The Regent
Summer 2011, Volume 23, Number 2
A TIME FOR BLESSING
Maxine Hancock
I
n Robert Browning’s poem “Rabbi Ben Ezra,” the Rabbi may sound just a little too cheerful when he opens his monologue with the exclamation, “Grow old along with me! / The best is yet to be …” But surely he is at least on the right track when he argues that old age is a part of the Creator’s design for a life. He pictures God as a Master Potter, carefully shaping a chalice worthy to bear a life that is, finally, to be offered as a libation to God. In today’s culture, where a person’s worth is too often measured by economic or aesthetic criteria, we need desperately to recover at least a glimpse of such confidence. With a rapidly-growing aging population, we need to enunciate a truly biblical, deeply Christian response to the last years of life. Having walked with my in-laws and my own parents through their long years of decline—they all died at close to ninety years of age—I am under no illusions about old age being “golden years” or death being “the final stage of growth.” But I also have had the privilege of watching people whose long habits of spiritual discipline and personal devotion taught them to accept infirmity with patience and care with gratitude. Even those who
experienced dementia retained a core identity grounded in Christ; they met death at peace and unafraid. So fortified, I face the challenge of being both truthful and hopeful as I now near the invisible dividing line of “three-score years and ten.” Let us re-title these last chapters of life as “A Time for Blessing.” We who follow Jesus as Lord have been drawn by the Spirit of God into Christ’s risen, unending life, with resources for both our “mortal bodies” and, ultimately, our resurrection (Romans 8). We have also become heirs of the patriarchs, who offer us models of late-life blessing. We see, for example, Abraham blessing his sons, and Jacob—after a lifetime of wrestling for the blessing—passing that blessing on to his. Blessing, like charity, begins at home, as we grow in love for those closest to us, a love that goes that distance, stretching around loss and change. We extend that blessing to our children or godchildren or spiritual children, and to their children. We seek ways to transmit the legacy of the knowledge of the Scriptures to another generation. My memories are full of daily reading of the Scriptures around the table after evening meals; of Sunday dinners with lively conversations about the themes of the morning’s sermon (and yes—analysis of exegesis and performance, too). It is, however, a huge challenge to find ways to keep such knowledge alive in an age in which the lives of even very young children are dominated by electronic games and
digital technology. Creative thought has to be given and occasions deliberately created if the Great Story is to be shared with another generation. Martha Zimmerman’s book, Celebrating Biblical Feasts (Bethany House, 2004) provides a set of templates that can be turned into events at home or church. Acting on the suggestion of a Regent spouse, I have shared the beautifully illustrated Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally LloydJones (Zondervan, 2007) with all of our grand-families. There is a blessing, too, for us to give by simply becoming “alongsiders” to the generations that follow us: affirming seekers or beginners in the faith; encouraging new parents; mentoring people starting out in careers we have completed. While advice—especially if unsought— is most likely to be rejected, and recounting our stories is probably best saved for our journals, we can offer loving listening, faithful praying, and constant encouragement. Older friends who accept and affirm young people in non-judgmental, supportive relationships, are few and dearly loved. I remember such friends from the early days of marriage and parenthood; people who treated us, across a generation or two, with loving respect, and shared their lives with us. I love them still. T here are huge hurdles, of course: children immersed in a virtual world and teens more interested in exchanges on social media than face-to-face conversations; two-career couples with barely enough time to talk with each other, continued on p.3