A Holy Obligation

Rev. Mimi McDowell

When I grow up, I want to be like Sally. Sally turned 91 a few months ago. I visited her recently in her new home. She just moved to a small one-bedroom apartment at a retirement community, leaving the townhome where she had lived for many years. She wasn’t forced to move though. Sally made the decision herself because she knew the time had come.

Unlike many people, who minimalize or deny the effects of aging, Sally is very honest about it. When I visited with her at a church function a few months ago, Sally said to me, “I am fine, but I have had a few falls lately. I haven’t been hurt, but it has begun to concern me. When the time comes that I don’t need to live alone, I am going to move to an assisted living facility. I don’t want to put that burden on my family. They have been so good to me, but they should not have to be forced to make that decision for me.” Sally didn’t want her family to feel obligated to take care of her; so when the time came, she made the decision for herself.

Lauren Winner tells us that Jewish tradition holds that “the aged are not to be dismissed or ignored, but honored.” (Mudhouse Sabbath, p. 94) And with that comes an obligation to care for our elders. An obligation that is, at times, simple and joyous; and at its most difficult it is often exhausting and burdensome. We don’t often like to think in terms of obligation. It seems to me to carry a tone of legalism, and there is some truth in that. An obligation is a binding promise, a contract, a sense of duty. It requires our faithful attention to the person or task at hand. But it isn’t an empty, meaningless contract. In fact, as Winner points out, obligations are the bedrock of our relationship with God and they govern many of our relationships with others.

Let’s face it, we are all aging. I am now 54 years-old and, almost daily, I notice something new about this aging body – a new ache or pain, increasing difficulty in reading the small print, a new wrinkle here or there, or the way the fat seems to shift to new places in my body. But, if I am lucky, I will live to age as gracefully as Sally. Yet no matter how I age, I won’t live forever. As the saying goes, “None of us are getting out of here alive.”

So today I met with an attorney to discuss my Last Will and Testament. I made decisions about how my assets and possessions will be disbursed after my death. Not a particularly cheery thing to think about, but a necessary one. I also executed a Durable Power of Attorney that gives another person the authority and, dare I say, the obligation to care for me if/when I am no longer able to do it myself. I chose a person whom I love and trust implicitly and one who I know will take this obligation very seriously. Because, in the end, what more sacred and holy obligation can there be than to care for ones we love? Seems like I remember Jesus saying something about that …

“This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)