You're older than you've ever been
And now you're even older
And now you're even older
And now you're even older
You're older than you've ever been
And now you're even older
And now you're older still

Time is marching on
And time is still marching on

So begins a weird song entitled “Older”, by the kooky band, They Might Be Giants. You can watch an appropriately weird music video of the song here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdIRrmNN_CQ A friend shared this song with me when my birthday rolled around back in seminary. It’s not a terribly happy song to share with someone on his or her birthday, although it’s certainly accurate in its assertion.

May is my birth month, and although birthdays are not particularly hard for me, (even milestone birthdays - which this one is not) it is another reminder that it’s been a year since my last birthday. Like New Year’s or other annual events, we can measure time based on their arrival and departure on the calendar each year. The birthday is the most personal one, however, as it measures our own finite lives. There will always be New Year’s and Christmases, but I won’t always have birthdays. At some point I will celebrate my final birthday. Between now and then I don’t imagine I’m going to worry too much about it. There’s too much living to do to worry about final birthdays.

As I learned while helping with the arrangements for Beverly Davis’ memorial service, she was one who kept her age a mystery.

While some know her true age, it was important for her that she not be linked to a number. Life is defined by how we live it, not by the calendar after all. The front cover of her memorial service bulletin has her birth month and day, and then the words, “some time ago,” where the year would normally be found. Birthdays are fun bits of trivia, but they should not be used to inform us about how we feel or how we act. I appreciate that about Beverly and others who do things like celebrating their 39th birthday five or six years in a row. Granted, such repeating birthdays are generally to avoid the dreaded 40 (or 50 or 60) and what we think comes with those numbers. Either way, I say, go for it – skip the number system altogether if it makes you happier and healthier.

Last month Donna and I went to see the movie, The Age of Adaline, a romantic story about a woman who stops aging and remains 29 years old permanently – at least in terms of her physical body. She still generates memories and wisdom, but her body does not age. To some of us it may sound like heaven, but it presents some problems when we consider how hard it is to outlive everyone you know and love. Not aging presented Adaline with a huge barrier to relationship and wholeness. She NEEDED to be able to age - to grow older – in order to feel fulfilled and normal. It’s a decent film; I would recommend it to you if it sounds interesting at all. There have been several stories that point out the downside of immortality, from the funny, Groundhog Day, to the subtler sub-plot of The Green Mile. Clearly it is something people think about and enjoy engaging through storytelling.

Seeking immortality denies an integral part of our creation; we are made to die. We are formed of the dust, and we shall return to the dust. This is not a great tragedy, it is merely the cost of life. We rejoice for what we have been given, the time that is ours, and we make the most of it. This is what gives life its sanctity. The amount of days we have on this side of heaven are finite no matter how many or how few (admitted or real) birthdays we have. We can make more money, but we can’t make more time. We can keep our money and not spend it, but we cannot keep our time. Jim Croce sang about the great subjunctive temporal wondering, “If I could save time in a bottle,” but we can’t.

Time is marching on. It’s at least two minutes later than it was when you started reading this rambling. Those two minutes are now a part of history. Life doesn’t have a pause button. It keeps moving. We keep aging. And that’s all ok. Our faith tells us that the calendars and timepieces of this world are not the final measure of our life. There is life on the other side of heaven, where I doubt time is measured at all. We don’t need to be afraid of the finite span of our life on earth; instead we should celebrate it, for it makes this life precious. I’m older than I’ve ever been, and now I’m even older. And you are too. Let’s make the most of it.

Tom

O God, our times are in your hand: look with favor, we pray, on us, your servants, this and every year. Grant that we may grow in wisdom and grace, and strengthen our trust in your goodness all the days of our lives; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Adapted Birthday prayer, BCP, p. 830