never denigrated the wise use of possessions; many of his followers were people who were considered wealthy. Jesus taught never to equate bigger barns with bigger lives or with meaning and purpose. Our lives cannot be measured by the abundance of our possessions. I’ll leave this hot potato for you to consult the Gospels for further enlightenment.
We Are Just Passing Through.
There is an old gospel song with the line: “This world is not my home, I’m just a passing through.” The biblical description of who we are is repeatedly described as “pilgrim.” A recurring theme in Ecclesiastes is that not much really matters because, after all, we all end up in the grave. That is the darkest theme in the book and it only tells a portion of the story — but it is a portion we ignore at our peril. We often fail to see life as gift and our brief journey here as a time to make the most of every hour that is offered to us.
And there is another thing to learn from this brevity:
Why should anything that anyone says or does cause you to get disturbed? You’re just on a planet spinning around the middle of absolutely nowhere. You came here to visit for a handful of years and then you’re going to leave. How can you live all stressed-out over everything? Don’t do it.19
Brevity does not equal meaninglessness in the context of faith. We will address this issue more fully in the Conclusion, “Is This As Good As It Gets?”
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
1 Have you spent much time reading Ecclesiastes or the other Wisdom books? Why do you think this is so?
2 Do you believe in living the middle way?
3 What have you found that brings satisfaction, meaning, and a sense of purpose?
14 James Limburg, Encountering Ecclesiastes: A Book for Our Time (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 2008), 18.
15 Ibid.
16 Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul (Oakland, CA: New Harbinger Publications, 2007), 165.
17 Ibid, 166.
18 Donald Altman, Clearing Emotional Clutter (New York: MJF Books, 2016), 1.
19 Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul, 135.
Chapter 3:
School Is
Never Out
There is a better word than “disciple.”
In a recent translation of the Gospels, I have found it most instructive that the Greek word usually rendered disciples now reads students: And Jesus said to his students. Too many current ideas about being Christian have to do with certain things that one believes. I concur that the Christian faith has content, but it is easy to forget that the earliest Christians were called “Followers of the Way.” They believed that Jesus was the long-awaited Christ (Messiah) and confessed him as savior but that was only the beginning. That was step one. It was not Christianity full-blown.
It is unfortunate that one particular way to translate key verses in John 3 has tended to make conversion into a package transaction with the resultant, “Well, now I’ve done that.” I’m talking about Jesus’ command to Nicodemus: “You must be born again.” I believe the much better translation (and one that fits far better into the entire conversation of the chapter) is: You must be born from above; you must be born of the Spirit. Although the first certainly implies the need for growth and learning, the second places conversion in the context of Kingdom ethics and the way of the Spirit. It gives direction and content to the kind of new beginning which “acceptance of Jesus as savior” involves.
The rabbi’s lessons are never finished.
Jesus spent his earthly ministry teaching his students. The primary title for Jesus in the Gospels is Teacher. In the Sermon on the Mount, Matthew depicts Jesus as a rabbi with teaching authority when he tells us: Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them. The Synagogue custom was for the rabbi to stand for the reading of Scripture and to be seated for his teaching. Matthew was also picturing Jesus as the new Moses (cf. Moses on Mount Sinai and Jesus on a mountainside).
Jesus never presented any graduation diplomas to his students. To the contrary, he constantly called them to task for so easily forgetting some of the earlier lessons in his curriculum. Even toward the very end of his earthly ministry they were arguing about which one of them was the greatest. His promise was that on his departure, the Spirit (Holy Spirit, His Spirit) would continue to teach and lead them into further truth. He never hinted there would be a time when school would be out. They were to be perpetual learners and discoverers of aspects of the life of faith they never knew existed.
I believe school is never out because we are consistently at a new age and level in life that causes us to be open to new truths and insights. Some complain they were never taught in seminary many of the things they found they needed when they began ministry. (The same probably holds true for all institutions of higher learning.) In my case, I believe most of these things were taught but I simply was not at the place in life where I could hear them. My life experiences were too few and the ups and downs of dealing with church congregations had not yet made me aware of how much there was yet to be learned. My learning continued, my library grew, and my acknowledgment of how little I really knew increased at an alarming rate. It soon became obvious I had a long way to go and I never anticipated a graduation date. The sea was too great and my boat was too small.
Unfortunately, there is something that not only rings the closing bell for classes, but robs us of what we already know.
I only wish that when I had written my last book, Aging is Not Optional: How We Handle It Is, that Tia Powell’s Dementia Reimagined had been available. It was issued in 2019. In my section on Alzheimer’s it would have been one of my must-read recommendations. I give you a few insights from that book simply to encourage you to a secure a copy for a thorough exploration of her subtitle: Building a Life of Joy and Dignity from Beginning to End:
Dementia lasts for years. Most of that time, people with dementia retain the skills, memories, and passions that allow joy and inclusion in the larger social world, if we would but let them in.20
…a great deal of what medicine offers patients is care… Yet medicine is too embarrassed to admit this. Care seems soft and unscientific: we’d prefer to hand out swashbuckling cure. It could have gone the other way. Medicine could have taken seriously the Hippocratic instructions to cure sometimes, treat often, comfort always.21
A distinction needs to be made between dementia and Alzheimer’s disease.22
Powell gives an extended section on how to build “cognitive reserve” and its importance in protecting brain function. Much of it has to do with continued learning in many areas of life.23
The insurance companies don’t want your business. They are getting out of long-term care in droves.24
Today, thoughtful experts
