The Altar of Age

 Having turned 72 this past month, and my body's arthritis, aches, pains giving ample confirmation of that fact, I realize that the vast majority of my life is past.  Now, I am not sick from any disease - that I know of - except my Sin Nature that will not go away in this lifetime.  Yet, I can understand more and more this man I met years ago who said to me, "I can't wait to die and enter into Heaven's glory".  It's not that I didn't want heaven's glories, but I was younger and, if honest, didn't want to die yet.  

Over the course of these last three years, I've said goodbye to five close friends - all pretty much my age.  There were different reasons for their death - an accident, cancers, even covid - but each of them affected me in both sad and encouraging ways.  I know all of them as brothers in Christ and therefore celebrate their entrance to life eternal before our Savior.  Yet each of them left behind spouses, family, and friends - like me.  If anything hit me during that time it was that their lives on earth gave way to eternal life when a year before no one expected it.  If there's anything I don't want it's to live to a ripe old age and be the last one left behind!

I just finished reading Pilgrim's Progress - the fourth time in three years.  What I love about the book that is probably the most widely published book besides the Bible in the English language, is that Bunyan captures the life of faith and the journey we all have to make through the good and the bad in order to arrive into God's presence in heaven.  The last part of the book is one of my favorite parts as Christian and his friend Hopeful arrive at a great river that the angels tell them they must cross by their own faith.  The river represents their death and the angels remind them that for some the river is shallow and easy to cross and for others, it is deep, overwhelming, and threatens everything they have clung to concerning their faith. I'll leave it to you to read what happened, but it reminded me that no two people die the same way, and believe me when I say, as a Pastor, I've been around a lot of people who have died.

I read Charles Spurgeon every day and consider his musings on the scripture to be thoughtful and faithful to God - something I want to strive for daily in my own life.  I love his reflections on this part of life that we who are older are living as we realize that we are closer to the end than ever before.

The Altar of Age

At evening time there shall be light. - Zechariah 14:7

We often look forward with anxiety to the time of old age, forgetting that at evening time it shall be light. To many saints, old age is the choicest season in their lives. A warmer breeze fans the sailor's face as he nears the shore of immortality; fewer waves ruffle his sea; quiet reigns, deep, still and solemn. From the altar of age the flashes of the fire of youth are gone, but the deepening flame of sincere feeling remains. The pilgrims have reached the promised land, the happy country, whose days are as the days of heaven upon earth. Angels visit it, celestial gales blow over it, flowers of paradise grow in it, and the air is filled with heavenly music. Some live here for years, and others arrive only a few hours before their departure, but it is an Eden on earth.

We may begin to long for the time when we can recline in its shady groves and be satisfied with hope until the time of fruition comes. The setting sun seems larger than when it is high in the sky, and a splendor of glory tinges all the clouds that surround its going down. Pain does not break the calm of the sweet twilight of age, for strength is made perfect in weakness and endures it all patiently. Ripe fruits of choice experience are gathered as the rare food of life's evening, and the soul prepares itself for rest.

The Lord's people will also enjoy light the hour of death. Unbelief bemoans the evening shadows, the darkening night, the end of existence. But no, cries faith, the night is almost over and the true day is at hand. Light has come, the light of immortality, the light of the Father's countenance. Gather your feet up in the bed; see the waiting throng of angels ready to bear you away. Farewell, loved one, you are gone. You wave your hand; now it is light! The pearly gates are open; the golden streets shine in the jasper light. We cover our eyes, but you behold the unseen; adieu, dear friend, you have light at evening time that we have not yet.