Tuesday, November 14, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Learning to live in the second half
God formed man to be imperishable; in the image of his own nature he made them. But by the envy of the Devil, death entered the world, and they who are in possession experience it.
Richard Rohr describes the second half of our lives as “falling upward.” We don’t die, exactly. We leave our earthly ambitions behind, and as we grow accustomed to this strange new country, we find the consequent quiet … peaceful.
This is God for us. We are not so anxious, no longer waiting for a “rebirth of wonder,” as the poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti described. Our rebirth no longer comes from the outside, but from within. Where Jesus lives. In my heart. The Sunday School rhyme at last makes sense.
This does not happen to everyone. Erik Erikson’s understanding of the final stage of life pits integrity and despair. We build a container in our earlier years, and we hope it will be strong and flexible.
Then we are able to ‘‘contain’’ more and more truth, more and more neighbors, more and broader vision, more and more of a mysterious and outpouring God. On the other hand, we do not have strong and final opinions about everything, every event, or most people. We no longer need to change or adjust other people to be happy ourselves. Instead we simply allow things and people to delight us, sadden us, and truly influence us.
God intends for us to get there. We really have no place else to go. What we thought would satisfy us (in my case a new TV, in Miles’ case, countless lego sets, in your case, what?) did not, and does not, and will not make us happy. As David Steindl-Rast says, a Swiss monk who loved playing with English, his new second language, happiness does not make us grateful. No, gratitude makes us happy.
The souls of the just are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. Their passing away was thought an affliction. But they are in peace.
A couple years ago when she was still with us, Mom liked to go to Imo’s on Woodlawn Rd in Lincoln, Illinois for prime rib and a baked potato on Saturday at lunch. Baked potatoes weren’t available till 4 pm, but Imo made an exception for Mom. She loved the rich brown sauce above the prime rib, but that potato was her prize. Melted butter, sour cream, and those smiles from April, our server, and Imo, her somehow adopted son from Greece.
Those friendly folks are still there, aging slowly. Dad died in 2002, Mom in 2021. For those 20 years while she was alone she cared for several other aging people and certainly cared for her kids as much as we took care of her. Her smile when I walked in the door seemed unending. Mom spent a long time in her “second half.”
How did she live? Rohr puts it this way.
Her desire was to give back to the world a bit of what she had received. She had been freely given TO. Now she tried to live simply so that others could simply live.
(Wisdom 2, Psalm 34, John 14, Luke 17)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#
