I stole the title of this blog. Over 40 years ago I found an article in a Christian magazine on the importance of critical thinking; it came with that title. (The same title has been since used in other publications.) The author was obviously playing off Normal Vincent Peale’s popular but lopsided book, The Power of Positive Thinking. I don’t remember much of the content of the article (or its author), but the title stuck and continues to temper my own thinking.
Negative thinking as a positive
force is a counter-intuitive wisdom. Its purpose is to confront and balance
non-critical uninformed optimism: “God’s in his heaven; all’s right with the
world.” Those of us who grew up in the church were instructed to “climb climb
up sunshine mountain, faces all aglow,” and to celebrate with “I’m so happy and
here’s the reason why—Jesus took my burdens all away.” Actually, those songs
have their place in spiritual formation; they contain truth. Just not all the
truth.
There were times in my childhood when
my climb up sunshine mountain was interrupted by ravines and the only glow on my
face came from tears. Not so happy. Burdens that didn’t just disappear. It kept
Sunday school separate from my “real” life.
The need for a healthy balance
between positive and critical thinking certainly applies to aging and how our
culture sees the process of growing older. Negative stereotypes abound, of
course, but so do the optimistic denials of old age. Consider the label, “The
Golden Years.” “The best is yet to be.” “Life begins at 70.” “I’m 80 years
young!” “You’re only as young as you…. (fill in the blank).”
Consider the shaky comfort of this
popular American ditty: “Darling, we are growing old,/ Silver threads among the
gold/…. Yet, my darling, you will be/ Always young and fair to me.” Wayne
Booth, in his fine book, The Art of Growing Older: Writers on Living and Aging,
critiques this claim:
Always young and fair? Always? Of
course, the speaker… surely knows very well that if he (could the song work if
sung by a woman?) and his faithful love stay together, one of them will face a
time when the other one is no longer even in the wildest effort of the
imagination young and fair.
Perhaps Booth is a little too
harsh in his criticism. Maybe some grandpas are blessed with an ability to see
beauty where others can’t. When Hal tells me I’ve never looked better, if I can
avoid a mirror, I almost believe him. Love affects vision.
The long-term retirement community
where I live has an attractive web site, intended to inform and to attract
clients. It’s publicity (among other things) so of course the “old” residents featured
are all well-dressed, energetic, and very attractive. (Why wasn’t I chosen?)
They are walking around our beautiful campus, holding hands, or engaged in
interesting activities. They’re all real residents, my friends, but none of them
will stay young and active forever. Most of our residents don’t look that way
as they struggle with the various challenges (and for some, horrors) of aging.
But, as I noted, publicity is publicity.
The organization just finished
construction of a beautiful four-story complex where residents will live in the
final stages of life. It will provide several levels of care from assisted
living, to memory care, and then to 24/7 skilled care to people close to death.
The rooms are large and comfortable, almost all with large windows and lovely
views. We’re all happy about it (although some of us still miss the meadow and
trees it replaced). Someday, if I mange to stick around, I will live there. If
I’m still able to perceive my surroundings, I know I’ll appreciate a room with
a view.
But there’s something funny about
the name. The old health center, which we have outgrown, was known as the Charles
Beals Health Center. It seemed appropriate. But we have been instructed not to
call the new building a Health Center. It is Charles Beals Plaza. Apparently this
portrays a more positive image. But Plaza is a name that goes better with a name
like Hilton. The Hilton Plaza. Our director has jokingly told us that if we
call the new facility a health center, we’ll be fined a dollar. Each time.
Even so, the place really is a
health center, dedicated to the most vulnerable residents among us. It’s all
about health and loving care toward the end of life and I wish the name could
reflect the reality. (I have a feeling I’ll end up owing a lot of money.)
I’ve just finished reading the books of Jeremiah and Lamentations, two of the least optimistic books of the Bible. Through much of the books, the negative overshadows the positive. And with reason. It covered one of the most grim periods in the history of God’s chosen people—times of apostasy, war, captivity, deportation, famine, and death. A time when hope floated level to the ground.
In Lamentations 3, the prophet
cries out to a God that he’s not sure is even listening. His complaints are
serious. He throws up to the Almighty some grizzly scenarios: walking in
darkness, weighed down with chains, mangling by lions, piercings by the arrows
of God, and so on. Not all of this was metaphor. I found one of the curses
especially troubling; the prophet accuses God by saying, “He has made my skin
and flesh grow old and has broken my bones” (3:4). Old age as a curse. Scary
thought.
Of course, there in the center of
that same Chapter 3, the prophet thanks God for his everlasting faithfulness
and great love. We take courage from these words. But then he goes right back
to the anguish and laments. What this book in particular tells me is that it’s
OK to name the darkness and cry out our bleak prayers, even when we can’t sense
God’s presence. The Psalms are also full of this kind of brutal lament. Even
Jesus cried from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!”
Pretty negative.
I’m wrestling a bit here, trying
to find a healthy balance between a positive, joyful, grateful attitude and a
brave realism as I look at the coming years.
Maybe the Apostle Paul puts it
best, in a unity of realism and incredible hope: “Therefore we do not lose
heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed
day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal
glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Corinthians 4:16-17).
Sounds even better than a room
with a view.
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