But within five years, I found out that others considered me a senior, especially when I began to receive unsolicited mail from the Social Security Administration. I realized that I was joining millions of other Americans under that vast umbrella called Medicare.
As I prepared that sermon, I ran across lots of jokes about older people, almost as many as the sexist jokes, which made me aware of how ageist a society we are. But, putting the issue of ageism aside for the time being, let me share some of the humor, because laughter keeps us young.
Did you know that a true senior citizen is one who can remember when a senior citizen was called an "old-timer"?
Or that middle age is when you think that in a week or two, you'll feel as good as new?
Or that to be a sexagenarian sounds like flattery?
Or that Lady Astor decided to stop telling her age after 52, even if that made her two sons illegitimate?
It was said that in his 90s, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, out walking in Washington, D.C., with a friend, commented upon passing a lovely young woman: "Oh, to be 70 again!"
And Winston Churchill, while in Parliament, was told by a colleague that his fly was open. His reply: "No bother. Dead birds don't fall out of their nests."
Or of the lady who was so old, she didn't dare buy green bananas anymore.
And the 105-year-old man who, upon being congratulated on taking another bride, replied: "Who said I wanted to get married?"
And then, the story of the famous theatrical couple, Alfred Lunt and Lynn Fontanne, who once took a screen test in their advanced years. She went to the screening and came home much disturbed. "Alfred," she exclaimed, "we looked awful! Your lips looked so thin and I had bags under my eyes, wrinkles all over, and a sagging neck. What do you think of that?" To which Alfred replied: "Hmm, thin lips, you say?"
But my favorite is the story about the author William Somerset Maugham, who in his 80s was asked to speak at a banquet. He began by saying, "Old age his its benefits." Then, after a long, painful pause, he cleared his throat, sipped some water, gazed about, shuffled his notes, started to speak several times with but only a few disjointed words. Finally, he said, "I'm trying to think of some." And, after another pause, he sat down.
But allow me now to be serious about aging as I enter my 73rd year this coming Wednesday. For many of you, I'm preaching to the choir, for you've long since passed my age. Actually, in these modern days in America, the 70s are the youthful years of being elderly. As for the younger folks here, I can guarantee that the time will come when your feet will ache even before you get out of bed.
Aging is a physical process that varies according to our genes, the way we take care of our bodies by nourishment and exercise, and the stresses arising from our lifestyles and environment. Growing old is also a mental process, depending upon our attitudes toward life and the exercise of our minds. I'd like to think, as did Bernard Baruch, that old age is 15 years ahead, no matter what age you are. The saying "Use it or lose it!" applies to aging. The more we take care of our bodies, the more the body will take care of us. A healthy body, even a moderately healthy body (where I list myself), usually leads to a fairly healthy mind. But the mind too has to be exercised. Again, "Use it or lose it!"
In this respect, I feel fortunate in being a minister, with all the mental responsibilities the profession entails. Yes, like many of you, I often walk across the room to get something only to forget what. That happens to us all, even before our 70s. But it is my belief that the idle mind does become the aging mind. We need to keep ourselves intellectually challenged, whether we go back to school in our retirement years, volunteer with helping agencies, or become teachers by sharing our special skills or knowledge with others. (In this respect, there is no better place for you to grow young and to keep your mind active than you can find right in this church as a teacher for our church school.)
Another personal benefit of the ministry has been through the personal stories of the elderly parishioners I have known. I have known a 90-year-old mariner who sailed under canvas, not steam. Through others, I have heard second- and third-hand stories extending back over nearly two centuries. And I have known quiet heroes and heroines who have surpassed great difficulties and tragedies and lived on to a serene and proud old age. And they all -- all -- died with courage and dignity, and were young at heart to the end. They have taught me that age is a state of mind, not of body.
We all know young adults who are already pessimistic and negative; they will be even worse in their advanced years. And the society in which we live doesn't make it any easier, for ours is an ageist society. One only needs to watch an evening of television to know this. Youth is portrayed in every commercial unless the product being sold happens to be for backaches, loose false teeth, graying hair or hemorrhoids.
There are many examples of busy people living longer. The founders of our nation lived far beyond the average years of their times, when only 2 percent of the population was over 65. The first 10 presidents of the United States lived an average of 77.4 years when the average life expectancy was only 35. Less than half of the founders lived privileged lives, and none had good medical care, for such didn't exist then. One of Benjamin Franklin's prime rules for living was to "lose no time. Be always gainfully employed. Work as if you were to live a hundred years." One thing the founders seemed to have in common: They saw that life was a heaven-sent gift, one to be used and not squandered.
Today in this nation, nearly 40 million are over 65 and our numbers are growing. A vast potential market exists with us, not with the "Pepsi generation." Madison Avenue hucksters apparently haven't gotten the word. To read the New York Times or the New Yorker, you would think that all consumers are under 25. Ageism prevails. It taints the way we think about our elderly; it taints the way we think about ourselves, whatever our age.
But my purpose today is to emphasize that ageism need not bring us to despair. We can stay young by doing the best with what we have, our bodies and our minds. But beyond body and mind, as a man of religion I cannot stress enough that we must also nourish our souls. The purpose of life is to become as human as we can possibly be, an ever-becoming process of humanness -- a "growing of the soul," as your former minister A. Powell Davies would say. As a Unitarian Universalist, I know that there is no simple way or discipline or belief system that will help us toward a greater humanness. But I do know that every challenge, every failure, every courageous stand against injustice, every questioning of the misuses of power, every kindness, every generosity, every loving relationship -- all such actions and attitudes build the quality of our souls so that some day we can confidently say, "I've tried my best and will continue as long as I can. Imperfect, yes, but by God, I've tried."
It is obvious that we cannot grow a soul alone. We need help, we must do it together. Relationship is at the root of it all. Alone, we are merely erect, two-legged animals. Together we are human. Together we can be a congregation where we gather in order to consider the highest of values. Together we practice empathy, compassion, caring, honesty and love. Together our joys are enhanced and our sorrows are bearable. Together we are enriched in heart and soul, and as contributors to the ongoing stream of life, come to know that something of quality lives on because of our small part in the scheme of things.
For there is an aspect of aging that puts us in touch with the eternal, if we are but open to it. In our senior years, we begin to have time to reflect and to better understand the many facets that make us what we are. In knowing that our time is short, we come to appreciate the many common events of our lives that we so often take for granted. Perhaps this is what Shakespeare meant when he wrote: "And this our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in every thing."
Growing a soul, appreciating the common events of life -- such wisdom can be our blessing with old age. Erik Erickson, the famed psychologist, wrote that the advantage of later years is the knowing gained from years of observing, doing, and reflecting on successes and failures -- evaluating the meaning of our lives and perhaps passing on our wisdom to those who follow us.
A Unitarian minister, Lon Ray Call, wrote at age 84: "To say that one has been trained for a congenial career and followed it, married for love and generally lived a life of self-fulfillment -- few have been so fortunate. But, for all, now that old age has come, the great opportunity of later years is to find and nourish one's true self. If, earlier, there was indeed a world 'out there' to be explored and conquered, now there is a world within the self to be explored and understood."
Walt Whitman said the final days can be the "teeming, happiest of all!" These the words of a man wracked with arthritic pain in his last years.
Finally, these words of another Unitarian Universalist minister, Clinton Lee Scott, who at the age of 83 penned these poetic lines:
I walk upon the beach … my beach!
Mine:
the white granular sand,
the tumbling wind-chased waves,
the unclouded sky,
the wheeling white-robed gulls.
I possess and am possessed by all
I see, and hear, and feel.
Broad-bosomed matrons, pot-bellied men
wading in the water's edge
or plunging into furrows of the tide,
Children building their fragile castles
on the shore.
Loving couples walking hand in hand
or lying close together on the sand …
All these, and more, are mine,
in some way that is real.
And though they may not know it yet,
I belong to them.
To sum up: Now, at 73, I am even more aware of how short is the time that remains. Five-sixths of my life is over. Oh, as a child the days seemed endless from one Christmas to the next. Now the days rush by. I am full of nostalgia and gladness. The years have been so good to me: many adventures, many challenges, some failures, many friends, and many loves.
I look forward to the future when circumstances may permit me to savor the memories. I hope that health and vitality allows me yet time to pack more things into this life, for there is yet so much to see, so much to learn, so much to do!
President John Quincy Adams perhaps best summed it up when he wrote in his 80s while still a member of Congress: "Now I enter my elder days. I would like to think that my mind is 20 years behind my body, even though troublesome forgetfulness harasses every day. But still, each and every day is sweet. So, I will take them gratefully, one by one."
So may it be.
* * * * * * * * * * *
"When I have fears, as Keats had fears
of when I'll cease to be,
I'll console myself with remembered sorrows,
remembered joys, remembered tears,
and the peace of the changing sea.
And remembered friends, now dead and gone.
How happy they are, I cannot know.
But happy am I, who loved them so."
-- Noel Coward
The sermon in a Unitarian Universalist setting is never the last word on any subject, but rather an invitation to further dialog.
You may want to read other visitors' comments on Rev. Oren A. Peterson's "Thoughts on Aging" .
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