I'll find a marker bearing testimony to the passing of a mother and child. No clues are given other than the dates. Or quite often, a tender marker will be left with the carving of a small dove or lamb to mark the untimely passing of a child. Such a stone even exists for my family. My grandfather's sister died as a toddler before he was born. Her name was Rose. To mark her brief time on this earth, they used the carving of a rose to indicate her first name, and then simply added her middle and last names.Yet as interesting as is the history of those who've come and gone before us, and the beauty or pathos I think I can often coax out of a photograph of such stones, is that after viewing and photographing so many of these monoliths, I've become more aware that every one of these folks lived a life as real and full of daily activities as I have in my life. And yet for each one of them, in due course, those activities ceased.
When I drive the streets and freeways, I see people rushing to and fro to this and that as if what they are doing is urgent and important. Heck, most of the time I even do the same. Yet, someday, all that rushing will cease for me. And I will have but left on this earth, some decaying mortal remains and perhaps a granite marker of some sort.As a man of faith in a God who -- as one of His many names -- is called "Ancient of Days," I think it would do us all well to realize that OUR lives are not anything greater than what has come and gone before us. Every human being who's long decayed corpse I walk over in my graveyard expeditions, lived in a here and now which they considered all important ... at the time. But time slowly inches forward, second by second, until we too come to the time where we turn back to the dust from which we came. And, usually, we will have a stone placed somewhere to mark our turn at passing through those seconds.
Typically these days a marker will have a name, a year, a dash, and the final year. God willing, I'm somewhere in the middle of my dash right now. The daily grind I live in now and act as if is quite urgent at times, will be all but forgotten. And in some future year, some other person who will be living in the middle of HIS or HER dash might happen upon my gravestone and wonder about MY story.
So, maybe part of the reason I like to wander through cemeteries and photograph tombstones is to remind me that I am merely taking my brief turn at this life, until I'm called to stand before the One who is Ancient of Days. The One who has seen and noted the comings and goings of ALL the others who have come and gone before me. However, I praise the Ancient One that He made provision for an "empty" tomb in Jerusalem, parenthetically, one I have actually visited. And because of THAT empty tomb, my span of life won't end with the one with which I am currently engaged at this moment. In fact, when I wander a cemetery and note an inscription bearing witness to faith in that Ancient One in whom I trust for an eternal life, I rejoice knowing that I will get to meet that brother or sister, and perhaps hear his or her story when I get to the end of my dash.Perhaps the best quote I've ever heard on this subject came from a missionary named Jim Elliott who was martyred for his faith.
"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."
In other words, if you give your life to Christ in exchange for eternity. How is that a bad deal? You can only hang on to it for maybe 80 or 90 years if you are real lucky. Then what?
So, come to think of it, I guess I'm not alone in my attraction to the beauty of a tombstone. We lost my mother early in 2005, and my father keeps in his wallet this photo I took on Easter morning a few months after Mom died.So I guess you can literally consider tombstones as sort of an "engraved invitation" to join eternity. The way I look at it, if like me, you put your faith in the One who's invitation you can try to ignore for a while, but can't ultimately avoid, then if I don't meet you now, I'll see you at the party.
