In memory that which once existed only as possibility is frozen. It becomes a joy or a burden, or, more often, a bit of both. What it is not any longer is possibility. All that remains to you is to, somehow, reconcile yourself to that which has gone beyond the possibility of change. Something like this was the point that Sheldon Vanauken was making when he said in a letter to C. S. Lewis, written after his wife Davy's early death, that "the manuscript of our love has gone safe to the printer." With Davy's death, the possibilities that existed for their life together came to an end. That was a pain, of course, for what was lost, but it also meant that the memory of it in its fulness now existed in a kind of safety, beyond the ability of either of them to mar.
These were the thoughts I had last week while attending the 2025 Gospel Coalition conference in Indianapolis. Two of TGC's founders, of course, are no longer involved in the work—D. A. Carson because of health reasons and Tim Keller because he has gone to his rest. The third founder, John Piper, now nearly 80, continues to speak (and, if his quip about AI at the end of his keynote is any measure, still has his fastball). But even for Piper, much of the work he will do I suspect he has done. And as I thought about these things while attending the conference, the overwhelming sense I had throughout was a feeling of profound gratitude.
I have not known Drs. Piper or Carson at all, and only knew Tim in his final years. But what is so striking as I consider their work now is the fixedness of it and what, to borrow from Eugene Peterson, that long obedience in the same direction has become as that obedience consists more in the memory than it does in the present. The long obedience in the present is a struggle, it is toil and often thankless toil. It is difficult; it complicates one's life by placing demands on a person that would not be there otherwise and which others do not feel.
Yet in memory that same long obedience, which was often pain and toil and difficulty in the living of it, is transformed into joy. The joy is partially a product of simply being able to behold the full scope of one's work and love and care stretched across time and to be able to see that at least parts of it have not been in vain. More, however, I think it is a joy at beholding the faithfulness of God over time—to have lived long enough to have seen God's faithful care in one's own life is, I think, to be able to rest more confidently in that joy as one lives forward.
Dr. Ligon Duncan made a similar remark in one of the sessions. When asked about the impact of The Gospel Coalition's ministry on his own life, Duncan immediately turned to his friendship with Tim and the significance of watching Tim die well and the wisdom he gained from listening to Tim in his final days. Once Tim asked him how old he was. Duncan replied and said 62, if I'm recalling correctly, to which Tim said, "Do not assume you have more time." Reflecting on Keller, Carson, and Piper's life, it strikes me that each of them has sought to live each day as if they knew they were not promised more time, and so resolved to follow God on that day, whatever else might happen.
Indeed, when I consider Tim's last public words, it strikes me that a disregard with building up the self and a whole-hearted following of Jesus was the heart of his entire life and ministry:
Others will talk about how many people there were at TGC last week or what was said in a breakout session or what conversations were provoked by a keynote. (I'll be thinking about Andrew Wilson's for awhile, for what that's worth.)
But the thing that was most tangible to me was the continued joy in the gospel imparted to TGC by its founders, Tim and Dr. Carson, and how that has continued to pervade the organization even as both of those men are no longer actively involved in its ministry. The men who began TGC are no longer the men leading it, nor are they the men writing the books that everyone is now reading and discussing. They are not the men who are simply holding the center within the broader American church for the good of both church and culture.
That work is being passed on now. And whether those of us who remain will be able to follow Christ as faithfully or commend him to others as powerfully is an open question. "Who can say?" as Aragorn remarked when challenged by Boromir as to whether he had the strength of his ancestors. Who can say, indeed.
And yet this, at least, I think we can say: The long obedience of Tim and Drs. Carson and Piper has not been in vain, nor has it been without fruit. The manuscript is, for Tim at least, safe with the printer, as Vanauken would say. But if that obedience has not been in vain, if the manuscript has gone safely to press, the reason for that is not because of anything in those men, but because of the Christ that they have followed. And in that there is some hope for those of us left to follow, with far less talent, in their way: for the thing that enabled their work and held them to the path was not ultimately anything in them, but the grace of God given to them through Christ. In other words, the thing that enabled their fidelity is just as available to us as it was to them. And if we would persist in following Christ, then what else comes is of little import comparatively, for as long as Christ is honored, all shall be well.
Seek great things for thyself? Seek them not. May we learn from the examples of our fathers who sought the great things of God, not great things for themselves.
Jake Meador
Jake Meador is the editor-in-chief of Mere Orthodoxy. His writing has appeared in The Atlantic, Commonweal, First Things, Books & Culture, National Review, Comment, Books & Culture, and Christianity Today. He is a contributing editor with Plough and a contributing writer at the Dispatch. He lives in his hometown of Lincoln, NE with his wife and four children.
