Liturgy

When we hear the word "legacy," many of us think of it a bit like an inheritance: a possession of sorts, to be handed down to generations to come. But legacy is most powerful when we consider it as something truly larger than ourselves, as a chain in which we are only a single link. A beautiful visual image of this comes from Ohio farm country, which boasts over 65 farms that are over 200 years old.

While in many parts of the world a couple centuries is just a drop in the bucket, it's more than enough time for families working the land to have a rich sense of legacy, responsibility, and a sense of being something bigger than their own profit or immediate gain. One of the owners of an Ohio bicentennial farm was proud to declare, "We don't use any antibiotics or hormones, so we make it as healthy as possible … It gives you a sense of pride when a customer comes back to you and says, 'That was the best ground beef I ever had.'"

Possible Preaching Angle:

In our culture—so consumed by the new and the now—how can we retain a sense of deep legacy? Maybe we can learn something from some old farmland in Ohio … and apply it to passing on the ancient teachings and traditions of our faith, so much bigger than any one of us.