“How old are you?” This is not a good question. Fighting words for some. On the one hand, we try to defy and deny the aging process. On the other hand, longevity and “health-span” are all the rage in wellness circles. We say about cars, “it’s not the years but the miles.” I heard someone say that about people. How high is your mileage? You may have heard of dog years. I told a friend about “preacher years.” Preacher years measures a pastor’s life multiplying their age by the average number of sermons preached per week.
After Pharaoh offered Joseph the best of the land for his family, he met Joseph’s father, Jacob. His first question was, “How old are you?” I wish we had a recording so we could hear the intonation of the Egyptian ruler’s voice. Was Pharaoh’s question informational or observational? Either way, I like Jacob’s answer. “I have lived to be 130, not as old as my ancestors. But my years have been hard.” Jacob was a high-mileage 130 years of age.
What can we do even better as we age? Twice the narrator tells us that Jacob blessed Pharaoh. In the New Testament we learn that the greater blesses the lesser. True, Pharaoh was the King who had the food. But Jacob was the father of the son who interpreted Pharaoh’s dream and saved the lives of so many people. People who have served God for a long time through hard times know how to bless others well. In some cultures, age is not disparaged but honored. The church should be this way. Who can forget Lester Collins and Clint Bateman singing, “The longer I serve him, the sweeter he grows”? We have all lived long enough to bless others. Will we? Let’s bless others in the name of the Ancient of Days.
