Time on Earth

Time on Earth

Moses writes in Psalm 90, “The years of our lives are seventy; or even by reason of strength eighty… they are soon gone, and we fly away.” We live in a time where everything is seemingly immortalized in film or on record. With ever improving and expanding media technology, moments of time are becoming easier to capture and reproduce over and over again.

Whether it was Michael Jordan at the slam dunk contest, the Moon Landing, or the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, the last 100 years or so have been captured on film, and are now readily available at any time for anyone with an internet connection to replay over and over again. The nearly universal fixation that some of these recorded events created amongst American and international audiences has given credit to the notion that their memory is both of extreme importance and lasting significance. Things of small importance often get placed along side or overshadow things of greater significance.

It’s no wonder that since the advent of television, our culture has increasingly embraced and placed a high value on youth and beauty, or, “cool” as one might say. If you want an audience and you need to sell advertising, get the best looking people you can find. I can’t help but think that all of this has made us a bit unwilling to cope with aging and mortality. There seems to be little popular value set on the wisdom of years. Furthermore, there seems to be little recognition of the fact that these things will pass away, and then what will become of them?

This all hits home with me when I look at many of the rock musicians which have meant so much to me. Rock music especially creates this illusion of endless youth. While I tend to prefer older, wiser, more refined artists to young upstarts, I can’t deny that I am often drawn to those older artists as they were in their younger years as much or more than the way they are now.

This weekend I saw U2’s concert film U23D with my wife and some friends. Beforehand there was a preview for a new movie/documentary about The Rolling Stones. No one can deny that age has cought up to the Stones. Yet this fact was made painfully obvious by the footage of a young Mic Jagger from the 60s telling an interviewer he never thought the band would last two years, much less become a popular success.

This prompted me to consider a question I’ve considered before: will the Stones ever die or will they just getting older and older, and when they do die, what effect will it have on the Baby Boomer generation who have embraced their seeming (in some strange way) agelessness? All of this put me in a somber mood for the actual film about U2.

The Stones may have a 20 year head start on U2, but as cool as U2 still looks now, before you know it, their faces will be saggy like Keith Richards’ is. Will they still continue to tour as old men, putting on an act which is more suited to those in their teens or early twenties? More importantly, what would my reaction as a fan be if, say tomorrow, The Edge dies in a car wreck or Adam Clayton is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Sure, maybe Bono lives to be old and grey and turn grunge songs into gospel tunes like Johnny Cash did in his older years. But eventually, Bono’s years are gone and he will soon fly away.

One of my new favorite bands is Crowded House. After not releasing an album since 1993, they released a new album last summer called Time on Earth. As if original drummer Paul Hester’s suicide in 2005 wasn’t enough to remind me of my inevitable end, I couldn’t help but notice that singer Neil Finn’s formerly pristine voice was a step lower and a bit more gravely than it was in 1993. I shook my head and thought to myself, “I hate it when that happens, but I guess everyone gets old eventually."

Another of my favorites, Genesis, have been touring again with Phil Collins for the first time in 15 years as well. For some reason, I had been debating in my mind today whether or not it would be a good idea for them to try to record a new album. There is something about the band that exists in the past - twenty or thirty years in the past - which seems like it could be ruined by a modern recording experiment.

As I watched Bono belt out classic U2 songs the other night, I was watching for the moments where his voice just didn’t hold up like it did in the days of Rattle and Hum. Ironically, Bono sang a near perfect rendition of the ode to his deceased father, Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own, nailing the song’s climactic high notes. However, his voice didn’t fare quite as well on the concert closer With or Without You. I realize it was the end of the show. But the album recording of With or Without You is one of those moments on record that was near perfect. That moment is gone, and one day, Bono’s voice will be also.

This isn’t to demean Bono or U2, or suggest that they should hang it up. The band is still great, and I look forward to what they will produce as they continue to age gracefully. It’s to remind others of the fact that the here and now is passing, in spite of the illusion of immortality that recorded media often presents to us. I also have to remind myself that many of these things I find so important are not that significant. Age is to be valued because with it comes wisdom. And rather than assuming that youth is superior to old age, we should look to those with life experience to guide us.

Moses tells us to look to One who is everlasting, and seek the wisdom that comes only through the knowledge of Him: “So teach us to number our days, that we may get a heart of wisdom.”

And I must be wise somehow
Cause my heart’s been broken down
It’s so far to fall
And so hard to climb
Nothing sadder I know
Than the passing of time
You won’t forget me, you won’t forget me...
- Neil Finn