Growing Grey

Pastor’s Epistle—January, A.D. 2019 C

The passage of time grows progressively more surreal as I age.

This past year was my 20th high school reunion. I didn’t go. There wasn’t time, and to be honest, I mostly keep in touch already with those few old classmates with whom I’d want to spend much time. With a graduating class of over 500, chances are that I wouldn’t even know most of the people who bothered to show up. And, speaking somewhat cynically, what are the odds that I would even like the ones who did?

Even so, I remember 20th class reunions being a big deal for other people, a significant milestone along the path of life. And we’ve had plenty of those lately. Our kids are all three in school this year. My beard keeps developing new streaks of grey. And this November I’ll hit 40, which will officially put me beyond the halfway point of average American life expectancy. It’s all downhill from here, I suppose.

Not that there isn’t plenty to look forward to. Statistically speaking, folks in their 30s and 40s are at their peak levels of stress, while those in their 50s and 60s report being generally much happier. I for one keep hoping for the day when I’ll be able to read like I could as a kid; which is to say, as much as I wanted, whenever I wanted. Perhaps those days are gone for good, but hope springs eternal. I know some older folks who get through more books in a week than I can manage in a month.

My point is this: Americans have almost as much trouble talking about aging as we have trouble talking about death. We tend to ignore it, and powerful market forces encourage us to do so. You can be young forever, the commercials tell us, or at least you’ll be able to fake it. Aging is consumerism’s Achilles heel. Major milestones in life, big round-numbered birthdays, cause us to grow introspective, to take stock of what we’ve accomplished, and of how we might best use the years and the decades left to us. And the answers to those questions—the real questions—are rarely, “I should buy more stuff.”

Aging is a gift. No, really. It helps us to focus on the endgame. It forces us to make adult decisions: what to give up, what to keep, on what we want to focus, what to strive for, and perhaps most importantly what we hope to leave behind. As Christians we believe that death is not the end, that we are promised resurrection and eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. This allows us to cherish the blessings of life without despairing of the end.

Yes, we will die. And yes, our story will continue. So we really ought to keep all the worries and the cares and the responsibilities and the relationships of this life all in perspective. Our struggles and our sufferings will one day pass away. But the people whom we love and the truths that we cherish never truly will.

Wouldn’t it be awful to be young forever, the world being as it is? Never tempering the frenetic passions of youth, never sacrificing to build a family or a community or anything worthwhile, never being able to look beyond the horizon of the now? Tedious doesn’t begin to describe it. We need new horizons over which to fly. We need new worlds in which to explore. This one is good for a century or so. But then it’s time to move on, time to graduate to a deeper reality. I often look at little children and feel as though we are two ships passing in the night: the beginning of their world being the midway point of mine.

So here’s to those of you who think that 40 is way too old, and to those who think it way too young. May we enjoy every leg of the journey, knowing full well that while hardship meets us in various guises throughout each stage of life, nevertheless the goal is worthy and our homecoming assured. Let us then be Christ for each other in whatever time that we are given.

In Jesus. Amen.