I don't have to worry about aging (Part 1)

There is also an aspect of the process of aging and decay that carries promise in the Christian world view: For the Christian, the outlook is not predominantly one of decay and frailty but of growth and maturity. Again, when I say "Christian" I have the "ideal Christian" in mind, the "Jesus-like Christian," the one who most Christians try to aspire to with various levels of success. 

The reason for that outlook is ironically based in failure. As I've said before, Christians believe that throughout all of history there has been only one person who lived a life devoid of any shortcomings: Jesus. And the "history" in this case includes the future. According to Christian belief, there never has been anyone else who, solely based on their ability, has been able to live a life completely pleasing to God. And there never will be. For Christians who are following Jesus as the ultimate model of how to live life, this means that we will never be completely successful.

I admit that this in itself doesn't sound particularly attractive. But another way of looking at this fills this very same concept with hope.

Christians try to emulate Jesus. While they will never reach the pinnacle of that endeavor, they're always on their way to that pinnacle. The Christian life is one long process of becoming more and more like Jesus. Now, just to make sure there is no misunderstanding, "becoming like Jesus" does not mean we have to copycat every single character trait we imagine Jesus to have or somehow try to recreate scenes from Jesus's life so we can be just like him. Instead, it means being as radical as Jesus in loving God and the people around us. That's it. (And—spoiler alert—it's really hard.)

To come back to that "process" mentioned above. A process implies that there is movement, progress. And that's exactly what Christians experience throughout their lives (provided that they continuously follow Jesus): They  experience growth. A growth that does not peak in their twenties or thirties or even in their forties and fifties. It's a growth that continues to the very last moment of life on this earth, to the very last breath a Christian takes. That's why the Christian life is not one of decline, and age is not something to dread. Yes, physical strength will cease and the mind may not be as sharp. But neither of those is related to faith and the continued growth that is the hallmark of the Christian life.

But still, you might point out, how can you possibly continue to pursue that path if it's littered with so many failures—the times you've failed to love the way Jesus did? The answer to this is rooted in God's forgiveness. As I mentioned before, Christians believe that when we ask God wholeheartedly for forgiveness, he will give that forgiveness right there and then. This means that not only do we have to feel no shame for whatever we asked him to forgive us for, but God will actually "forget" it. It's erased. There's no trace of it. There is one condition, though: The way we're told to ask is with all of our heart. This means we're asking for forgiveness for whatever we've done with the complete desire not to do it again. Even if we might know it's going to be hard or even impossible, our heart has to want it not to happen again.

This really is the key to why the progression toward a better life, even if we never quite get there, makes sense and becomes desirable. It's because there is faith in an all-knowing and perfect God who understands how people tick and pushes them in the right direction. Those people (us) naturally respond with thankfulness to the process of forgiveness and its self-cleaning aspects and the sense of a motion toward a better life.

Let me try to explain it in a different way.

Imagine that everyone in the world is part of an orchestra. Among all the musicians who are playing certain pieces by certain composers according to the way a certain conductor wants them to perform, there has only ever been one violinist or clarinet player or cellist who at all times has been completely in tune, who has played all the notes perfectly, whose pitch has never wavered. Not just for one piece or two, but all the time and without fail. 

It's out of this world how that musician is in tune with the composer, the conductor, and the spirit of the music. And it really is. It's not possible for others of the "world orchestra" to achieve that perfection, but it is possible for them to become better and better, becoming ever more like her. Needless to say this takes practice—in fact, a whole life's worth of practice. If you talk to musicians who play in ensembles or orchestras, they will tell you how wonderful and hard it is. It's hard because it takes so much effort and time and many, many experiences of failure. But it's wonderful because there is progress for each of these hard-working musicians, and there are times (as fleeting as they might be) when this state of complete harmony with composer, conductor, and music is actually reached. And that transcendence more than makes up for the sacrifice.

It's not a perfect illustration, but it might help a little.