A ripe old age

 

It was bad enough when a woman of a certain age complimented me for looking 'dapper'. I thought only snappily dressed elderly gents were called that. Now people I haven't seen for a while ask me if I have already retired, or when I'm going to. For the record, I'm still the right side of 60 (just), and don't intend to stop working anytime soon. Nonetheless, I seem to have crossed an invisible line and suddenly become an older man. At least in the eyes of others.

This was exacerbated the other week when my boy racerish Vauxhall Corsa developed a fault, and the repair garage gave me an ‘vintage’ Honda Jazz as a courtesy car. Twice on a short journey, I was cut up at roundabouts. Other drivers obviously thought it would take an age for me to get anywhere near them, so they chanced it. The cheek.

Nothing against older people, of course. I just didn’t expect to become one quite so soon. But the prospect of ageing doesn't mean it's all downhill from now on. Yes, a certain amount of physical and even mental deterioration can be expected with the advancing years, but old age can still be a time of spiritual growth and ripening fruitfulness.

I have known believers who became frail and housebound in old age, yet even with the advancing years they were full of faith, hope, and love. Spending time with them put me in mind of words found in one of the psalms, 

 The righteous will still bear fruit in old age,                                                                                                  they will stay fresh and green,                                                                                                                        proclaiming, ‘The Lord is upright;                                                                                                                    he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in him.’                                                                                     (Psalm 92:14-15)

* For various local publications 

The shame of it

‘What will the neighbours say?’ worries Mrs Waldo in Under Milk Wood by Dylan Thomas. Her husband’s much gossiped about behaviour was tarnishing the family name. Thomas’s play for voices was the product of 1950s Britain when the fear of being shamed in the eyes of one’s local community helped to keep people in order. Although that didn’t quite work in the case of Mr Waldo.

 

The idea of being shamed by what anyone else may think of us seems a little quaint now. Self-expression trumps the censure of society. Who cares what the neighbours say? But perhaps good old-fashioned shame has nothing to be ashamed of. Even in our shameless times. Think of the habitual shoplifters who fear neither the opprobrium of society nor the sanctions of the law. The Old Testament prophet Jeremiah bemoaned the spiritually broken times in which he lived,  “they were not at all ashamed; they did not know how to blush”.

 

But it is sometimes recognised that shame may still serve a useful purpose. In a recent article in The Times the columnist James Marriott reflected on how we may cure people of their addiction to smartphones. He argued that the key thing is not so much the government clamping down on big tech, as socially stigmatising mindless scrolling, or using screens as a way of keeping the kids quiet. Oh, the shame of appearing to be a phone-addicted zombie.

 

Shame is the healthy, although uncomfortable feeling that arises when we are found out doing something wrong, or at least something that is frowned upon by society. It is a sign that our consciences are in good working order. Daniel (of the lion’s den fame) in the Bible confessed the failings of his fellow Jews who were exiled to Babylon in these terms, “To us, O Lord, belongs open shame…. because we have sinned against you.”

 

How can we hope to cover our shame and blot out the wrongdoing that caused it? Jesus came to deal with the guilt of our sin by dying on the cross for us. He faced the shame of public crucifixion as his enemies jeered at him, “If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” But it was precisely because he was the Son of God that he endured the cross, despising the shame. That is what it cost him to save us. By faith in Jesus we can know the forgiveness of our sins. Plus, the Scriptures assure us, “Everyone who believes in him will not be put to shame.” 

*For local parish magazines 

An idle tale

That's how early followers of Jesus reacted to emerging reports that he had risen from the dead. 

I mean, once you're dead, you're dead, right? Even Jesus couldn't defy that iron law. The story was easy to dismiss because it seemed so unlikely, but also because those who told it weren't regarded as reliable witnesses. Women, their testimony counted for nothing in those days.

But the last thing Jesus' female followers expected was to find him alive from the dead. Early on the first Easter Sunday morning Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Salome made their way to his tomb laden with spices to complete the process of laying Jesus' body to rest. They wondered how they were going to move the large stone that covered entrance to Jesus' tomb so they could go about their work. But they needn't have worried, for when they arrived at the tomb, they found that the stone had already been rolled way. They entered the tomb, but mystifyingly, the body of Jesus was nowhere to be found. 

Two men wearing clothes that gleamed like lightning explained all, “He is not here; he has risen!”. As the women went to tell the other disciples what they had seen, they encountered the risen Jesus for themselves. When the women excitedly told the others what they had seen and heard the response wasn’t one of ready faith. Hardly. As Luke says in his Gospel account, ’these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.’ 

Jesus appeared as a bodily presence to his other followers later that day. It was only then that they were convinced he had indeed been raised from the dead. What the women said was true. 

Jesus’ resurrection was the most momentous event in history. It means his death atoned for our sins. It means the power of death has been conquered that we may have the hope of eternal life by faith in him. It authenticates Jesus’ claim that he was the Son of God. 

Jesus is risen! Maybe not such an idle tale after all.

* For various local parish magazines