Over the years, I have heard it said often that Aging is not for sissies or wimps! Another favorite warning is, Getting older is not for the faint of heart. Equally true! I have always liked Philip Larkin's description of it as an "inverted childhood." (The Old Fools) I think sometimes that my inversion has already begun. Aging predictably intrudes with a multitude of challenges — mental, physical, emotional, sometimes financial and always relational, often referred to as "social frailty." I am writing this blog during the 'aging' chapter of my life, and when the heart must not be faint. On Friday, after experiencing a decline in health for months, Barb, our neighbor and best friend, died peacefully in Christiansburg, Virginia. She was living with her daughter, Rebecca, and her wife, Cloe, and grandchildren, Larson and Piper, before traveling to Florida for the winter, as she has done for years. Her death creates in our lives a cavernous void, a cruel vacancy, and an empty house next door safeguarding memories of an extraordinary person and so many fun times. Upon hearing the news of Barbie's death, Lois mentioned that they have been best friends for forty-five years, ever since I came home one day from a pastoral visit with the Caldwell family and said to Lois: I just saw the biggest two-year-old I have ever seen! That man-child was Ethan, someone I always refer to as the best there ever was, the best there ever will be!
Barbie was an elementary school physical education teacher for thirty-six years. She delighted in her students throughout her career, treating them as if they were her own grandchildren. Our grandson, Cole, loved her. When visiting us, he would often visit Barb first. Peter and Brianna were concerned about how best to tell Cole, and when they did, they did it with sensitive effectiveness, asking Cole what he would miss most about his friend.
He replied: "her hugs!" (Truth be known, he will miss also the stash of Reese's peanut butter cups in the fridge, Shady Glen ice cream in the freezer and the tin lunch box in the TV room with the toys in it.)
Cole may prove to be better at this 'grieving' than we are. Aging, with the loss of one friend after another, complicates the experience and confirms that it is certainly not for the faint of heart because the heart, with the loss of family and friends like Barb, hurts so deeply. One of my favorite quotes by Lewis B. Smedes, however, speaks profoundly to the situation.
You and I were created for joy, and if we miss it, we miss the reason for our existence. For all of us, joy is possible only because we were created for it. But you cannot have honest joy if it does not have its roots in sorrow. It is a paradox of the human condition that honest joy is possible only because we were created and the human condition is a tragedy. Joy is compatible with pain. Only the heart that hurts has a right to joy.
At a time of acute grief, when the heart really hurts, believing that joy is compatible with pain or has its roots in sorrow is very difficult to process and appropriate. This is especially true during the holiday season when the seat at the Thanksgiving table is empty, or a certain voice is missing from the carol sing, or a shopping companion is no longer available to use that 30% coupon at Kohl's. Being sad and grief-stricken during the holidays is no fun, and yet, perhaps it is an opportune time to embrace the sorrow and suffering that accompany loss so that joy may emerge. Is not that what our Christian faith brings, as the Christmas hymn says: "tidings of comfort and joy?"
I am reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul, speaking to the congregants in Thessalonica:
13 But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about those who have died,[b] so that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. 14 For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have died. (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14) RSVU
I have always loved a few special one-liners about hope.
Were it not for hope, the heart would break.
(Scottish Proverb)
In our time of grief, it is hope that helps us with our broken heartedness.
I remember a series of quotes about hope in 'O' Magazine. One was by the comic dramatist, Terrance:
Where there is life, there is hope.
As true as that may be, I believe that the following is equally true:
Where there is hope, there is life.
I once received a solicitation letter from a Christian mission organization called The Chariots of Hope. Their motto is:
Where there is hope, there is triumph.
The season of Advent has begun, that time of anticipation and preparation, of waiting and watchfulness. Lois and I have given Hailey and Cole their nativity Advent calendars, the ones with chocolates. The Elf on the Shelf is up to his/her nightly mischievous romps, and all the Christmas activities that make the season so merry are in full motion. As we read through the lectionary, the poetic power of the prophet Isaiah soars over a discouraged but ever hopeful world, including you and me. He sings of triumph with a glad heart.
6 On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees well refined. 7 And he will destroy on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. 8 He will swallow up death for ever, and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of his people he will take away from all the earth; for the Lord has spoken.
9 It will be said on that day, "Lo, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation." Isaiah 25: 6-9
Or
27 Why do you say, O Jacob,
and speak, O Israel,
"My way is hid from the Lord,
and my right is disregarded by my God"?
28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary,
his understanding is unsearchable.
29 He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
30 Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
31 but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength,
they shall mount up with wings like eagles,
they shall run and not be weary,
they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40: 27-31 RSV)
And from Patmos and the pen of John:
'He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death' or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." He who was seated on the throne said, "I am making everything new!" Then he said, "Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true." — Revelation 21:4-5
The Rev. Emily Wiles works for the ELCA in new ministry development and evangelism and wrote the following thoughtful reflection:
The season of Advent reminds me to seek hope in the ebb and flow of grief. It reminds me that I can hold God accountable for those promises in scripture. God's stories—our stories—illuminate the unlimited possibilities of God's grace. Even when love feels distant, even when our loved ones seem hidden, God shows us how to find hope that carries us into joy.
Barbara was fond of walking into our house and playfully asking me if I missed her. I would always say, "No!" She would then say, "Yes you did!" Today, I miss her big time, and I know that my heart, along with others, hurts. The magnificent promise of our faith, however, is that while aging may not be for sissies, wimps or the faint of heart, even if it was, we are promised youthful strength and renewal in the Lord. He will wipe every tear from our eyes and make all things new. Our joy will be honest because it will be compatible with our pain. We do not grieve as others do who have no hope. Our hope is in the Lord, a baby born in Bethlehem, and this proclamation is trustworthy and true.