He also says, In the beginning, Lord, you laid the foundations of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
They will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
You will roll them up like a robe;
like a garment they will be changed.
But you remain the same,
and your years will never end. (Hebrews 1:10-12)
Back in the late 1990s, I spent a good bit of my professional time as a staff member and then director for my school’s Master Teachers Workshop. This annual event gathered several dozen teachers from assorted departments to share good ideas, approaches, and challenges with each other. After leading the entertainment one year, I fell into the directorship for the next three. And today, all I have to show for those years are a couple of lines on my resume and a pair of t-shirts.
Each year, at the close of the workshop, we distributed some nice long-sleeve t-shirts with a spider-web design imprinted on them. We’d wear them for our group photo and then, if we remembered, for the first day back on campus. Over the years, I accumulated seven of those shirts. Eventually, a couple of them disappeared into my daughters’ clutches. A couple of others fell apart from repeated wear and washing. Today, two of them, thin and seam-weary still hang in my closet. They’ll probably meet the rag bag in the next few months.
Our favorite garments last but a few years. Our own lives last but a few decades. Even nations seem to endure for a but a few centuries. But not Christ. Christ was old when the cannons fired on Fort Sumter provoking the Civil War. He was ancient when the pilgrims stepped ashore at Plymouth. When William the Conqueror took control of England in 1066, Christ had been around for–for–well, forever.
Let us not put our trust in our clothes unless they are the robes of righteousness provided by the eternal one. Our trust, if it is at all meaningful, lies in what cannot and will not end.