Growing old has its challenges. This body is wasting away, after all. Some of us think that reality is so far away, and others are currently discovering this truth in some real, personal ways, while some of us have become all too familiar with this truth. Year after year we see the effects of gravity in the mirror. Getting up off the couch involves more involuntary noises. We wake up with mysterious injuries. Everyone is getting old. From the moment we are born we start aging, straight to our prime and then we keep sailing right on past it, wishing we had some anchor to drop. But the current of this life is strong, and everyone is floating down the same river, with some serious attempts to swim against the flow.
There is a passion in our world to fight against this undefeated opponent of aging. Our culture worships youth. We try to hang on to it as long as we can. Our efforts show through what we chase after, whether it’s expensive creams that take away wrinkles, surgeries and injections to maintain a youthful appearance, intense fitness regiments, concealers, spanks, or shopping trips at Forever 21. We fight hard to reverse, slow, or hide the aging process as some foolish, losing fight against the curse. Forever 21? Why do we tell ourselves such lies? We all know being 21 doesn’t last forever—thank God. And yet, we resist the curse, or at least its symptoms, acting as if the cure hasn’t already come.
Our bodies wasting away is a shared reality among all humans, which means how Christians age should be a wonderful witness to our world. We are to be set apart, different in how we live, and our holiness should even extend into our aging. Christians need to age differently than the world. And no, this is not an argument that Christians should be the healthiest, best stewards of their bodies. I’ll save that scripture-twisting to your Instagram influencers sporting their cross tattoos (clearly visible in their bikini pictures).
Aging differently for the Christian is not some spiritualized attempt to slow, or hide, the reality of the curse, but rather it means to live as one who has already been given the cure. These bodies of ours that are wasting away are wonderful reminders that this world is temporary. And for those who live for this world, that is devastating news, but for those who have a passion for the next life—and a secured passage into it—shouldn’t that lead to aging more gracefully? And if so, wouldn’t even how we age be evangelistic?
What does it tell our world when we laugh at the time to come like the Proverbs 31 woman? We don’t panic and stress at the reality of aging, we laugh. We’re not bothered by the new wrinkles and shifting body shape, the stretchy skin or decaying muscle mass. And yes, beauty has value, but before you try and overplay that hand, what standard of beauty are you arguing for? And in whose eyes are you seeking to be beautiful? Aren’t we supposed to clothe ourselves with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God’s sight is very precious (1 Peter 3:4)? Wouldn’t that look like peace, not being bothered with falling behind in the world's beauty race of staying 21 forever? Wouldn’t it point to a better forever, evident in our laughter at aging like Paul mocking a death that has lost its sting? And isn’t that beautiful? Doesn’t it communicate something beautiful?
But maybe, if you are honest, that kind of beauty is not that appealing to you. What if, due to your steady diet of celebrity magazines and trashy reality TV shows, you’ve come to think sexy and beautiful are synonymous. And what you are really after is not to be admired, but desired. What if you, more than wanting to be precious in God’s sight, really just want to be noticed by the opposite sex, or at least have a flatter stomach than your older sister Tammy who does Crossfit. Perhaps our ambitions are off.
Why do we work so hard to get rid of wrinkles? They are badges of a life lived, one full of experiences that brought laughter and tears. They are literally called laugh lines, so why are they bad? Don't you want others to see your joy on your face? Why do we dye the graying of our hair when it is supposed to be the crown of glory (Proverbs 16:31)? Why do we seek so hard after perishable beauty when the hope of the gospel gives us a closet full of imperishable beauty? Unless, of course, putting on the new self doesn’t fit. Not because your waist is too fat, but your heart is too thin for Christ to dwell richly in there. And your rock-hard abs are more of a reflection of your stone heart still waiting for its supernatural, regenerate transplant that loves God more than likes on a social media post, or glances from Ted who sits across from you at work.
Our world worships youth, but for the Christian, aging brings us closer to our savior. It is a sign of wisdom. In the sanctifying work of the Spirit our later years ought to be the most fruitful and godly, so why don’t we long for those, look forward to them, admire them in others? Maybe the sad reality is the worship of youth in our culture has also become an idol in the church.
By all means, be healthy, exercise. I hope we are around to play with our grandkids on the floor in our 80s. But more than Christian old people being able to play trucks and dolls on the floor with toddlers, we need Christian older people showing the next generation how to age. How to laugh at the time to come. What it looks like to be free from an obsession over youth and looks. How to practically wear imperishable beauty to a wedding. And to a world that is in love with youth, we need older Christians to display how aging can be a beautiful thing when there is something glorious to look forward to.