Just what is a legacy, and what is it for? Furthermore, why does it resonate with so many, and is it a thing of any importance at all, or simply an emotional tradition related to pride or materialism? What difference does a legacy make, and to whom, other than the obvious transfer of wealth or property? And, if it is significant beyond that, what are we to do about it?
Like many of us, Nicole confuses legacy with memory; but I like her song nonetheless.
It may seem as if there is little to be confused about. We think of a legacy as a good thing, generally, unless that legacy passes on a character flaw or the unpleasant memory of one, and some would say that everyone leaves a legacy in one way or another. But a legacy has more depth to it and deserves closer consideration if we want to revive its importance, especially if we want to properly apply it to our lives.
The meaning of the word legacy has suffered a good bit of creep in common parlance. If you were to check your desktop dictionary, it would define a legacy as a "...bequest; something handed down from the past." That's pretty straight-forward. It means a tangible inheritance, something like money or property, or a trait or tradition passed on. But, in modern usage, we often go well beyond that meaning. Many self-help gurus and self-esteem advocates expand the meaning of legacy by asking the questions “How do you want to be remembered” or “What good have you done in the world.” Those questions, while very egalitarian, push the meaning of legacy well beyond practical usefulness. Although it may be kind to define legacy so as to include every man, to do so strips it of its inherent meaning and worth and robs us of a higher ideal.
To my thinking, there is a critical and clear difference between a legacy and a memory. For example, my father may have left an inheritance to me (he did not) or I may practice the traditions and habits he embraced (I often do.) But his habits of judicious thinking and gentleness, those things he is most characterized by and remembered for, remain with his memory and don't obtain to me or to any of my siblings that I can see. They are not necessarily handed down to us, his progeny; we simply admire and remember and cherish them. The fact that we do not possess them detracts from them being his defining legacy. In a sense, it seems that we, his 7 children, may be his legacy, but unless we embrace his character traits and apply them in our lives as a lodestar or guiding light, they remain just a memory, a fond remembrance of him, fit only for loving words on a tombstone. In fact, it seems the common use of the term legacy has well outpaced it's dictionary definition, and maybe we should tidy our thinking. For efficacy’s sake, let’s define a legacy as a deliberate act to leave a mark or pass on an inheritance that has a practical application, differentiating that from a reputation or a memory.
A legacy handed down in the form of a purpose, a character trait, or a tradition can clearly be a powerful thing, influencing our everyday lives. Every schoolboy or girl can cite the legacy of great historical figures–George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, or Pocahontas, for instance. Their legacies transcend any generational inheritance and shape the foundation of the great American heritage. That kind of legacy can be far-reaching, even beyond those most immediately affected, the direct heirs. The idea of a heritage surpasses a legacy and grows in scope and meaning the longer it lives.
But it need not be an all-encompassing legacy at all, nothing as grand as the American heritage. The early American Puritan theologian, Jonathan Edwards, left a patrimony that is remarkable1. To the 1400 or so of his offspring traced from his death in 1758 to 1900, he left an enduring legacy of expected public service such that they contributed to society hundreds of lawyers, doctors, professors, and civic and political leaders, including over 30 judges, 3 governors, 3 senators and a Vice President of the United States. Surely that generational and familial tradition is the result of an expectation that far surpasses a monetary or property inheritance. It is an extraordinary illustration of a rigorous standard, passed on, that inspires and marks people and families. Living up to the family name can be an enormously powerful motivation. When scaled up across many families, tribes, and societies, it can forge a cultural foundation or norm.
“Odysseus inclines his head. “True. But fame is a strange thing. Some men gain glory after they die, while others fade. What is admired in one generation is abhorred in another.” He spread his broad hands. “We cannot say who will survive the holocaust of memory. Who knows?” He smiles. “Perhaps one day even I will be famous. Perhaps more famous than you.”
― Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles
Yet to many, especially in our current rootless and self-centered culture, a legacy is more related to fame than to a generational character. Fame, even more than wealth or reputation, seems to be the greater ideal. The impetus is not to live up to a legacy, or continue a tradition, it is to gain fame, to make a name, for its own sake. Many popular culture devotees—film, music, art, and fashion journeymen—seem especially driven by that desire. Consider the number of people who achieve some measure of fame, or notoriety, or celebrity, but who never really amass wealth, or who squander it when they do. Or consider those who don’t use their fame and influence to shape and motivate society toward any significant ideal or heritage, but who merely look to be seen in that society. Those fame-seekers differ vastly from the great artists and artisans we typically think of whose work, art, or craft has endured because of its quality, beauty, inspiration, and utility, and whose fame is inherent in their talent and work, and the very legacy they have left for us. The legacy of Beethoven or Michelangelo towers in importance and magnitude over that of John Lennon or Marilyn Monroe. That so many have sought fame as a legacy stands as a cautionary story. Fame is not only fleeting, but also deceitful.
The foundational ideas underlying the concept of legacy seem to be most well-laid in the Judeo-Christian ethos and the civilizational success of the western tradition. A deeper knowledge of the cultural histories of oriental, feudal, or tribal societies would clearly be needed to fully justify that statement and might well challenge my observation. To be sure, there are many examples of the passing on of power, position, and wealth among the elite classes in even those societies, but among the average citizen—the hoi polloi, so to speak—the institution of legacy appears to be much different. While passing on some small amount of money a peasant may have been able to squirrel away can be considered a bequest, it was often the passing of a defining item, for instance, a soldier’s sword in feudal Japan or Europe, or farming or craftsman tools in pre-industrial societies, that supported building a legacy or heritage in families. Those inheritances passed on the family skill or trade and the tools thereof, often giving names to families, i.e., the Smiths, the Chandlers, the Wrights.
In those societies, and notably in tribal societies, it was often the passing on of a virtue or character trait that marked a legacy. For men especially, the passing on of their devotion to concepts such as honor, loyalty, or diligence was their way to leave a mark in the world, and, for some, their role as warriors, their bravery and skill, was their contribution to society. To the extent they succeeded, they were able to pass on their legacy in the songs written of them and the stories told about them, and in the number of children they were able to sire as a result of their social standing. In those times, the great lovers were also the great fighters.
While this essay is not intended to be a lesson in the history of legacies, it is useful to understand the historical and thus, the foundational importance of it. For more discussion on that, see this article.
The development of the western and Judeo-Christian traditions advanced the concept of individual rights to hold property and to pass it on. Ancient Greek, Roman and Jewish cultures all developed not only a rich set of rules and societal norms for passing on wealth and traditions, but the expectation that one should. In countless stories, Scripture and classical literature herald the importance of landholding as the building block for the wealth of families. Even as late as the mid-twentieth century, land, especially farm land, was often passed down from father to eldest son, in order to keep familial wealth intact and not dilute it by breaking it up among siblings. The remaining children were expected to contribute labor, to purchase land of their own, often nearby and in that way extend the family wealth, or to strike out on their own as clerics, professionals, or business owners.
Civilizational and societal advances that occurred from the Middle Ages through the Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution brought great changes in individual and familial wealth, as well as bringing more advanced governmental structures. As more people had wealth to pass on and as individual property rights became much more ingrained, governments became much more interested in that wealth. In almost all the advanced nation-states, governments began some form of taxation of individual or familial inheritances, adding more complications for legacies. Interestingly, the different cultures and societies took a widely varied view of inheritances and enacted widely divergent laws and ways of taxing it. In the United States, for instance, we often argue for a tax standard that protects individual property rights and the freedom to pass on wealth as one desires, and resist an unfair taxation of assets twice, once when they are earned and another time when they are bequeathed. Other cultures and countries view things much differently, like France, which tends to discourage inheritances as an unfair advantage to the offspring of the rich, Germany, whose inheritance laws tend to encourage familial wealth over individual, or Japan, which considers it a high honor to have wealth that can be contributed to the advancement of the whole of society, through very high taxation by the state.
There is a final consideration for what is a proper view of legacy: the Scriptural view. As mentioned earlier, the Bible tells many stories of economics–of building wealth; of families and the family economy; of legacies, bequests, birthrights, blessings, and inheritances at the individual, familial, and national or societal levels. These stories are captivating; they are instructive also, as Paul tells us2, teaching us righteousness, offering us correction, and rebuking us when necessary. It is easy to cherry pick verses to shape and support our world view or our desires, but in shaping the correct view of leaving a legacy a few verses or stories stand out as particularly instructive.
Outside of the bequest of sin that Adam and Eve gave us, perhaps the first instance of someone leaving a legacy that fits our definition is in the story of Cain and Abel. In that sad story of sibling rivalry and fratricide we find two tales of legacy. Hebrew 11:4 tells us that through Abel’s righteous sacrifice, “…he being dead still speaks.” (NKJV), or “…through this act of faith he still speaks.” (AMP). By Abel’s action, we know how to give right sacrifice and worship to God. Genesis 4 chronicles Cain’s legacy. In his intimate and whole-hearted embrace of sin, in his family tradition of vengeance, and in his development of city dwelling and different tools and technologies, his legacy of self-reliance seeks to ignore our responsibilities to God and offers up no meaningful sacrifice. Both of those legacies are archetypal depictions of man’s historical and continuing choice of his relationship to the Almighty, one that we make daily.
As each of us constantly must make that choice, Scripture offers us instruction and encouragement to teach us to choose wisely, and to recognize the importance of that choice as the significant part of our own individual, familial and societal legacies. Consider these verses:
“Let this be recorded for the generation to come,
That a people yet to be created will praise the Lord.” (AMP, Psalm 102:18);
“That the generation to come might know them, that the children still to be born
May arise and recount them to their children.” (AMP, Psalm 78:6);
and
“Posterity will serve Him; They will tell of the Lord to the next generation. 31
They will come and declare His righteousness to a people yet to be born—that He has done it [and that it is finished].” (AMP, Psalm 22:30-31).
It is clear that our legacy must include instruction in righteousness for our children. Consider also Deuteronomy 11:19, “You shall teach them [diligently] to your children [impressing God’s precepts on their minds and penetrating their hearts with His truths], speaking of them when you sit in your house and when you walk along the road and when you lie down and when you rise up.” (AMP). While that biblical teaching is clear in our responsibilities, there is yet enormous societal pressure not to do so, suggesting that open-mindedness, science, or diversity of views are higher ideals.
In the Book of Proverbs, the teacher offers up observations and instruction to his son and the young men training to be leaders in Israel. One verse preachers often use when teaching their congregations about money and inheritance is Proverbs 13:22, “A good man leaves an inheritance to his children’s children, but the wealth of the sinner is stored up for the righteous.” (NKJV). While preachers often portray this verse as a rule or a command, or certainly sound instruction, it can also be an observation of God’s providence and justice. The righteous man God will bless richly, such that he is able to leave a legacy even to his grandchildren, but an evil man’s wealth will be given to someone else who is righteous, and will not be a lasting legacy for his own generations. There is a sense of cosmic justice about that.
An added instruction in the value and purpose of legacy came from the Great Teacher, Jesus Himself. In the vocabulary of modern-day child-rearing, everything for Jesus was a “teachable moment.” At the Last Supper, and in His knowledge that He was on His way to His death, Jesus left a bequest to His disciples in His last words at that Supper, one that surpasses any monetary or property inheritance. He said:
27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
28 Ye have heard how I said unto you, I go away, and come again unto you. If ye loved me, ye would rejoice, because I said, I go unto the Father: for my Father is greater than I.
29 And now I have told you before it come to pass, that, when it is come to pass, ye might believe.
30 Hereafter I will not talk much with you: for the prince of this world cometh, and hath nothing in me.
31 But that the world may know that I love the Father; and as the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. Arise, let us go hence.
John 14:27-31 (KJV)
The 3 remarkable gifts, to each one of us who are Christians, stand out as invaluable, priceless, worth more than any legacy any other person could give:
1. Peace. His peace, and given not as the world gives, in a way that can be taxed, or squandered, or used up. He gives His peace to each one of us, and it becomes a part of our soul, our character, our understanding in such a way that our hearts are not troubled and we are not afraid. Is that not priceless? Traditional inheritances of money or property also bring fears (fear of loss, for instance) and troubles, responsibilities that come with it and arise from it. His peace salves and solves our troubles and our fears.
2. That we might believe. Jesus’ words are the foundation of our faith. He told them, His disciples, in advance so that when His resurrection occurred, they would know that He is our Redeemer, He is our God. This is truth, and our belief of it is our faith. In the scriptural admonitions of teaching our children the way of the Lord as part of our legacy to them, Jesus surpassed that. He makes that truth and faith part of us, inherent in us as Christians, and so even in never completely comprehending and understanding its full meaning, still we know.
3. As the Father gave me commandment, even so I do. In Jesus’ obedience, He proved His love for the Father, not His love for us. That is not to say He does not love us; John 3:16 makes clear that God loves the world, mankind. But we prove love not by what we do for others, but in how we obey God, and in our obedience, advance His desires, His blessings, His dominion. As God is good, only good can come from our obedience to Him
Then He obeyed, unto death. “Arise, let us go hence.,” He said. And left us His legacy.
Well, how we do go on! There is much more that could be said about legacies and their importance, but we have addressed the basic questions and the ones we posed at the very beginning.
Legacies are an important tradition in our human life and cultures, and through them, we can leave a meaningful mark in the world, one with practical impact and duration. Still, not everyone does leave a legacy, even if everyone does leave a memory or a reputation, pleasant or painful, that does outlive them.
In my life, to be truthful, my own father did leave his legacy to me, one that transcends any material inheritance. He trained me in the fear and nurture of the Lord3 and gave me a foundation of faith that is real, practical and an unending source of supply in my life and the life of my family. That bequest, along with his Ruger Blackhawk .357 Magnum pistol that my brother passed to me, are among my treasured possessions.
Memories fade, fame flees, and reputations are of little consequence after death. A legacy lives on in the following generations and a bedrock of faith, a bequest of wealth or property, and a familial expectation of high moral character and action are the bounty and the burden we should aspire to pass on.
A Postscript
Some time after I wrote this essay, my daughter, Faith, gave me a letter for Father's Day:
]https://www.familylife.com/articles/topics/parenting/foundations/godly-legacy/five-essentials-to-leaving-a-legacy-that-will-outlive-you/
All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, 2 Tim 3:16 (NIV)
Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord. (Eph 6:4 NASB).