The Aroma We Leave Behind

People sometimes return to our church building who haven’t been here in years. Some of them grew up here. They were children when they walked these hallways, sat in these rooms, climbed these stairs, and worshiped in this sanctuary.

And often, when they first walk through the door, they say something interesting:

“It still smells the same.”

There is something about old buildings. They seem to have an aroma all their own. Maybe after enough years the walls, the floors, the old wood, the books, and everything else begin to hold the scents of generations.

But for the person returning, it is more than the smell of an old building.

It is the smell of memory.

They step through the door, breathe in, and suddenly they are remembering things they haven’t thought about in years. They remember people who once sat beside them. They remember Sunday school teachers and pastors. They remember Christmas programs and Vacation Bible School. They remember weddings and funerals. They remember being a child in a place where they are now standing as an adult.

Aroma has an amazing ability to do that.

Sometimes it is the fragrance of a loved one who is no longer with us. Sometimes it is the smell of a particular food cooking in the kitchen. Sometimes it is the scent of a certain flower, the ocean, freshly cut grass, an old house, or even an old church.

One breath, and suddenly we are somewhere else.

Aromas connect us to people, places, experiences, and moments in our lives.

And that raises an interesting question:

What aroma are we leaving behind?

As we move through this world, interact with people, work beside them, worship with them, disagree with them, serve them, and simply share life with them, what kind of fragrance does our life leave behind?

The Apostle Paul uses this very image when he writes:

“For we are the aroma of Christ…”
—2 Corinthians 2:15

What a beautiful way of describing the Christian life.

We are the aroma of Christ in the world.

Wherever we go, we carry a fragrance with us. We may not even be aware of it, but people experience something when they encounter us. And when we claim allegiance to Jesus, that fragrance says something about the Christ we follow.

So what do people smell when they encounter our faith?

Is there the fragrance of love?

The fragrance of mercy?

The fragrance of compassion?

The fragrance of kindness, patience, gentleness, grace, and humility?

When someone spends a few minutes with us and then walks away, is there something about that encounter that reminds them of Jesus?

Or are we giving off another aroma?

Impatience. Anger. Judgment. Intolerance. Bitterness. Arrogance. A lack of compassion. Perhaps even hatred.

We are leaving an aroma either way.

And perhaps the more important question is not simply what people experience while we are standing in front of them. It is what remains after we have gone.

Think about those people who return to the church after thirty, forty, or fifty years. They open the door, recognize that familiar aroma, and memories come rushing back.

Someday, something similar may happen with the memory of our lives.

Long after a conversation has ended, what will remain?

Long after we have left the room, what will linger?

Long after our years on this earth are finished, what will people remember when something unexpectedly brings our name to mind?

Will they remember that we loved them?

Will they remember that we were patient with them?

Will they remember that we made room for them?

Will they remember that we listened?

Will they remember mercy?

Will they remember grace?

Will they remember that somehow, when they were around us, they caught just a little fragrance of Jesus?

Buildings hold aromas. So do memories. And in a sense, so do lives.

Every day we are leaving behind a spiritual fragrance in the lives of the people around us.

So perhaps one of the questions worth carrying with us today is simply this:

What aroma am I leaving behind?

May it not simply be the aroma of our personalities, our opinions, our accomplishments, or even our religion.

May it be the aroma of Christ.

And may the fragrance that lingers after we have gone be the unmistakable fragrance of his love, his mercy, his compassion, and his grace.