Old Man Hands

When does aging not matter? 

Dear God in heaven!  That’s the question to start off a conversation? What am I? Some old guy? 

Well, yes, but that doesn’t matter. It does matter, but it doesn’t. Not really. Hmmm. Better get on with it.

Only two answers are worth pursuing to the question, “When does aging not matter?”  The other answers are out of the question. Literally. I don’t have enough space to address them. They’re outside of my capabilities right now. They are not “in” this question, so they are “out” of the question. So, only two answers are worth pursuing in this space:

• When you know you are going to die.
  
• When you begin to live forever.
  

You win if you picked number two. Oh, you didn’t know this was a contest? It’s not a contest, really. It’s just that you only really win anything if you pick number two. If you pick number one you are only aware. Your awareness of dying could simply be the result of an impending suicide, a deathly illness, or being flung airborne (as in the fall won’t kill you, but the landing will). While that may actually be what you are thinking about answer number one, that’s not really what I mean. I don’t mean knowing “when” you will die. 

(One of the most annoying things in school for me was when the teacher or professor asked a question that could have 1.346 million answers, but he or she only wanted one answer. The class would go on forever trying to guess the correct answer, and finally the professor would finally say, “Well, the answer I was looking for was ….”  I may also be similarly annoying here, but since I’m giving out the two answers I want, and doing so immediately, and I have two of them (not just one), I’m not quite as annoying as I could be.)

If you chose or liked answer number one over answer number two I reiterate a clarification. The answer is not knowing “when” you are going to die (as in being airborne and about to land harder than survival will allow). The correct understanding of answer number one is simply knowing that you “are” going to die. We know we are going to die when we grasp that everyone eventually dies.

Answer number two deals with the other end of death, which Christians understand as to still be alive. I’ve eliminated all other options about the other end of death. I’m an answer number two kind of a person, since answer number one startled the bejezus out of me, over and over, and I signed up as a Christian, taking door number two.

If you don’t find this funny, yet, then it’s best that you not continue. You see, the distance between moribund and ecstatic is eternity. Eternity doubted, and eternity believed. Eternity, in fact, is the point of asking the question about aging. If the subject of aging and death makes you feel queasy, like constantly having to look at the aging spots on your hands because you spend so much time typing, then put off this discussion for when you are ready to be flippant about death. Yes, I was flippant, just then, about death. I’m ready. How about you?

So, what’s the difference of the two answers that I find worth pursuing? The first answer merely addresses our worldly reality. “Oh my God, I am going to die.” The second answer addresses cosmic, transcendent, elliptical, everlasting reality. I’m not sure what elliptical reality is, but it doesn’t sound very worldly, it’s cute, it’s shaped like eternity (if eternity had a shape), and that’s what I’m trying to get at.

At first blush (and I’m constantly blushing now, due to my old man hands), the second answer might seem to imply that you begin to live forever when you die. Meaning, that you envision that humans can’t let go of the impact, effect and affect of aging. We can’t let aging not matter. Logically, then, you would deduce that aging won’t matter only when you begin to live forever in the next life. We aren’t actually sure we’re going to live forever until we die and begin to live forever.

That logical progression of the concept of forever is probably true for most of us. The bulk of us don’t confidently look at our old man hands and think, “In heaven my hands will look better than this, so why worry?” 

Some of us have old hands experiences way before old hands show up. Both men and women experience hair problems (thinning, graying, disappearing, and growing in the wrong areas) as early as 26. Diseases strike us as early as the womb. So, don’t think I’m just self-obsessing over aging, here. (Even though I probably am, don’t think that.)

The closer we get to engaging in the forever, the less we worry about aging. Aging is just not relative to forever, other than being a reminder that forever is getting closer. That’s a philosophical brain fart, by the way. How can forever get closer? A brain fart is the explosion that happens when the truth sounds ridiculous. If fart is too crude of an analogy, then call it a milk-out-of-your-nose explosion. That’s way better for some, I’m sure.

Forever, you see, is not only getting closer, says Jesus, forever is a guarantee once you realize who Jesus is, what he did, and what that means for you. More amazing, forever begins the moment you allow that Jesus is not only God (who he is), he loves you no matter what you’ve done (what he did), and you accept that his Holy Spirit is with you as a permanent resident (what it means for you).

When you live forever, then, aging doesn’t matter.  

That pretty much concludes the fascinating discussion that aging doesn’t matter, because forever is worth waiting for, which in effect is the point of aging. When we age, we had to wait too long. Did I just say that? Yes. That’s another brain fart, where the truth sounds ridiculous.

Aging isn’t what we were born to do. We were born to live forever. It does not matter what condition we’re in, what status we’ve risen to, or what preparedness we have accumulated, inventoried, or admired. This temporary life, proved temporary by aging itself, reflects that forever is really the point.

Thank you, Jesus for showing us that we can begin living forever, right now.

Which brings up the next question. 

How do we live forever, and where might that be?