Compared to the number of people who have lived and died in recorded history, precious few names have been preserved.  Nearly all of the well-known names of our time will be rapidly forgotten when the next generation of the rich and (in)famous replace them.

It’s a cruel irony when a name so revered and extolled in one generation becomes a virtual nobody in the next.  After death, well-known people rapidly move from the catalogue of “who’s who” to the list of “who’s that?”

If you need any proof, let me give you a list of people who were once considered famous and important.  Nils Bohlin, Philo Farsworth, Maurice Hilleman, Witold Pilecki, Gavrilo Princep, James Harrison, and Henrietta Lacks.  These names were not concocted—look them up if you want.  They were all important figures in the last century, and the last time I checked, one is still alive today.

Truth be told, most of us live our lives in a desperate and futile attempt to be revered and remembered by those who come after us.  We want an enduring memorial, an unfading plaque, an indestructible stone statue.  Or we convince ourselves that we will somehow live forever through our progeny.

And here is my confession: I know virtually nothing about even my recent ancestors.  While my grandfather worked hard to catalogue his family tree, as I looked at the yellowing pages of the booklet he created, they were little more than names on a page.  And in a few short years, I, also, will only be a name on a page—but only if someone cares enough to become a family historian and record it in a genealogy.

If history tells us anything, it confronts us with reality that our lives are not only fleeting; they are also forgettable.   As such, it is extremely likely that no one will know or remember anything about me (or you) just two or three generations from now.  People move on with their lives and mostly share their own stories with their immediate family and friends.  The vast majority of who we are and were, and what we do and did, will vanish completely in the relentless mists of time.

The Bible speaks to this reality in a variety of ways.  Psalm 90:10 warns us that “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.”  Ecclesiastes 12:1-7 reminds us to “remember also your Creator in the days of your youth,” before it’s too late and we can no longer see well, work well, eat well, hear well, walk well, or sleep well.  And Psalm 103:15-16, tells us that a person’s “days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.”

Let that sink in for a moment: “It is gone, and its place knows it no more.”  Yes.  We will all be forgotten.

But before we get too dismayed or discouraged about the raw reality of our fleeting and forgettable lives, let me be crystal clear: Just as it says in Psalm 90:12, this is not intended to be depressive so much as it is meant to make us wisely realistic.  Of course, if we believed like the materialist that this life is all that matters and all that anyone lives for, we would have good reason to despair.  If there is no one and nothing beyond this life, we are fooling ourselves if our life’s goal is to make a name for ourselves, to leave behind memorials, houses, lands, big bank accounts, and a lengthy list of descendants.  As Ecclesiastes 12:8 pointedly says to all who give their lives to such vain pursuits: “Meaningless!  Meaningless!” says the Teacher.  “Everything is meaningless!”

But in magnificent and glorious contrast, the message of the gospel is equally clear.  Our lives, though fully forgotten by those who come after us in this life, still matter and have meaning to God.  He never forgets, and if we trust in Jesus, He will gather us to Himself when our momentary lives are over.  We will not only be remembered (Psalm 105:8), we will be embraced (Luke 15:20), celebrated (Luke 15:23), commended (Matthew 25:21, 23), and completely known in love for all eternity (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Again, let that really sink in for a moment.  If we know Jesus, the God of the universe knows us, loves us, and remembers us and will continue to do so forever and ever.  Herein lies our unwavering purpose, undeserved wonder, and unending hope.