Growing Old

As Floyd the Barber used to say that Calvin Coolidge used to say, “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” On the other hand, everybody talks about growing old, and everybody vainly tries to do something about it. We live in a culture that is obsessed with youth. Our heroes are athletes who are all stalked by age, whose time in the 40 yard dash is unbeatable. They are movie stars who learn that the more lines they have on their faces the fewer lines they’ll have in their movies. Like our heroes, we spend fortunes trying to hold on to our youth. Alas, it is quicksilver.

The Bible takes a more nuanced perspective. It acknowledges that there are good things that come along with youth. It affirms the blessings of vigor, the strength of strength. These kinds of blessings diminish over time, as a general rule. We grow weary faster. Pain becomes a frequent guest that overstays its welcome. Soft chairs, no matter how comfortable, become quicksand. Memory becomes increasingly fickle and flighty.

The nuance, however, comes in that the Bible acknowledges also the blessings of aging. Aging isn’t merely the diminishment of various gifts of God, but the exchanging of some gifts for other gifts, each perfect in its time. The Bible affirms that age has a common fellow-traveler in wisdom. And wisdom, we learn as we grow older, is really, really good. Something we’re supposed to cherish, pursue, hold on to. Wisdom, we’re told, is even greater than gold. Walking alongside the wisdom that tends to walk alongside aging is respect. While our broader culture in embracing youth has a concomitant rejection of the honor that comes with the hoary head, such should not be the case among believers.

It’s all too easy for us to think the grass is greener on the other side. As young people we long to be taken seriously, to have our ideas valued. We buck against the notion that we are little more than pack mules. As older people we long to have the energy to be pack mules, to be seen as virile. We give our “organ recitals” wherein when we meet together we list all our aches and pains.

The greater biblical truth is this- every day we grow closer to both goods. That is, there is coming a day when I will not only have no sickness, but no pain. I will have a body that isn’t merely disease resistant but incorruptible. There is, in turn, coming a day when every bit of folly I retain will be cut off. My tongue will speak nothing but wisdom. And every day that passes brings me, us, one day closer to those sureties. Every day, every age is a good one when we are under the care of the Ancient of Days. Every day and every age then is a good one to give thanks.