What We Leave Behind

Dear Friends, 

As I sit down with a computer at hand, I find myself wondering what this fall will bring. Autumn always has a way of nudging us to notice the changes around us. The days slip away a little sooner, the air grows crisp, and before long, the trees will release what they’ve been holding onto all summer long. It feels like creation itself is whispering, inviting us to pause and ask: how are we spending the time God has placed in our hands?

Sometimes I find myself daydreaming about what our world could look like if those with the most power, wealth, and privilege cared more about leaving things better than they found them. What if having more didn’t mean building higher fences or gathering more for ourselves, but awakened a holy longing to give more away? What if we measured success not by what we could stack up, but by how many people could stand a little taller, breathe a little easier, because we were here and tried to walk in the way of Jesus?

Like many people, I have had a celebrity or two whom I have admired over the years. One of mine was Dolly Parton. She gave us beautiful music that generations will continue listening to. She gave us memorable films, an unmistakable personality, a wonderful sense of humor, and a remarkable career. But what I admired most about Dolly was not simply what she accomplished for herself. It was what she chose to do for others once she had the ability to help.

Dolly grew up as one of twelve children in a very poor family, but she often spoke of the abundance of love she experienced at home. She never seemed to forget where she came from. In 1995, inspired in part by her father, who had never learned to read and write, she created the Imagination Library. What began as an effort to give children in her Tennessee community books of their own eventually grew into an international program that has now placed more than 300 million books into the hands of children from birth to age five.

And she did not stop there. When COVID-19 frightened and disrupted the world, Dolly donated $1 million to medical research at Vanderbilt. When Hurricane Helene devastated communities in Appalachia, she personally donated another $1 million to recovery efforts, while her businesses and foundation contributed even more. Years earlier, after devastating wildfires struck her home region of East Tennessee, she helped establish a fund that put money directly into the hands of families who had lost their homes. Her foundation supported education and scholarships. Again and again, when people were hurting, Dolly seemed to ask a simple question: What can I do with what I have to help?

She was also remarkably consistent in her support of the LGBTQ+ community, even when some religious voices criticized her for it. And through all of this, Dolly never hid her Christian faith. In fact, she spoke about it openly throughout her life.

Maybe that’s what I cherished most about her.

She did not use Christianity as a weapon against people. She did not seem interested in using faith to determine who deserved dignity, compassion, or a sense of belonging. Instead, her faith appeared in generosity, kindness, acceptance, and a willingness to lift others up. She had wealth, influence, fame, and power, but she understood that those things could become tools for doing good.

Maybe that’s the gentle lesson the Holy Spirit is whispering to us as we step into this new season.

Most of us won’t have Dolly Parton’s fortune. We won’t sell millions of records or build an empire, and we may never have millions to give away. But generosity has never depended on the size of a bank account. Each of us has something to offer. We have time. We have compassion. We have voices, skills, and resources. We can notice the one who is struggling and, by the grace of God, choose to stop and see them rather than just walk past.

Scripture reminds us, “From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required.” — Luke 12:48

Maybe the real question isn’t whether we’ve been given much, but whether we have eyes to see what God has already placed right in our hands.

Our world doesn’t need more people scrambling to get ahead. It needs people who are willing to reach back and pull someone else up. It needs people who know that privilege comes with responsibility, that success can be transformed into generosity, and that faith in Christ is most beautiful when it becomes love you can see, love you can touch.

Dolly Parton will live on through the music she created, the stories she told, and the people who loved her. But she will also live on in millions of children who opened a mailbox and discovered a book with their name on it; in families who received help when disaster had taken nearly everything from them; in students who received opportunities they might not otherwise have had; and in people who heard someone of deep Christian faith tell them that they were worthy of love and acceptance.

Maybe that’s one of the greatest legacies any of us can leave behind.

Not simply that people remember our names, but that because we were here, someone else’s journey became a little easier, a little lighter.

As the leaves turn and a new season comes, may we pause and ask what we’re doing with what God has entrusted to us. May our faith in Jesus never become something we use to push people down, but something that moves us to lift others up. And when our own journey is finished, may the world be a little kinder, a little more generous, a little more loving, because we tried, in our own way, to follow Christ while we were here.

Blessings,

Rev. Gilbert