In his book “Insane for the Light: A Spirituality for Our Wisdom Years,” Ronald Rolheiser draws on insights from Father Richard Rohr, a very popular author of spiritual books. Rolheiser writes the following:
“For Rohr, even though we may all reach the second half of life through different journeys, at a certain point, somewhere between the ages of 50 and 70, we all stand on exactly the same plane, looking at exactly the same options for our future. Then, regardless of how we got there, we all have the same three options, and only those options: we can age into a ‘pathetic old fool’; or we can age into an ‘angry old fool’; or we can age into a ‘holy old fool.’ Notice what is common among the three: Some day we will all be old fools. We will be marginalized by society, struggle with an aging body that is breaking down, and be conscious of the fact that we are no longer needed as we once were. We all will be old fools, but we get to choose what kind of old fool we will be: pathetic, angry, or holy” (p.24).
A pathetic old fool has never accepted his age and is trying to stay young somehow. There is nothing wrong with trying to stay healthy, but not to face growing old is not healthy. An angry old fool is bitter at growing old. Rolheiser points out that psychologists tell us that, with an angry old fool, all the anger stored up in life breaks through. Rolheiser suggests that this may be the primary psychological danger as we age. What about the “holy fool”? Rolheiser writes the following:
“A holy old fool is someone who is at peace inside her own skin and, because of that, emits a certain peace, order, and joy to those around her. A holy old fool is someone who has accepted the debilitation and marginalization that comes with age; has sufficiently grieved her wounds, her disappointments, and the injustices she has experienced in her life and forgiven everything and everybody. … A holy old fool is okay with being old and is okay with the hand that life has dealt her” (p. 26).
Re-reading Rolheiser’s book as I am writing this series of columns on offering our deaths to those we love has been an especially interesting experience. I can see how Rolheiser is gradually building toward his view that how we die can be the most important gift that we can offer others. I imagine I would not find it challenging to outline the book because, on rereading, it has become clearer to me how Rolheiser is building his argument step by step.
I think potential readers would be mistaken to skip any of the early pages of the book. Each page of the book is a step toward Rolheiser’s conclusion and the striking claims he makes about our death being the most important gift we can give to those we love.
I found Rolheiser’s reflections on vocation especially provocative. He borrows from New York Times columnist David Brooks and others from whom Brooks borrows. Rolheiser writes the following:
“Carl Jung once defined vocation this way: ‘an irrational factor that destines a man to emancipate himself from the herd and from its well-known paths.’ Frederick Buechner, the famed preacher, submits that a vocation is ‘where … your deep gladness meets the world’s hunger.’ Brooks quotes them both and then adds that a vocation is not something we choose but rather something that chooses us. When we sense it as a possibility in our lives, we also sense that we do not have a choice but can only ask ourselves, What is my responsibility here? It is not a matter of what we expect from life but rather what life expects from us. Moreover for Brooks, once we have a sense of vocation, it becomes unthinkable to turn away, and we sense that we would be morally culpable if we did” (p. 29-30).
How do we know we have a vocation? Rolheiser suggests the following:
“The answer usually comes as a hook in our conscience, as something being asked of us, as something we cannot morally turn away from, and as something we might initially resist. A vocation chooses us and makes the commitments for us — and those commitments put us in that place in the world where we are best placed to serve others and to find happiness” (p. 30).
I know that I am going to reflect more on Rolheiser’s view of vocation. Everything he says about vocation is beautiful, but are all the beautiful statements true? I guess all who read the book will have to answer that question for themselves.
Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica. His new book, “The Cosmic Love Story: God and Us,” is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble.