In my last post Richard Rohr was telling us that we need to embrace contradictions to enter the second half of life and grow psychologically and spiritually. We must, in his words, “fall down” in order to “move up.”
To do this, we must find our “true self,” a term used by twentieth-century Trappist monk Thomas Merton to describe the person God created us to be. We must leave our “false self,” that (psychologically younger) person dominated by ego and false values, most notably selfishness, greed and judgmentalism of the sort modeled by the elder brother in the prodigal son story in the New Testament. We must be “soul drawn” instead of “ego-driven.”
Most of what Rohr is saying fits quite nicely with what society tells us about aging. We should expect to be mellower in old age, give up our striving and need to control others, and accept the role and demeanor of the “wise” elder.
Unfortunately, neither our modern society nor our religious institutions do a very good job of helping us do these things. Our unregulated capitalist society continues to promote increased consumption of material goods and wealth so we can retire comfortably for several decades, a concept unheard of in human history before the twentieth century. Even as we age, we are urged to put money and things ahead of people.
Many of our Christian churches, especially those known in America as “evangelical,” continue to promote an either-or theology of doctrinal authoritarianism and preach a God of exclusion and punishment, of Heaven OR Hell, instead of the message of love of God, self, and neighbor lived and preached by Jesus.
But here is where spiritual awareness can begin to help us. Those of us seeking to grow in our “second half” of life, however old we are when that happens, can learn, perhaps with the aid of prayer, spiritual reading or meditation, to “learn how to live in the big picture, as a part of deep time and history.” Rohr calls this “living in the kingdom of God” which exists now, and not just after death. We can be both a part of a and a contributor to that kingdom way of life now. Heaven can wait, to steal the title of a recent book.
Rohr talks about this in a compelling passage: “We no longer need to change or adjust other people to be happy ourselves. Ironically, we are more than ever before in a position to change people—but we do not need to –and that makes all the difference. We have moved from doing to being to an utterly new kind of doing that flows almost organically, quietly, and by osmosis. Our actions are less compulsive. We do what we are called to do, and then try to let go of the consequences. We usually cannot do that when we are young.”
I admit that this is more aspiration than fact for me and for many of us. But does that make it any less admirable or true? My vision is clearer now, even though my feet are still moving pretty slowly.
Our attempts to achieve a measure of peace and tranquility as we age—especially given the problems that face us, our families and our world today—probably will be determined by our ability to avoid what Rohr calls “the seven C’s of delusion, and the source of most violence” in our lives. These are the products of the dualistic mind which, he tells us (in a fit of alliteration) “compares, competes, conflicts, condemns, cancels out any contrary evidence, and then crucifies with impunity.”
And the saddest thing about this is that so many religious people do all these things in the mistaken notion that they are “saving souls for Heaven.” Aging gives us an opportunity to change, and the divinity within us urges us to do so. But only grace and persuasion, and never damnation, will help us truly change.
2 replies on “Aging Thoughts: Richard Rohr-2”
Catching up on July’s blog posts you made, Ken, I see your endeavors urge us to balance modern American life’s call to individual responsibility with a renewed sense of the common good. Heated rhetoric of the past few years has left us more insecure, distrustful, wary, and isolated than at any point in my lifetime. Why else are we offered so many commercial devices to keep us safe, connected, entertained, informed? All of which do little to relieve us of our heightened sense of vulnerability. To what, whom? Our favored media further our core preconceived notions rather than disabuse us of them. How? By reinforcing our need for support, even if virtual and at-a-distance. Social of broadcast media both have the effect of constant disturbance of our state of mind.
So I see your efforts, citing Rohr’s work, to take pause, calm ourselves, open to God’s grace and care as a way to extract from the noise. Just a couple decades or so ago, we could take advantage of times with friends, club members, fellow church goers, even casual encounters with strangers, would you believe? Not so now. Even before the pandemic’s onset, our tendency toward the need for control had been accelerating a chimerical sense of self-reliance and independence. Hence, again, our now obsession with technology as sole source of comfort, security, and companionship. Unplanned forays into the outside in the form of casual strolls, pleasure rides, and explorations have become a memory of things past. While I think Rohr’s call for us to pause to take stock of where we are and to hear the voice of God, he also reminds us that taking action to reconnect and rectify our social ills is part and parcel of that same call.
MIchael, your thoughts are “spot on” and very encouraging to me, since I find myself in a position of knowing and even believing more than I am able to live. This is why I said Rohr’s recommendations were, for me, only aspirations. Your point about the need for us to actually meet and talk is especially relevant now, in Coronaville. I hope that sometime, within the next few months, we will all be able to do more of that. Thanks for taking the time to read what I posted and comment on it. That virtual conversation between friends is one of the reasons I started this blog. Peace to you and Jan.