An interesting take on aging by a 95 year old which proves Methodism can be good for your health physically as well as spiritually. Originally published by Theology Everywhere February 24th 2025.

‘Age is just a number’ – they say.

by Josie Smith.

In January, rather to my surprise, I achieved my ninety-fifth birthday. The oldest inhabitant at my church is 106, and the next in line is 98, and you have only to read the obituaries in the Methodist Recorder to discover that Methodism does longevity rather well on the whole.

What about some Thoughts to encourage you youngsters, then?   A friend of mine less than half my age told me that he couldn’t imagine how it feels to be So Old.  There I have the advantage – I know how it feels to be his age, because I have been there.   I told a young friend at church recently that the nice thing about ‘being a has-been’ is that ‘you once were’.  Her witty response lifted my spirits. ‘You’re not a has-been’ she said decisively ‘You’re very much Current Affairs, you are!’ My church is a good place to be – everyone counts, from the youngest regular attender whose age can be measured in weeks, and though I might appear to be a fragile antique, my input to discussions and decisions is not only sought but heard, and even acted upon when it accords with ‘the feeling of the meeting’.

What then does it feel like to be 95? It’s thirty years since I retired from my last Proper Job, with the Home Mission Division as it was then, and since then it’s been voluntary work of various sorts, and following my interests. And now I have slowed down.

A sort of balance sheet might be in order.   

Aspects of being Very Old: BAD – energy levels and physical strength are (only just) adequate for me to live more or less independently. It takes me four times as long to do anything as it used to, and I need two sticks to walk. (Try carrying anything while both hands are thus occupied!) I gave up my car around my 93rd birthday when I was awaiting complex surgery and using my accelerator foot became too painful. I am recognised to be housebound now, which brings me to GOOD – if I need a Covid jab or a blood test the medical people come to me, and appear to enjoy meeting a non-standard nonagenarian. I do have a regular lift to church on Sunday mornings, which is much appreciated, but our services are live-streamed – GOOD – so that I can take part from home if necessary.

But BAD – Ageism! I keep getting invitations through my door to move to one of the several local care homes, where I should ‘find new friends with whom I have a lot in common.’ Who says? ‘Being Old’ does not guarantee having a lot in common with everybody else who is old, merely because we were born a long time ago – though the requirement to love my neighbour is always part of the deal. One of the things I loved doing as a freelance broadcaster was to visit care homes and talk with some of the residents. What rich and varied lives they had led, and what entertaining stories they told. Many of those voices live on, safely archived in the history department of the local university.

BAD also is the assumption that old = lonely. I love people, but I am also perfectly content if I don’t see anyone for days. I enjoy my own company too. And that of a houseful of books. I am very deaf, so find radio a trial (difficult for a has-been broadcaster to confess that) and always need subtitles – often hilariously ill-translated – for my rare bits of television watching. I can’t hear the telephone ringtone, and even if I could, I can’t move fast enough to reach it before it takes a message instead.

GOOD – I can tell people I love them without embarrassment, which in a religion which is built on love is positive – and at 95 unlikely to be misunderstood. GOOD – My understanding of ‘the World, the Universe and Everything’ is constantly evolving. My present church, an Anglican/Methodist Ecumenical Partnership, provides enough challenge to keep me on my toes. GOOD – I recognise that other faiths have an angle which adds to my own faith, and though I can no longer be an active Local Preacher I do get my turn leading intercessory prayers and reading for services. Even a bit of Am. Dram. if I can do it sitting down. We had a Christingle service on Christmas Eve in which I was the both the Narrator and the chief of the flock, called Ram (suitably clad in a sheepskin) and all the children were shepherds and Magi and Angels as we told the Nativity story from the point of view of the sheep.

And I can view the end of my life with equanimity. I have difficulty in understanding when people bring me ‘sad’ news of the death of someone at a ripe old age after a rich and fruitful life. It is the natural ending of the state of existence we call life, and it can be approached with joy. We as Christians surely know that.

Being alive has not all been sweetness and light for me. I have survived early bereavement, cancer, sepsis, a cracked skull and a fractured femur, as well as lots of minor ailments, accidents, other broken bones and what are known as ‘surgical procedures’. I have been at enough deathbeds to know that it is often a relief when it comes. Death is revealed not as an enemy but as a friend.

So onward and upward, friends! Whatever the state of the world (and of those with the ambition to control it) God will be with you on the journey.