Recently I
had the privilege of attending a presentation at the Yale Club in New York City
to hear a report on the project that seeks to ascertain what it means to live a
well-lived life. At the heart of this
program is an interdisciplinary course, which is taught by a theologian, an American
historian, and a philosopher.
I was impressed with the faculty and
students in this program, especially their eagerness to probe the great
religious traditions, philosophers, and the University’s own evolving mission
statements. The course moved the quest
beyond choosing a profession for what it pays to what constitutes a life worth
living. It is the most important
question. One student asked: “Is it ok
to talk about God in here?”
As I listened, I was even more
persuaded that Christianity has deep wisdom to offer on this topic of a
well-lived life. It is at the heart of
the biblical teaching, and the best of our theological heritage stresses this
pursuit.
Psalm
90:12 instructs to “number our days that we may gain hearts of wisdom.” Another translation says; “teach us to count
our days that we may gain a wise heart.” We do want to have just the right
amount—of days and dollars!
The Psalmist is not speaking about the countdown
to retirement, however; the writer is encouraging us to sift the seasons of our
lives in the light of God’s faithful provision. It is interesting that this is
the only Psalm attributed to Moses, which invites us to read it in the context
of his faithful dependence upon God. It
is his prayer, and we can learn from it.
Perhaps more than any other character in the Hebrew Bible, Moses has
engaged in persistent “holy whining” that moves God; his sheer stubbornness and
fidelity are the materials God uses to fashion a people.
Our lives and our allotted time are
gifts from God; our limitations are not punishment, and transience should not
cause despair. It is our refusal to live
within limits that is our original sin, according to Bonhoeffer. Most
of us have looked back on epochs in our lives and wondered why we did not
recognize the inherent goodness of that time; numbering our days can lessen
that regret in the present. Craddock
cautions us to make sure not to miss the best parts of our lives.
I recently read the account in Christian Century of the death of Tony
Robinson’s sister. She knew that she had
four tasks to do as she was dying: to tend to her worldly affairs; to make
amends, receiving and extending forgiveness; to seek peace with God; and to say
goodbye, to hear and to speak last words.[1]
It struck me that this was guidance
for the living, not just the dying. We
are always carrying in our bodies the life and death of Jesus Christ, which
transforms our days into precious markers of life.
The only constant of our lives is that God
reigns, and thus we can live day by day in trust and hope, knowing that our
efforts are not simply fleeting and futile.
It is God’s care and mindfulness of us that makes life worth living.
If we ask, God will grant a mind
wise enough to sort out the days, with their events, responsibilities, and
opportunities; God will grant the gift of discernment, which is
more than the result of human endeavor and must be taught by God’s Spirit.
In John 10, Jesus declares that his
mission was to grant abundant life, and many of us like to claim this verse in
a very personal way, which is understandable.
Yet, this is hard to comprehend when the world’s goods and opportunities
seem so unevenly distributed. Surely
Jesus did not mean abundance was meant for just a few, and it is our urgent responsibility
to think about “the destination of goods,” as the recent papal encyclical
implores. The poor have a claim on us—as
social mortgage—and we are called to give according to their need, not our desire.
Surely there is abundance beyond
material resources—love of beauty, thickness of family relationships, expressions
of empathy that quell social aggression, and generous hospitality. These cannot be monetized in a simple
financial calculus; they are expressions of life given over to the Gospel. This is the kind of life Jesus grants.
I would imagine that as we reflect on our own
lives, we realize that it would not be recognizable unless we had followed the
path God placed before you, and the road emerged as we walked on it, as
Moltmann puts it.
Now the calling is for us to live in an
exemplary way for those who follow,
demonstrating what a heart of wisdom looks like. I
like how Dave Jolly thinks about this:
The heart cannot be taught [simply] in a classroom intellectually, to students mechanically taking notes. . . . Good, wise hearts are obtained through lifetimes of diligent effort to dig deeply within and heal lifetimes of scars. . . . [You can’t . . . email it or tweet it.]
The wise person, [the abundant person], goes on setting an example of caring and perseverance. What a wise person teaches in the smallest part of what they give. The totality of their life, of the way they go about it in the smallest details, is what gets transmitted.[2]
That
is our task, to keep on pursuing a well-lived life—not simply for our own sake,
but for all those who watch and need the encouragement a faithful life can
provide. We also need to pay attention
to those further on the path, for we are unfinished persons. As we learn what God’s abundance is, we can
leave our common home better for all who follow.
So
teach us to number our days that we may gain hearts of wisdom. Amen.
Molly T. Marshall
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