Until middle age, I had never known anyone who was not either a Christian or a Jew. Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus and people espousing the other religious traditions of the world simply did not come across my suburban paths during childhood and adolescence. And obviously all of my colleagues in the Jesuit order where I lived in early adulthood shared my own Christian faith.
In 1972, however, I took part in what was billed as “Word Out of Silence: Spiritual Formation East and West,” a symposium held at Mount Saviour Monastery in Elmira, New York. There the Benedictine monks hosted religious leaders from a dozen different traditions in a week of prayer and other spiritual exercises. It meant my first exposure to turbaned swamis and Zen masters with shaved heads, an experience that helped to change my world view.
I will always remember the strain in my leg muscles as I assumed the lotus position for meditation each morning at 4:30 under the direction of a Japanese roshi. Though I was used to my own strict religious discipline, I worried about being able to last out the week under that austere regimen.
At that time, only in the middle of my life journey, old age did not interest me as a subject for reflection. I was still too young for thoughts of later life to impinge upon my consciousness. Though I did often contemplate the thought of my own death, that event seemed far off in the future.
Thirty years later, however, I have become intent on finding whatever light on old age is offered by the various religious traditions of the world. Surely their wisdom, preserved for thousands of years, must have something important to say about what it means to grow old. And they must speak to the end of life on earth and its meaning for the future.
Even the changes brought on by modern life, I have learned, do not rob the wisdom traditions of relevance to our situation. In fact, as we struggle to find out for ourselves what later life means, many elders feel starved for spiritual nourishment. If traditions other than those with which we grew up can feed that hunger, then we may want to hear more.
This experience helps explain why I recently welcomed receiving for review a package of materials from the Park Ridge Center, based in Chicago. Entitled “The Challenges of Aging,” this package is intended for adult education in church settings. Though its focus is primarily Christian, the material also includes a rich handbook summarizing the outlook of other religious traditions about aging. Further information about the Park Ridge Center’s educational program is available at (312) 266-2222.
Though the five traditions discussed in the handbook – – Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism – – differ among themselves in many ways, they all share some central values about aging. These values go directly against two dramatically different views of aging that have become dominant in modern American society. Both of these secular views are deeply flawed and are often the object of criticism by gerontologists and people who hold dear the religious insights offered by their tradition.
Those two views portray old age as 1) simply a time of decline when we start to lose it as we proceed downward on the path toward death, or 2) a stage of life in which enterprising people can practice “successful aging” achieving good health, engaging in ceaseless activity, and discovering new creativity.
By contrast, the great religious traditions say first of all: “Later life is a time of spiritual flourishing.” These are the words of Dina Varano, who writes the fine summary article in the handbook that comes with the adult education package referred to above.
Spiritual flourishing is consistent with physical suffering and decline. In fact, all the traditions find value in suffering, not as an end in itself but as an opportunity for enrichment of soul. Personal enlightenment can transform the experience of bodily decline into personal greatness.
Each spiritual tradition calls for a “radical transformation of consciousness in later life.” Varano quotes the philosopher Harry Moody: “The spiritual traditions have never accepted the idea that human fulfillment is the product of social roles or relentless activity in the world.” Rather, the great religions see human fulfillment as something spiritual that comes as a gift of God.
Incidentally, the ancient Jewish biblical commentaries offer a charming explanation of how age began. The Midrash tells it this way: “Abraham introduced old age to the world. He came before the Lord with a plea. ‘Master of the universe, a man and his son walk together and no one knows unto whom to give honor. I beg of you, make a distinction between us.’”
Thus, according to this tradition, did age become seen as a blessing. The other religious traditions, too, offer profound reasons for appreciating what it means to grow older.
Richard Griffin