stretching it out
“So teach us to number our days?, that we may get a heart of wisdom.” –Psalm 90:12
This is going to be a little scattered. Bear with me. These thoughts are still sifting out in my brain.
American evangelist Billy Graham gave a fascinating interview to Newsweek in August 2006 about a myriad of personal topics, but a lot of it was reflection on growing older. In particular, he said, “I have a certainty about eternity that is a wonderful thing, and I thank God for giving me that certainty. I do not fear death. I may fear a little bit about the process, but not death itself, because I think the moment that my spirit leaves this body, I will be in the presence of the Lord.”
I found it interesting that he was more at ease with death than with the dying process. While many haven’t articulated it like he has, I bet that resonates with a lot of people.
The Bible discusses death. That’s an understatement. It’s all over the place. But the process of aging, of dying is not as easy to deduce. I confess that as a young man in good health, I cannot empathize with this reality at all. It’s not my time, or at least I don’t think it is. But I think of my grandfather, who is 82 years old. It seems like he is going to funerals all the time of longtime friends of his, friends from high school or college. That’s a lot of death, a lot of watching people slip and pass away.
When I consider how I want to be when I am much older, sadly one of the first thoughts I have is how I will look. But anecdotal observation tells me that old people don’t have total control over that. Skin wrinkles where it wrinkles. Hairlines recede as preordained. People put on weight and walk slower regardless. It’s not totally within our control.
The Bible places an emphasis on the same thing regardless of age: a person’s standing to God and the condition of their soul. Hearts of wisdom seems to come with numbering the days, the psalmist says. And Proverbs says that revering God is the beginning of wisdom. Wisdom — not in knowing a bunch of facts about how to live a smart life and where to get a decent oil change — but in knowing what’s most important in life.
And those are the types of older people to which we are drawn. The author of Tuesdays With Morrie found this out, incidentally. The ones that teem with knowing the right stuff, that have aged well. They truly know that appearance can’t matter, but one’s heart condition and wisdom is what counts. My grandparents both became followers of Jesus within the past few years. And even at their age, when they are so set in their ways, we can notice changes. Their hearts are softer, my grandfather in particular. It’s incredible.
How would you like to age well? What does that mean for you anyway? What do you think matters most for being someone that has “aged well”? If you have a favorite Bible verse, how do you think being 80 years old might impact how it means to you? What do you fear about aging?
Thanks for bearing with these scattered thoughts. I look forward to your responses.
Posts
John Donne wrote some brilliant metaphysical poetry wrestling with the big question of salvation back in the 16th and 17th centuries. In a series of holy sonnets, there is one, specifically, where he gives a divine command to death, and orders it to “bee not proude.” I’m going to post it here:
Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better than thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
Reading that poem really brought me to a place of peace regarding death. Donne was preparing to be a priest, and these sonnets were an exploration of his questions surrounding salvation. He believed whole-heartedly in Christ and Christian ideas, but he struggled non-stop with the concept of salvation and how a human can be granted salvation.
This poem illuminates a narrative struggle wherein the narrator starts with a simple but bold statement. It seems at first to be about animals and objects but soon the narrator grows bolder and says you cannot kill man: not really. It seems like he is at first talking in a metaphorical sense. Though one man dies, others will go on forever. But soon it takes on a literal meaning, and this is the crux of Donne’s work: he approaches every poem like a vast, impossible, riddle that the reader can never really solve, and it is not until you give into the impossibility of a solution that a solution presents itself: it is possible because it is impossible and that is what makes it holy.
Sooo….that was a diatribe, but, for me, it perfectly sums up the concept of faith. and the last two lines of the poem are KILLER. (ha…ha…?)
Don’t be proud death. you’ll think you won, but, really, in killing me, you’ve killed yourself.
As the son of a funeral director, I think our society has artificially sanctioned itself off from the reality of death. This starts with our tendancy to overuse of nursing homes, and carries through with the way we sterilize most funeral services of evil and pain. We won’t have the wisdom to live until we face the reality of death.
That being said, my intention is not to be trite with those who have lost a loved one, grief of a great loss is a terrible thing. But the truth life is dangerous and tragic, and if we don’t understand that, we will never be able to fully mourn loss nor fully celebrate reasons for joy and hope.