The Agony and the Ecstasy of Aging

Hilton Head Island, SC – December 8, 2024
The Chapel Without Walls
Luke 2:22-35; Ecclesiastes 12:1-10
A Sermon by John M. Miller

Text – Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come, and years draw nigh, when you say, “I have no pleasure in them.” – Ecclesiastes 12:1 (RSV)           

  

The Book of Ecclesiastes is found in that section of the Old Testament that is known as the Wisdom Literature. It consists of the books of Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Eccclesiastes, and the Song of Solomon. Ecclesiastes never appealed to me when I was young. For one thing, no one could accuse the writer of being overly  cheerful. But now that I am old, it has become one of my favorite biblical books. In Hebrew the author’s title is Koheleth, the Preacher. In the English Bible, he is called, in Greek, Ecclesiastes, “the One Who Assembles (Ideas).”

 

The last chapter, Ch. 12, was clearly written by a geezer for fellow geezers. I guess he figured that it takes one to know one. In it he uses similes to describe various body parts, all of which are experiencing the ravages of aging. He did not know what cataracts were, but he knew their effect: “The sun and light and moon and stars are darkened. The keepers of the house tremble,” [bones, especially the knees and the fingers], “the strong men are bent,” [the legs]. “The grinders cease because they are few” [teeth] “the doors on the street are shut when the grinding is low” [the ears no longer can hear clearly], “the daughters of song are brought low” [the vocal chords rasp or croak or fail altogether].

 

Parts, Parts, parts: patch, patch, patch: they once operated well, they now operate poorly, if at all. Shoulders, hips, and knees need lubrication, but none is to be found. Eyes and ears need to be revitalized, but as the years pass that seems no longer to be possible, even with glasses and hearing aids.

 

In biblical times, according to Psalm 90, old people lived to seventy or eighty. In the past decade, with the first of the baby boomers reaching 65, the percentage of the American population that age or older increased by 38.6%.  What about our parts? Will they hold up? Or will we be half-blind, three-quarters deaf, and the rest of us constantly patched up? Right now, people 75 to 85 are young-oldsters, 85-95 middle-oldsters, and 95+ old-oldsters. 

 

I have previously told you that in his old age, in order to keep his arthritic fingers nimble, my father took up needlepoint. He did a little pillow that declared, “Old Age Is Not for Sissies.” It is a common aphorism by which codgers comfort one another. A member of The Chapel, hearing that, said that her mother also needlepointed a pillow. It unabashedly proclaimed, “Screw the Golden Years.” The Preacher would highly approve of those sentiments. No gilding of the lilies for him.

 

That brings up another issue for oldsters. We tend to lose many of our inhibitions as time marches on. Living in a retirement community, Lois and I are frequently amused by how outspoken many of our neighbors are, though of course not us. They say whatever is on their minds, and when something new comes up, they are more than pleased to share it.

 

For many oldsters, memory become like Swiss cheese, except that there may be far more holes than cheese. Ordinarily, old people lose their short-term memory first. The New Yorker had a cartoon that showed a man at the lost-and-found counter of a large department store. “Has anyone turned in a pair of reading glasses?” he asks. He had looked all over the store to no avail. The reason he couldn’t find them is that they were propped up on to top of his head. Or there are the cartoon characters, Earl and Opal Pickles. Earl, the perpetual grouch, asks Opal, his long-suffering wife, “Did I have breakfast this morning?” “You don’t remember having breakfast?” “Nope.”  “I made you that big steaming bowl of oatmeal.” In the last frame Earl says, as he walks indignantly away, “Who the heck remembers oatmeal?” Or the Pickles again: Earl asks Opal, “Do we have a calendar somewhere?” “It’s right there on the wall,” says Opal, no doubt somewhat annoyed. Opal inquires of Earl, “What’s the matter?” says Opal; “You couldn’t remember what day it is?” “Nope,” says Earl; “what year it is.”

 

I am a member of the Seabrook Singers chorus. We rehearse every Wednesday morning at ten o’clock. Fortunately Lois has that more firmly in her mental calendar than I do. If I am typing something on the word processor on Wednesday morning, which is part of my usual routine, time does not exist for me, so she will remind me when the time comes. A few weeks ago on a Tuesday our director emailed all of us to say that he had a bad cold, and didn’t want to bequeath it to us, so practice the next day would be cancelled. I read emails only once a day, and I didn’t read that email until 9:45 on Wednesday, and then went back to my typing. At 9:55 my timekeeper reminded me to go to choir practice. I hurriedly grabbed my songbook and hustled to the rehearsal room. No one was there, but Colby, who also is in the choir, arrived moments after I did. She had not read the email, but I did, fifteen minutes earlier, and may as well not have. Old age is for those with Swiss cheese brains - - - whether we like it or not.

 

 There is yet another factor that for many elderly people is the greatest agony and challenge they face as they age. Its essence is captured in one word, and that word is death. In the 21st century, dying can be a terribly long and painful process, much longer and more painful than in prior centuries. The art and science of medicine had made enormous progress in sustaining life. Unfortunately, it has not eliminated all the pitfalls of dying, nor can it. If federal legislators and judges, especially the Supreme Court, had sufficient courage and compassion, they would confirm a federal law guaranteeing the right of every citizen to physician-assisted death. Given the political situation in this country, and particularly in this state, don’t hold your breath for such a reasonable solution to a rapidly growing social problem.

 

So how should we deal with this perennial dilemma? Sooner or later, the issue affects everyone, either with an elderly member of their family or they themselves. Even with all the medical options open to us, most people in underdeveloped countries will die by age sixty or so, and in developed countries by seventy or so. In adfdition, millions of people every year will reach 75, which now is “young-old,” fewer millions 85 (middle-old), and still fewer millions 95 (old-old).

 

In its kindness, “nature” will do what it will do, and the dying process for the majority of people will be relatively quick - a year or less.  A small percentage of people will live to be whatever age they live to be, and die instantaneously, never having been seriously sick a day in their lives. Some will spend years in a nursing home or an assisted living facility, physically or mentally quite impaired. The Population Division of the United Nations estimates that there are 451,000 centenarians in the world today. (How they did that I don’t know.) By 2100 they forecast there will be 25 million. (On what basis they did that I don’t know, either,) “Nature” will not be responsible for most of that increase; medical science will be. The science fiction writer Isaac Asimov said, “Death is peaceful. It’s the transition that’s troublesome.” For the great majority of us, old age is the transition between living in good health and dying either slowly or quickly.

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The “agony” part of this sermon, The Agony and the Ecstasy of Aging, is by far the longer part. Now, before all of us collapse into a lethal depression, let us turn to the “ecstasy” part. Realistically however, unless one is what Nellie Forbush in South Pacific called herself “a cockeyed optimist,” it is bound to be the shorter section.

 

As has been previously stated, a fortunate minority of people live happily and healthily until the last few days of their lives. That may happen because they eat properly, exercise, and do not smoke, drink, or do anything else in excess. On the other hand, a very small minority of nonagenarians over-eat, under-exercise, smoke, drink, eagerly engage in excess, and die instantaneously of a massive heart attack, stroke, or aortal aneurysm. Go figure.

     

The most obvious ecstasy of old age is that codgers no longer have to live by occupationally-imposed schedules. Within reason, they can do whatever they want whenever they want. I cannot validate that personally, but in less than a month I shall finally retire and ill find out for myself. I am sorry for all of you as well as for myself that I continued as a clergyman for at least a year too long, but that is not because I lacked a desire to retire. At this point I can only imagine that freedom from a required daily schedule must be one of the most liberating life experiences that enhance the lives of older people. However, through the past sixty years I have known many parishioners who regretted retirement. Unless I am incorrect, I highly doubt that I will be one of them. I believe I shall be delighted to occupy a pew for the rest of my life.

 

Secondly, most geezers have much more time to visit with family members and friends. They also might engage in more personal activities than ever before, and to engage in some entirely new activities. I also surmise that generally there is less stress in old age than in younger years - - - unless there is more stress, which I also recognize occurs for too many people, and it is because of old age, not despite it.

 

Let us now focus on having more time to visit family members. One of the joys of being a grandparent is that it often more pleasurable than being a parent. I have always envied families I’ve known where there are three or even four generations all living within very close proximity to one another. In most cases, it must be wonderful for grandparents to live in the same community as their children and grandchildren --- unless it isn’t. However, I choose to believe it is, or at least that it should be. For my entire adult life, I have lived several hundreds or thousands of miles from my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Circumstances inevitably created that situation. Having a close-knit, close-proximity, multi-generational family should be a huge benefit to all older people who have such a benefit, and I hope everyone who lives in that a blissful state realizes it.

 

Another example of ecstasy in old age for those who enjoy it is the opportunity for more travel. Having time to go places to see people or things is a great bonus of  attaining retirement and old age. Extended families who had always lived far apart can get together much more easily, and the same is true for long-distance friends. Those who have the chance to do that, are healthy enough to do it, and don’t do it have only themselves to blame.

 

Pursuing entirely new activities and experiences is another blessing for older people. The mind is a terrible thing to waste if it can be avoided, especially when oldsters have the time to avert wasting it. Keeping both body and mind active is a means of making old age better and to do so in better health.

 

A final observation about the ecstasy of advanced years is that every present day may be better than every future day. No one can ever know what obstacles lie ahead of us tomorrow. Therefore, make the most of today while you have it, because tomorrow may make the rest of your life much more difficult.

 

In His providence, God makes all of these advantages of old age possible. However, He does not force us to take advantage of any of them. Only we can do that. If we  fail to act, it is our fault, not God’s. And if we are completely unable to do any of these things, it isn’t God’s fault either. The slings and arrows that afflict us are the result of having been alive, and not the malevolence of a capricious or indifferent deity.

 

In the New Testament reading, Joseph and Mary took Jesus to the temple on his eighth day to be circumcised. Luke says there was a devout older man named Simeon. He had been patiently waiting to see the newborn Messiah for his entire long life. The narrative goes on to say that God inspired Simeon to go to the temple on that day, where he would find the newborn and his parents. When he saw the Holy Family, he took Jesus in his arms and recited a poem that God led Simeon to say. It became a hymn in the New Testament Church, and it is known in Latin as the Nunc Dimittis after its  second and third words: “Lord (Dominus), now lettest (nunc dimittis) Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy word; for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation which Thou hast prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for the glory of Thy people Israel” (Luke 2:22-35).

 

                                                              

Here is the main reason why I chose this passage for today. Simeon was an old man who had often prayed that God would allow him to see the Messiah, and it happened. Many of the things we pray for will come to pass before we die, but many others won’t. Does God determine everything? Many people believe that, and others don’t. Does God determine anything? Many people wonder if He does. In the “For-Whatever-It’s-Worth” Dept., as I grew older, I concluded that He determines little if anything. As Thomas Ernest Henley said of himself, so might it help us to say, “I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.” We have more authority over our living, our dying, and our deaths than we choose to admit. Therein lies the final agony and ecstasy of aging.