The invitation came in the mail late last winter promising “great food and a good time!” I thought, “Sure, why not?” It had been over 40 years since I graduated and it was time to check in with my Berne Union classmates. I mentioned the reunion to Marilyn and returned our registration along with a check assuring our reservations for the banquet.
But when she reminded me last Friday that we were scheduled to be at the reunion the next day, I experienced a surprising reaction—I became anxious, even reticent, about going. I’ve never been a shy person, but I was apparently experiencing what shy people must experience.
As a minister, I speak to hundreds of people each week with little or no anxiety. But the idea of walking into a room full of people who knew me in the prime of my life caused my self-confidence to bottom out. My heart smiled and said, “Hey, these are the same people you laughed and joked with for years! Relax, they’ll be happy to see you.” But my head whispered, “But you’re not the same person you were 40 years ago… and, oh yeah, stay away from the full length mirror.”
I remember as though it was yesterday how I bragged to my classmates that I would never have to worry as I grew old about becoming overweight or bald. I boasted, “Heck, look at my dad, he’s nearly 60 and he stands 6’2”, skinny as a rail and eats everything in sight. Bald? Heck no, my Dad has a full head of silver hair, I’m golden! Besides everyone says I’m a chip off the old block.”
But then life happened. At about half past 30 my body began to rebel, to renege; it began to shift. I couldn’t cut to the basket as quickly as I always had, and someone had deviously moved first base further from the batter’s box. And then there was the Great Clothing Conspiracy of the 1980’s. I’m not sure who, but I suspect it was Taiwanese inspector #5 or #6, who sewed 30” waist tags onto 28” waist jeans with malicious intention. It was infuriating! I found it necessary to wear my jeans progressively lower and lower on my hips long before the hip-hop look was fashionable. It was the only way I could get “my regular size” to fit my shifting body.
Finally, I took a long hard look in the mirror and realized that in my youthful optimism, I had ignored several genetic clues. All these years I compared myself to dad who was tall and skinny with a full head of hair. Never had I considered my genetic connection to my darling little mother, whose height and width were in close proximity. Up to that point, I’d honestly never considered I was also my mother’s son. I didn’t have Dad’s thick, silver hair, but my dear mother’s thinning, mousy-grey hair.
I dug out a snapshot of my maternal grandfather and was startled to see myself looking back. There he stood, a mere 5’6”, completely bald, brandishing my goofy grin. He had his thumbs hooked into suspenders that were straining to keep his trousers atop his rotund midsection. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and in this case, a thousand revelations.
Fortunately, it also occurred to me that as a kid I didn’t measure grandpa’s worth by his girth, but by his kind heart and keen intellect. I took welcome solace in that thought. I felt a renewed affirmation, realizing this mortal coil is a waning proposition. The fight isn’t with our physical being, it’s with our inner being. Physical fitness is important, but the condition of our soul, our true inner self, is most important.
Jesus speaks directly to the idea of what’s on the inside is much more important than what’s on the outside.
“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds…
“Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.” Matthew 6:25-32 The Message
Turned out, I had a great time at the reunion. I discovered I wasn’t the only one who felt trapped in a body suit, wishing it could be unzipped to reveal the high school student trapped inside. I thoroughly enjoyed recognizing my old friends by looking into their eyes and not their outward appearance.