How fast can you run? How high/far can you jump? For most of us reading (and writing) this, probably less fast/high/far than we once could. The Olympics – we marvel at the sporting achievements of those (mostly) younger than us.
Ageing. It comes to us all. Our physical and mental capabilities fall away, our energy drops. And that’s OK! ‘You are only as old as you feel,’ they say. Obviously not entirely true! But why should feeling older necessarily be worse anyway?
I’m currently reading a book entitled ‘Falling Upward – A spirituality for the two halves of life’. The author Richard Rohr, a Franciscan (aged 81), helpfully compares our earlier and later adult lives. When younger we tend to focus more on achievement, be this a career, raising a family, hobbies, or whatever. As we move through life, meaning can become more important.
It is often said that few people on their death bed wish they’d spent more time in the office, rather they are glad they spent time with family. Further than that, we can perhaps see better as we age that connection with the whole of humanity is how humanity works best. How we live becomes more important than what we do.
These Olympics mark 100 years since Eric Liddell’s athletic achievements, made famous in the film ‘Chariots of Fire’ and also in Paris. But which was more significant, these (and even his strong religious faith) or the grace he showed to his guards in the Japanese internment camp in which he died in 1945 (aged 43)? Which was more significant in Christ’s (short) life, his teaching and healing ‘achievements’, or the grace he showed to everyone even in death?
Our achievements fade as we age. We can’t run as fast (if at all). We may fall down more often than climb new heights. But there’s something we can do better with age: like good wine, grace matures. May we age into Olympians of grace – even if we’re the one coming in last, yet grateful just to be there.
