What do we first think when we read or hear of someone who has died before, say, 70? One, that they might have had bad genes. We often hear ourselves or others talk about the longevity of parents or grandparents and so on, finishing with, “so I guess we have good genes.” Not “longevity” genes but good genes, as if longevity itself is a virtue, the Castro brothers and Chairman Mao notwithstanding. And two, that to have died younger than average probably entailed bad habits. That is, when we read that John Smith has died at age 63, we think, well, he probably smoked or drank too much or never ate his greens. As if, that is to say, we can all live a long and comfortable life if we have good genes and good habits.
Every day on the Today show, Al Roker shows us pictures of centenarians on the labels of Smucker’s jam and congratulates them on their longevity. Each woman (and most are woman) is said to be beautiful, which is a lie because no one is beautiful physically at age 100 and we all know it, but that is a little white lie. But we are often told what they attribute to their great age; “And Mrs. Rosenkrutch attributes her longevity to a glass of wine every Saturday night!” We like that – she has a little fun, but not too much. She is moderate and deserves her long life because of this virtue of moderation. Thus, if we have good genes and a good lifestyle, we will be given a long life. Thus, virtue is found in living longer and living longer is a virtue. Thus, as the competitor in us thinks, “I’m going to outlive you, sucker, and show you who’s the better man!”
Of course, the health care people will tell you that this is statistically so, but none of us are statistics – each of us has a God-given time limit, or a fate if you prefer, about which we can do nothing. Says the Gospels (my paraphrase): “Don’t build up your barns for storage, for death is like a thief in the night and may come at any moment. You fool, for God has chosen to take you this very night!” It is, rather, a virtue to live as if one will die tomorrow and be judged on one’s actions, rather than to count on having plenty of time to do the right thing later on. Now is the time, and life is for relationships, with others and with God. Longevity is simply a quality like black hair or straight teeth.
The Christians, then, would have us believe that it is not the quantity of years that we have, or the size of our barns, that make us virtuous, but how we live those years that we do have. For Alan Watts, the vicar-turned-Buddhist, it is something a little different. We are like the waves of an ocean, each crest dependent necessarily on the trough, each life on death, each thing on empty space. We cannot have one without the other, and so neither is by itself a greater virtue (we cannot even have right behavior without wrong behavior, but that is another and thornier issue). But here the Buddhist and the Christian coincide: right living is not for tomorrow, or for the past (in memory of failures and successes), but for NOW, for that is the only sure time that we have. For the Christian, he may look to his relationships, and for the Buddhist, to the NOW, but for both, they should be aware that they are part of the same ocean; that one’s crest depends on the trough or crest of another; that is, that all is relationship.
Further, whether one’s wave is larger or smaller than the other is immaterial, for life is flux, and the big wave will becoming the bigger trough – which might become the small wave later on. To brag of living long is to brag of being the bigger wave – an absolutely ridiculous idea of virtue in the concept of the forever changing ocean. Also, to be smug about one’s good genes and good habits is to build the barn for tomorrow – that is, it allows one to hold off on living in true virtue with one’s fellows until later, because, what the heck, one has the time.
But as Jesus said, “You fool! God has chosen to take you this very night!”
It is up to us in some ways to live longer, but living long is not a virtue itself, at least according to more than one sage. In the end, I think what the competition for living longer is all about is control over death, which is just another form of denial. We cannot stop death, no matter our way of life. We should try to see, I think, that death is not pure evil, but the other side of life, which is undeniably true. Not that this gives me ultimate comfort - I still eat my greens. But in the end, what the sages say is beyond doubt: we are not in control over the long term, but are simply crests of waves in an ongoing pattern of relationships. In this we should not worry. Instead, we should live for the day, as if every other person, every other wave, were connected - as they really, ultimately are, regardless of the size of their barns or their eating habits. FK