Pastors get letters from time to time, and the trick is knowing what to do about them. What’s so strange is some of the more angry ones come from people you barely even know. If you read one of them, you’d probably ask me, “What exactly did you to them to make them so angry?”
I can’t blame you if you don’t believe me when I reply, “Not one single thing!” It simply doesn’t make sense. But bitterness doesn’t need a reason.
Bitterness is an affliction much like bad knees: it often comes about when the years have begun to wear on you. Almost every one of the angry letters I’ve received were written by people with whom I never had one cross word or slighted in any way. While you don’t have to be older to be bitter, when our joints ache every time we get up and our bodies seem to be betraying us more every day, bitterness is an easy place to land..
In my experience, holding onto my joy gets tougher as I age. Cynicism is always waiting to pounce, to tell me, “I’ve seen all this before”. You begin to roll your eyes at the enthusiasm of the young, telling yourself “they’ll grow out of it”. That’s exactly what one letter-writer told me, predicting that when I’m old my passion in worship will simmer down and I’ll embrace benign resignation over a rowdy revival.
The funniest part is I’m only a few years younger than that writer! What a compliment, that they think I am so very young. If only!
Like this writer, most people think they get wiser as they age. But in truth some have only gotten weary and mistook that for wisdom. Sometimes the years merely erode our resistance to spiritual atrophy. Passage of time helps us forget those days we were hidden in the cleft of the rock and the presence of the Almighty passed by. We tell ourselves we’ve seen it all, but really we have actually just forgotten the wonders we have seen.
We are “at ease in Zion” with our unbreakable hearts of stone, thinking we are now so spiritual when we are barely still alive.
But like a couple sleeping in separate beds, the intimacy has gone out of our romance with God. Now when we see a young lover chasing after Him, we’re jealous for the passion we once had but lost. So we question the fidelity of that person’s love for God. Our spiritual apathy has made us bitter and old, maybe not physically but definitely spiritually.
I too have felt the rot of cynicism creeping slowly into my heart, and the stench of a critical spirit rising up at times from within. The disappointments and discouragements of life will do that to any of us if we’re not careful. But I’m determined with every ounce of strength, and faith I have left not to let it steal my joy. Because that’s when you truly have gotten old – when you find more joy in disapproval and in criticism than in “the joy of the Lord”!
I shall indeed “rage against the dying of the light”, as the poet said. In short, I’m refusing to get spiritually “old”. And here’s what I’ve learned watching others struggle around me, and struggling with it myself…
Old is not an age, though I’ve seen its withered face and know it all too well.
I’ve seen it holding onto bitterness and anger so long you’re convinced every smile you see is really a smirk.
I’ve seen it resenting the enthusiasm of the young, instead of letting themselves experience life anew through those young eyes.
It focuses on how quickly the sifting sands of time are running out, instead of on the opportunities Iwe still have time for.
It wallows endlessly in yesterday’s slights and oversights, when a banquet table of happy possibilities still stands before us.
I’ve heard the other voices, those yelling at us from their easy chairs on the sidelines. They say it’s only a matter of time until we curse the dawn the way you do. They warn me to keep my hands and feet inside the car on this ride, and proceed with care.
On the contrary, I will throw my hands in the air. I determine now in my last years to lean into the ebb and flow of this crazy ride we’re on.
In spite of every ache in my body, I defy your sensible shoes. I laugh at the pastel colors you demand I paint with so your eyes won’t be strained. And I call on you to leave your dimly lit monastery and join me out here in the sunlight of this life. No fair hiding your contrarianism behind a facade of spirituality, for the Bible’s wisdom encourages us to seek out the joys of life, not just to simmer in our cynicism…
“So I recommend having fun, because there is nothing better for people in this world than to eat, drink, and enjoy life. That way they will experience some happiness along with all the hard work God gives them under the sun” – Ecclesiastes 8:15 NLT
Get up and eat, and laugh, and love, and wander off on yet another adventure, my friend, while there is still time. ESPECIALLY in view of what time it is!
BUT…while we know within us the final hours are ticking away, let’s refuse to ever give the slightest attention to the clock. Let’s live life so fully, everyone around us will be stunned when we finally stop moving and die…
“What? The old man is gone? How can this be? Is the sun still in the sky? Do the planets still spin a wobbly waltz around the sun’s campfire light amidst the midnight blue of the universe?”
No, old is not an age, but merely an attitude. No aches or pains can tell you the contrary unless you choose to listen to them. So snuff out all the candles, throw away the cake, and leave the birthday wishes for fools who died years ago and only have yet to discover it.
Better to be Peter Pan, the boy who never grew old, than Captain Hook whose only joy is found in despising youth. Why live your days in fear, running from a ticking clock inside a crocodile?
Not me. I’ll take the second star to the right, straight on till morning. For I’m sure where I’m going, I’ll find my childlike wonder again. It is held safe by the One called the Ancient of Days, yet who never grows old!
