Legacy

If you’re ever going to a new place, you’ve probably turned to Google or Chat GPT and said some version of, “Tell me about _______.” San Francisco or Cuba or the best bone fishing spots (just me?) or whatever. You’re not looking for a deep dive. A deep dive can always follow if there is interest. Quite the opposite. Give me the big ideas, the things not to miss, a quick snapshot. It’s a primer. I’m taking that primer idea to a series of practical theological topics over the summer. No dissertation here. Just a Biblical door opening on a few different themes that touch our life and work. Enjoy. View the other primers here. 

About 35 minutes from my house, there’s a quiet, residential street with a non-descript municipal cemetery. There’s a number of family burial plots inside stretching back to the 19^th century.

Wander around for a bit, and you may come across one that’s easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it. It’s not particularly large. Not particularly fancy. But the simple inscription reads:

“Recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom”

The tombstone marks the grave of Wal-Mart founder Sam Walton. Maybe you’ve heard of him.

Consummate innovator

Shrewd competitor

Maverick merchant

Legendary motivator

And today, 35 years after his death, Wal-Mart is still going strong. $681 billion in revenue in 2025. They’re squeaking by. 

The tombstone doesn’t talk about rollback pricing system or the ingenious merchandise replenishment system, though. Nothing about being named Man of the Year or CEO of the Year. It says that he received the Medal of Freedom because he was “a devoted family man, business leader and statesman for democracy” who “embodies the entrepreneurial spirit and epitomizes the American dream.”

That’s supposedly his legacy.

Epitaphs are interesting like that. They try to sum up legacy quickly. Like these: 

• “Author of the Declaration of Independence and of the Statute of Virginia for religious freedom and Father of the University of Virginia (Thomas Jefferson)
• “3.14159265358979323846264338327950288” (Ludolph van Ceulen, calculator of Pi)
• “Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, I’m free at last.” (Martin Luther King, Jr.)

From God’s viewpoint, however, epitaphs (and the legacies they represent) look quite different. He doesn't look at our lives and legacies through rose-colored glasses. He sees it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly. So from a heavenly perspective, we don’t choose our epitaphs from a book of favorite quotes; they are determined by how we live our lives.

While the words “epitaph” and “legacy” don’t appear in the Bible, the concept is evident throughout Scripture, particularly in the historical record of the Old Testament kings. The Old Testament books of Samuel, Kings and Chronicles all track the activities of the nations of Israel and Judah over several centuries and the three dozen or so kings that led both nations.

Every king was a mixture of good and bad, but in God’s eyes, the legacies left by the kings was either good or evil. The record of each generation opens and closes with a statement like this:

“_________ did evil because he had not set his heart on seeking the Lord.” Or “__________ trusted in the Lord. There was no one like him in all the kings of Israel.”

This pattern, repeated dozens of times is shockingly stark. The eternal epitaph is evaluated on a single criterion: In all aspects of life—work, family, faith, finances, etc.—did he do what was right in the eyes of God, or did he do evil in the eyes of God?

Although today’s fast-paced business world may seem far removed, think of it as a study in legacy. All of us are navigating and creating a legacy. From the CEO struggling to rebuild a company in the wake of an ethics scandal to the middle manager trying to develop a reputable department. From the parent trying to parent differently than her own parents to the young woman inheriting a family business (and a ton of pressure).

We all are receivers, and we all are passing on.

So, with that in mind and with the Old Testament kings in view, here are lessons on legacy:

1. A good legacy is a personal choice.

The fact that our predecessor left a good legacy does not guarantee that we will do the same. It comes down to personal choice.

Take Hezekiah and Manasseh. The father (Hezekiah) got wholehearted praise in the pages of Scripture. The son got the greatest condemnation.

It’s not that Manasseh didn’t know. He simply chose to go a different direction.

Of course, while any one person can lose a good legacy, it’s also true that any one person can break a bad cycle. Just two generations after Manasseh, a new king, Josiah, arises—tearing down the idol worship, leading well. No doubt these steps required difficult personal decisions and difficult personnel decisions, but setting a good legacy demands some of these good choices.

 2. Pride is a roadblock to a good legacy.

Scripture is honest about the mixed bag of legacy you get with many of these kings, and at times, it will, like a superhero origin story, give you the fatal flaw: pride.

Uzziah reigned for 52 years and did lots of good. He fortified Jerusalem and brought prosperity to the people. He had long stretches of spiritual integrity as well.

But as Uzziah’s confidence grew and his fame spread, he lost his focus. In the words of Chuck Swindoll, “In his stupid pride, Uzziah began to believe in himself rather than in God.” He even went to the extreme of taking over the priests’ job, marching into the temple as if he didn’t need help. God struck him with leprosy.

What a sad finale. What a familiar pattern. The best way to spoil a good legacy is to allow pride to gain a foothold.

 3. Legacy is a collaborative project.

Relationships can make or break a legacy.

Jehoram, king of Judah, marries into the family of Ahab, perhaps the most wicked king of the northern kingdom of Israel, and eight years later, “He passed away to no one’s regret.” Morally speaking, he allied himself with the wrong family.

Joash ascended to the throne as a boy with a priestly advisor named Jehoiada. And “Joash did what was right in the eyes of the Lord all the years of Jehoiada the priest.” (2 Chronicles 24:2). But when Jehoiada dies, Joash replaces him with other officials that lead him astray.

Want a legacy? Look at who you surround yourself with. Be a listener (unlike the earlier king, Rehoboam) and, more importantly, be a listener to the right people. People with wisdom, people with integrity, people who will say no to you when needed.

4. To leave a good legacy, live life today.

We are called to live life today, not to dream about how history will portray us.

Consider the best-known king, David. Acts 13 writes David’s epitaph this way,

“For when David had served God’s purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep; he was buried with his fathers and his body decayed.”

David served God while he was alive, and then he was gone.

Not that David didn’t have a reason to think about posterity. He’d been given a promise from God himself about his descendants. If there was anyone who had the right to think about legacy, it was him. But the language is still, “He served God’s purpose in his generation.” 

This is the caveat on all this talk of legacy and thinking about future generations. Don’t forget to live life today.

5. Don’t forget Manasseh.

Wonder if you’ve already screwed up your legacy? Remember Manasseh. The worst of the worst kings. 55 years of wicked reign.

But Scripture gives us this little nugget at the end of his life: 

In his distress [Manasseh] humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers. And when he prayed to Him, the Lord was moved by his entreaty and listened to his plea; so He brought him back to Jerusalem and to his kingdom.” (2 Chronicles 33:12-13) 

I don’t know that they put this on his tombstone. And his legacy wasn’t a good one in Israel. But his story wasn’t over. And neither was the story of God’s people. I have told my children since they were little (and now grand children) – “It is never too late to make a right decision.” Manasseh’s worst efforts couldn’t ruin God’s work in his people, and his worst efforts didn’t move him beyond God’s rescue.

Because the one who writes our ultimate epitaph is in fact the master weaver. Our legacy may be tarnished, but His isn’t. Praise God.