Gifts of Scarcity
One theme of this blog is that the great value of mortality and the body is opportunity cost. It is the great gift of being able to do things, which also means the great gift of not being able to do other things because of the one thing you are doing. We don’t normally think this way, but it is true that every time you do something you are sacrificing a million different actions that you could be doing but aren’t; in fact, literally sacrificing an infinite number of possible actions. The limits of mortality make each action of yours extremely valuable. And that, for an immortal spirit, is a desirable thing.
Some economists point out that in some situations scarcity is a good thing. It increases the value of the scarce good.
You have perhaps 70 years of mortality as compared to the forever of immortality. This time is infinitely precious (which is one reason why even believers are right to fear and avoid death).
A child is gestated and dies in the womb. That means that experience of just being, of just existing in rhythm with its mother, is one unique experience which compared to forever is infinitely precious. The person will never have that experience again.
The usual thrust of this line of thinking is to deplore how much you are wasting your time on frivolity. And, sure, be sure to improve the shining moment.
But I would like to look at it a different way. Because your mortal time is infinitely precious, the most valuable thing you as a divine being will ever have to spend, you are every day engaged in acts of wild generosity. If you read some pulpy genre novel for a few hours, you have conferred an immortal boon on the author, you have lavished on him generosity beyond the human scale.
By writing this, I have poured out infinite profligate gifts on you to a height that only a god can conceive. By reading it, you have reciprocated at that same princely divine level. Here I give you the the jewels of the Orient, which we call time. You respond with peacocks and ivories, also called time. We don’t know what we do now. But when we are grown, we will appreciate how greatly we have gifted each other.
There is a connection or metaphor to the atonement here. I am groping for it. Perhaps a Jordan Petersen type would better be able to explain.
In the atonement, my solitary mortal acts require an infinite sacrifice on the part of a God. And the whole thing is an act of grace.
Anyway, these are my thoughts. I feel God saying, ‘how nice. What is it supposed to be? Oh, ponderings on the nature of mortality and eternity and the atonement? Of course that’s what it is, very nice. I will hang it on my fridge.’
Rozy
August 3, 2023
I felt this strongly when I had our last two children. I really thought our fourth was the last and I was determined to enjoy every moment of him being a baby and not hurry through that time. Then, I knew there was another baby waiting and when he was born I did the same thing. I think I spent more cuddle time with those two than the other three. I cherish those memories now that they are grown, but more so because our fourth child (third son) left us in April, taking his own life. I’m really grateful for all the time I neglected other things and spent with him through the years. What I have learned is that when you have to choose between anything else and relationships, choose relationships because they are eternal, all the rest, as we’re told in Ecclesiastes, is just vanity.
E.C.
August 3, 2023
Given that I’m reading this while stuck inside due to a (blessed! prayed-for! delighted-in!) rainstorm, instead of doing the hundred tasks that I feel I should spend my time on, the sentiment you express is apropos.
One thing my parents have never come to agreement on is how to spend time. My dad is in a constant state of busy-ness, flitting from one project to the next without giving himself any time to rest, relax, and look with wonder on the world. My mother errs perhaps slightly too far in the other direction. I try to balance between the two extremes, but of course it’s an impossible balancing act.
Perhaps what you are groping for is the idea that the Christ had infinite time, but He cut it short, a gift we can scarcely comprehend, in order to give us the gift of Eternity, due to the specific act of dying, which thing He did not have to do (though of course He had promised to), and the greater mystery of the Resurrection? That’s what came to mind for me, anyway.