Saturday, January 17, 2009

Marks on Marble

I had the privilege a number of years ago to take a tour of the Boston Public Library. Being used to small-town or mid-sized libraries, I was greatly impressed by this largest of municipal public libraries in the U.S. There was a lot to impress me: books, of course, some of the more than six million; rare books and manuscripts, including volumes from John Adams' personal library, with marginal notes in his own handwriting; sculptures and murals and chiseled inscriptions; high arched windows with hundreds of panes; and the great reading room with its huge barrel-vaulted ceiling, making the vast, hushed space feel more like a basilica than a library.

But the most memorable thing I saw was the depressions on the beautiful steps of The Main Staircase. Footsteps for more than a century have worn concaves into the ivory gray French marble. With my own feet, I could feel the cupping of those stair treads, and I wondered with awe how many millions of visitors had traveled that stairway, their accumulated weight wearing away the hard stone.

Thoughts and words and actions are like that. A person may not intend to become greedy or lustful. He/she would probably never plan to be unfaithful or to become a liar or a thief or an abuser. But like the millions of footsteps that made hollows in the marble steps, little things repeated over and over again effect a change. People who have acted selfishly all their lives do not even realize how unlovely (and unlovable) they really are. People who ignore or despise truth may come to a place of deception where they do not even recognize truth. Those who lie or cheat habitually or abandon their commitments may eventually think that individual integrity is hardly significant.

I'm not implying that God cannot or does not change people. He can and He does. But a lifetime of little thoughts and words and actions leaves marks that may well be permanent. If they can be eradicated, it may take rigorous personal attention and effort. A saying of uncertain origin, common in the nineteenth century, warns, "We sow a thought and reap an act; we sow an act and reap a habit; we sow a habit and reap a character; we sow a character and reap a destiny."

We are making our marks on marble.

MaryMartha
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Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

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