Rage, Rage

Ministerial Meandering

Rage, rage.

Because I have seen a lot of death and dying, I am of the opinion that the process should not be drawn out over a long and protracted period of time.  I say this with some bitterness in my heart, because I saw my father ‘die’ slowly, over about the last twenty years of his life.  Don’t worry, I shan’t be going over his story again, apart from acknowledging that he did suffer intermittently from inflammatory bowel disease in his later years.  This gradual demise was mostly unnecessary as he simply disengaged with life.  He died aged 93.

Most of us, as we accumulate additional birthdays, find that we also accumulate unwanted ailments that impinge on our activities and enjoyment of life in one way or another.  For those of us who are tempted to ‘give in’ to these unwelcome guests, I would refer you to the quote above, which is from Dylan Thomas’ poem to his father; ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’.  I would quote the whole poem here, but Graham tells me that I get too ‘wordy’ anyway, so I will try to keep it short, and only quote the first stanza;

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‘Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.’

Here is a poet who knows and sees what it is to face death - but will not allow it to overwhelm his spirit.  If you read the whole poem (it is short) you will find that he gives examples of people who realize too late what could have been achieved, or rather, how much they did achieve - and never realized it until it was too late to enjoy.

Because of my mis-spent youth, this poem of Thomas’ had me recalling John Milton’s ‘Samson Agonistes’, where Samson, now in a Philistine prison as a result of revealing to his treacherous wife, Delilah, the secret of his strength (his hair - which she cuts off while he sleeps), has had his eyes put out.  The epic poem gives rise to such oft-quoted phrases as, ‘Eyeless in Gaza…’ and; 

‘O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon,
Irrecoverably dark, total Eclipse
Without all hope of day!’

Milton then explores in detail what light and sight give us - and what we so often take for granted.  I recall how Hilary’s greatest sadness before she died was her loss of sight; but she still came along to church and sang and clapped and bobbed along with our music, which she loved.

What I’m getting at - in case you hadn’t worked it out by now - is that we need to make the most of what we have got, and not endlessly wail about what we have lost (or never had).

There is a corollary to this, which is that not only should we make the most of what we have, but we should do our utmost not to lose any more!  This will mean exercising our minds and bodies on a regular basis.  Self-discipline is neither easy nor particularly pleasant, but the benefits are innumerable.

Let me cite my Uncle Keith - whom most of you have met on Zoom over the last couple of years.  He remains active at 95, attempting to walk a mile every day, and with stairs to negotiate in his home.  He also keeps his brain going with current affairs and his participation in our events - along with singing and acting in his own Mens’ Club (called a ‘Shed’, in Britain).

Most of us in church are over 21, and therefore have reached the age of majority, so I suggest (gently) that we all make a real effort to achieve our centuries in as good health - or better - than we are in now!

Philip+