When the Beatitudes become visible

Today is the second of three consecutive days when I am presiding at the parish daily Mass. The three gospels are all taken from Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount. What follows is really one longer reflection delivered over three days because these three Gospel passages form a remarkably coherent sequence. They are not merely three disconnected sections of the Sermon on the Mount; they describe a progression in Christian discipleship:

  • Who we are becoming (The Beatitudes) – yesterday
  • What our lives are meant to do (Salt and Light) – today
  • The foundation upon which we live (Fulfillment of the Law) – tomorrow

Together they form a unified theme: The Shape, the Mission, and the Foundation of the Christian Life.

In yesterday’s reflection, we noted that the Beatitudes remind us that God is not simply interested in improving our behavior. The challenge of the first reflection was: what kind of person is God shaping me to become? Jesus’ hope is that the transformation of our hearts will shape our lives as Christians. 

Our Lives Visible to the World

Today Jesus’ goal is to show us what happens when that Christian life becomes visible. Jesus tells the disciples, “You are the salt of the earth….You are the light of the world.” Notice that Jesus does not say, “You should try to become salt” or “You should try to become light.” He says, “You are.” Such is the commission of our Baptism. The question is whether we are living in a way that fulfills that identity.

Salt changes whatever it touches. Light transforms darkness simply by being present. That is what happens when the Beatitudes become real in a person’s life. A merciful person changes the atmosphere of a family. A peacemaker changes the atmosphere of a workplace. A person who hungers and thirsts for righteousness changes the atmosphere of a community. It is the difference between being a thermometer that just reflects the temperature of the room and being a thermostat that sets the temperature.

The world often imagines that such influence comes from power, wealth, status, or attention. Jesus offers another vision. The disciple influences the world not primarily through position, but through witness.

Think of the people who have most influenced your faith. They were probably not famous. They may have been a parent, grandparent, teacher, coach, friend, priest, or religious sister. Their influence came from the way they lived. Their lives were the salt that seasoned your life; the light that reflected Christ into your world.

That is what Jesus means when he says: “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.” The goal is not that people notice us. The goal is that people see something of God through us. What we have received from others, we pay forward by the lives we live.

Yesterday we asked: Who is God shaping me to become? Today we ask: What effect does that transformed life have on others? The answer is simple: a life formed by the Beatitudes becomes salt for and light that changes the world.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

Who are we becoming?

Today is the first of three consecutive days when I am presiding at the parish daily Mass. The three gospels are all taken from Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount. What follows is really one longer reflection delivered over three days because these three Gospel passages form a remarkably coherent sequence. They are not merely three disconnected sections of the Sermon on the Mount; they describe a progression in Christian discipleship:

  • Who we are becoming (The Beatitudes) – today
  • What our lives are meant to do (Salt and Light) – tomorrow
  • The foundation upon which we live (Fulfillment of the Law) – the next day

Together they form a unified theme: The Shape, the Mission, and the Foundation of the Christian Life.

Who we are becoming (The Beatitudes)

In today’s Gospel, Jesus goes up the mountain, sits down, and begins to teach. His first words are not commands. He does not begin by telling his disciples what they must do. Instead, he describes the kind of people who belong to the Kingdom of God. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of heaven…Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy…Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”

When we hear the Beatitudes, it is tempting to hear them as a checklist of virtues. But they are more than that. They are a portrait of Jesus himself. Jesus is poor in spirit, trusting completely in the Father. Jesus is merciful toward sinners. Jesus is pure of heart. Jesus is the peacemaker who reconciles humanity to God through the Cross. In other words, the Beatitudes show us what a life transformed by God looks like.

This is important because we often think about our life of faith in terms of activities: attending Mass, praying, serving others, following commandments. All of these are important. But before Christianity is about what we do, it is about who we are becoming. It is about God shaping us into the likeness of Christ.

That shaping often happens quietly. We become merciful by learning to forgive. We become humble by recognizing our dependence on God. We become peacemakers by choosing reconciliation over resentment. Most of us do not become saints through dramatic moments. We become saints through daily conversion.

The Beatitudes remind us that God is not simply interested in improving our behavior. He is transforming our hearts. 

As we begin this three-day journey through the Sermon on the Mount, let us ask ourselves: What kind of person is God shaping me to become? Because before Jesus speaks about our mission in the world, he first teaches us the shape of the Christian life.


Image credit: Sermon on the Mount (1877) by Carl Heinrich Bloch, Museum of National History at Frederiksborg Castle, Public Domain

D-Day Remembered

Today marks the 82nd anniversary of the June 6th “D-Day” landings in Normandy during World War II. It marked a turning Point in World War II as it provided the Allies with a foothold in Western Europe and set the stage for the subsequent liberation of France and the defeat of Nazi Germany. The Normandy landing resulted in significant casualties on both sides, with thousands of soldiers losing their lives. It remains a powerful symbol of the bravery and sacrifice of the soldiers who fought and gave their lives for the cause of freedom and the defeat of tyranny. The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, situated on the shores of Omaha Beach, serves as a poignant reminder of the cost of war and the importance of preserving peace.

Today and, no doubt, in the days to follow, we will have the opportunity to hear the voices of those who landed and remain with us today. Given those who landed were 18 years old and older, it means today’s survivors are in their late 90s. It is the passing of a generation. On Sunday, there was a parade of veterans at Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. The veterans were all in wheel chairs as the were greeted by thousands of locals who orally history still carry the stories of their liberation from Nazi forced.

Let us offer a prayer in gratitude for all who served in World War II, their families, and the great sacrifices offered for this nation and the world.

Like a Refiner’s Fire

The heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire” (2 Peter 3:12). Yikes! That was a hard start to our first reading. To modern ears, the language sounds catastrophic, end of the world kind of stuff. “Frightening” would be a bit of an understatement. If we had not told you it was from 2 Peter you would have probably thought it was from Revelation.

Yet for Peter’s original audience, the passage was intended less as a threat than as a call to perseverance and hope. The letter is addressed to Christians who were growing weary because Christ had not returned as soon as they expected. Earlier in the chapter, Peter mentions scoffers who ask, “Where is the promise of his coming?” (3:4). Some were beginning to doubt whether God’s promises would ever be fulfilled. Peter responds in three ways:

First, God’s timetable is not ours. “The Lord does not delay his promise” (3:9). What seems like delay is actually divine patience. God is giving humanity time to repent. Just before our reading, Peter instructed the people that “With the Lord one day is like a thousand years and a thousand years like one day. The Lord does not delay his promise, as some regard delay, but he is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” (2 Peter 3:8-9) Peter is likely echoing the psalmist: “A thousand years in your sight are as yesterday, now that it is past, or as a watch of the night.” (Ps 90:4)

Second, the present world is not ultimate. The imagery of fire is drawn from the Jewish prophetic tradition. Fire often symbolizes God’s judgment, purification, and renewal. Peter’s point is not to provide a scientific description of cosmic destruction but to proclaim that evil, injustice, and sin will not have the last word. The prophet Malachi writes: “He is like a refiner’s fire… He will sit refining and purifying silver.” (Malachi 3:2-3). A refiner does not throw silver into the furnace to destroy it. The fire burns away impurities so that the silver becomes what it was meant to be.

Third, Christians should live now according to the future God is preparing. Because believers await “new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwell” (3:13), they are called to holiness, peace, and steadfastness. The emphasis falls not on fear of destruction but on hope for renewal.

In our times we face a different challenge but a similar temptation. We often become discouraged when God’s kingdom seems slow to appear. Wars continue, injustice persists, and the Church itself experiences weakness and scandal. Like Peter’s audience, we can wonder whether God’s promises are really unfolding. Peter’s answer remains relevant:

  • God’s patience should not be mistaken for absence.
  • History is moving toward God’s purposes, even when we cannot see it.
  • Christians are called to live as citizens of the coming kingdom now.

The “new heavens and new earth” remind us that Christianity is not merely about escaping the world but about God’s intention to transform and renew creation.

There is an interesting contrast in the passage. Everything that appears permanent—the heavens, the earth, the structures of this world—will pass away. Yet the one thing that endures is what is rooted in God: faith, holiness, righteousness, and grace. Peter is essentially asking: If everything else is temporary, what kind of life is worth building? His answer comes at the end of the reading: “Grow in grace and in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (3:18).

The Christian response to an uncertain future is neither fear nor speculation about the end times. It is growth in holiness, confidence in God’s promises, and faithful discipleship today. Things come and go, but we are called to keep our eyes fixed on the world God is bringing to birth.


Image credit: Created by ChapGPT, May 31 2026 | “The heavens will be dissolved in flames and the elements melted by fire” (2 Peter 3:12)

Share in the Divine Nature

In today’s first reading we are given a goal: “that you may come to share in the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). Wow! This is one of the most profound statements in the entire New Testament. It has played a central role in Christian theology, especially in the Eastern Christian tradition, where it is often called theosis or divinization. But the first thing to note is what Peter does not mean. He does not mean that human beings become gods by nature, cease to be creatures, or somehow merge into God’s essence. The distinction between Creator and creature remains. Yet Peter is saying something astonishingly positive: through Christ, human beings are invited into a real participation in God’s own life.

The fuller verse reads: “He has bestowed on us the precious and very great promises, so that through them you may come to share in the divine nature, after escaping from the corruption that is in the world because of evil desire.” Notice the contrast: corruption versus divine life, sin versus holiness, and death versus immortality. Peter is describing the restoration of humanity to the destiny God intended from the beginning. Human beings were created in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-27). Through Christ, that image is renewed and brought to fulfillment.

A helpful parallel is found in John’s Gospel: “To those who did accept him he gave power to become children of God” (John 1:12). And in Paul’s letters: “All of us… are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18). The New Testament consistently teaches that salvation is not merely forgiveness of sins; it is participation in God’s own life.

The early Christian writers were remarkably bold in describing this mystery. Irenaeus of Lyons emphasized that Christ became what we are so that we might become what God intended us to be. He wrote: “The Word of God, our Lord Jesus Christ … became what we are, that He might bring us to be even what He is.” For Irenaeus, salvation is the restoration and completion of humanity.

Perhaps the most famous statement comes from Athanasius: “God became man so that man might become god.” This phrase can sound startling today, but Athanasius was not teaching that humans become divine beings independent of God. He meant that through union with Christ we share by grace what belongs to God by nature: immortality, holiness, righteousness, and communion with the Father.

Gregory of Nazianzus taught: “Let us become like Christ, since Christ became like us.” The Christian life is a process of transformation into Christ’s likeness. Augustine of Hippo also embraced this theme: “God became man, that man might become God.” For Augustine, participation in God means being drawn into the life of the Trinity through grace, not becoming divine in essence.

For Peter, sharing in the divine nature is not an abstract mystical concept. Immediately after this verse he lists virtues that should grow in the believer: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, endurance, godliness, mutual affection and love. The evidence of participation in God’s life is that a person increasingly reflects God’s character. One might say since God is love, holy, merciful, and faithful, then we are called to become those same things. The goal is not becoming less human but becoming fully human as God intended.

The Church Fathers provide a useful image: a piece of iron placed into a blazing fire. The iron remains iron. It does not become fire by nature. Yet it becomes glowing, radiant, and hot because it participates in the fire. So too, the Christian remains fully human. Yet through Christ, the sacraments, prayer, and the Holy Spirit, the believer becomes filled with the very life of God.

That is the astonishing promise Peter holds before his readers: salvation is not merely being rescued from something; it is being drawn into communion with God Himself, sharing by grace in what God is by nature. That is what Peter means by “share[ing] in the divine nature.


Image credit: Created by ChapGPT, May 31 2026 | “Iron being heated and glowing in fire”

Finding your way

As you may or may not know, in days long past, I served aboard U.S. nuclear submarines. There are lots of sea stories that I can tell. There are lots of questions I am asked about life aboard a submarine: how a submarine operates, if I did this one thing or another, but when I think about it, not too often do I get asked how do we know where we are going when we are underwater. There are lots of interesting questions that can be asked about submarine navigation while underwater. For example:

  • Why don’t we run into other submarines? Or undersea mountains? Or whales? 
  • Do we ever get lost?
  • How can submarines navigate without windows to see where we are going or GPS? Are we operating on educated guesswork? Do submarines have Google Maps?

The oceans are really big – you only see the surface. There is lots of space under the waves and there are not that many submarines, so it is not crowded. Besides there are imaginary highways of a kind and submarines get assignments. For example, “operate on Interstate 95 between exits 450 and 520 on this date, during these times” – and you know that you will be the only U.S. submarine there. So… just stay in your lane.

Of course, how do we know where the highways are? We have charts, inertial navigation, we can come to periscope depth to get a satellite fix, and we have other means that are top secret. And if nothing else works, we can, like navigators of old, take a fix on known stars and do the mathematics to obtain a celestial fix.

That’s how we know where we are, but how do we know what’s around us? We can come near the surface and raise the periscope or the optronics mast and see what’s there. Or we can stay submerged and listen. That’s right, listen. It is called passive sonar and especially trained sailors that use their ears and computers to analyze what they are hearing.

Submarines were super interesting back in my day and even more interesting now.

In just a little but we will conduct the “Ceremony of Light” when the soon-graduating 8th grade students “pass the light” of leadership and example to the current 7th graders, who next year will assume the example of moral and spiritual leadership among the student body. As such the reads for this special Mass talk about being the light of the world, not hiding your light, shining before others, and more.

The 8th graders shared their thoughts on the ceremony. Everyone wrote about the passing on of leadership, responsibility, and setting examples for the student body. There were some other comments that were insightful: 

  • Handing on the light was a marker in time: the end of adolescence and the first step into taking deeper responsibility for how life will turn out.
  • Handing on the light is a passing on of hope. Hope realized in our time at St. Francis and hope for the new future we are entering. 
  • Receiving the light is an act of commitment for the 7th graders. When you receive the light you are making a commitment to leading a holy way of life that will shine before students, teachers, staff and family.

To the 8th graders – thank you for your shining leadership and example. Soon you’ll be moving on to high school where you will observe the students in the upper class and see the light of their leadership and example. Pay attention, take notes about good examples and leadership and that which is, shall we say… not so good.

7th grader, the light is being passed to you: hope, holiness, and the responsibility of holy leadership. Be ready to receive the light and shine brightly.

And you might be wondering, how does all this connect with things “submarine”? I think submarine navigation adds new dimensions to living a Christian life – be it freshmen in high school or as 8th graders.

  • Like submarines, always remember to stay “in your lane.” You are part of a structure of leadership: the principal, staff, teachers, family. Take the best of their shining example and put it to use in “your lane.” And remember that structure has lots of experience.
  • Like submarines, there is more than just “seeing.”  Listen. As leaders you need to know what is required and what is needed. You can certainly ask (that akin to active sonar) but you can also listen (like passive sonar).
  • And when you are not sure what to do, come to periscope depth and look for directions. You can even celestial navigate because you have the bright shining stars of the experience of teachers, staff and parents.

Submarines can find their way in the darkness of the ocean’s depths by using all the tools available to them. Freshmen in high school and 8th graders can find their way in the coming new years. Use all the tools available to you: observe, listen, navigate, stay in your lane, and never hesitate to use the greatest resource of all:  prayer and the Holy Eucharist. May you continue to well navigate adolescence, be the light and hope for others, and continue your commitment to holiness. Do these and your light will surely shine for all to see.

Holy Living

Our first reading today, 1 Peter 1:10–16, comes near the beginning of the letter and follows Peter’s reflection on the living hope Christians have through the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. It has some expressions that might strike the modern listener as odd and so I thought it worth exploring a bit as it is a passage that moves from wonder at God’s plan of salvation to a practical call for holy living. Also, like today, Peter is writing to Christians facing trials, uncertainty, and social pressure. He reminds them and us that what we have received in Christ is the fulfillment of God’s long-awaited saving plan.

Here are the major points of the passage

  • Salvation is part of God’s long plan – the Old Testament points toward Christ and finds fulfillment in him.
  • Christians live within a privileged moment of salvation history – what prophets longed to see has now been revealed in Christ.
  • Christian faith requires transformation – belief is not merely intellectual; it reshapes life.
  • Holiness is the goal of discipleship – Christians are called to reflect God’s own life and character.

Peter says: “Concerning this salvation, prophets who prophesied about the grace that was to be yours searched and investigated it…” Peter teaches that the salvation revealed in Christ was not accidental or newly invented. The prophets of the Old Testament had already glimpsed it, though only partially. Folks like Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel spoke mysteriously about things such as the coming Messiah, suffering, redemption, and future glory. Yet they did not fully understand the timing or fullness of what God was preparing. Peter says the “Spirit of Christ” was already at work in them, pointing ahead to: the sufferings of Christ and the glory that would follow.  They received glimpses but as the letter to the Hebrews says, “In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets” (Heb 1:1) And they weren’t alone in their waiting and anticipation. These were “things into which angels longed to look.” (1 Peter 1:12) The author of Hebrews goes on to note what a privilege we have because “in these last days, he spoke to us through a son” (Hb 1:1-2) We got the whole message. A message that reveals the depth of God’s mercy in a way creation had never fully seen before.

This emphasizes the immense dignity and privilege of Christian faith: believers are living within the fulfillment of God’s saving mystery. And knowing that Peter says:“Therefore…” If this is your identity, then you belong to Christ and are called to live differently from the surrounding culture. “Therefore, gird up the loins of your mind, live soberly, and set your hopes completely on the grace to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”  This ancient expression referred to gathering up long robes in preparation for action, work, or battle. Peter applies the image spiritually: Christians must prepare their minds for disciplined, attentive discipleship. This means clarity, vigilance, self-control, and spiritual seriousness. Faith is not passive or sentimental. It is an active on-going call to holiness. “Be holy, because I am holy” (cf. Leviticus). Holiness in Scripture at its root means: belonging to God …  and so live like it. Live in a way in which the world sees your life

Peter reminds Christians remember who you are, remember what God has done, and let that shape how you live. This is your privilege, your mission,… your destiny.


St Peter Preaching in the Presence of St Mark | Fra Angelico, 1433 | Galleria Ufizi, Florence | PD-US

AI, the Terminator, and a Papal Encyclical

In the original Terminator movie (1984) – a somewhat Orwellian year to make such a movie – the Terminator, a cybernetic assassin has been sent back in time from 2029 to 1984 to assassinate Sarah Connor, whose not-yet-conceived son will one day save humankind from extinction by Skynet, a hostile artificial intelligence, in a post-apocalyptic future. Kyle Reese is a soldier sent back in time to protect Sarah. He has to explain the machine’s absolute ruthlessness to Sarah:

“Listen, and understand! That Terminator is out there! It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop… ever, until you are dead!”

In his just-released papal encyclical, Pope Leo writes: 

“So-called artificial intelligences do not undergo experiences, do not possess a body, do not feel joy or pain, do not mature through relationships and do not know from within what love, work, friendship or responsibility mean, nor do they have a moral conscience, since they do not judge good and evil, grasp the ultimate meaning of situations, or bear responsibility for consequences. They may imitate language, behavior and analytical skills, or even simulate empathy and understanding, but they do not understand what they produce, for they lack the affective, relational and spiritual perspective through which human beings grow in wisdom.” (#99)

The Pope warns that artificial intelligence needs to be “disarmed”. He notes: “The word is strong, I know, but deliberately chosen because this moment needs words capable of attracting attention.”  From a moral perspective it raises the question whether an AI-lead war at the strategic or tactical level can ever be considered a “just war” from the perspective of Catholic moral theology.

It has been 42 years since I first saw “The Terminator.”  Skynet seems a lot less fictional these days.

The Moral Task

The HISTORY Channel docuseries World War II with Tom Hanks begins today, Memorial Day. It is a 20-episode series premiering this Memorial Day. It was developed in collaboration with the National WWII Museum in New Orleans (an awesome museum – visit it if you ever get the chance!). When asked about his ongoing connection to WWII (Saving Private Ryan, Band of Brothers, The Pacific. Greyhound) and why he returns again to these projects, Hanks commented:

We’re not talking about Lord of the Rings or Game of Thrones or the Star Wars universe. We are talking about what, at the core of it all, is flesh and blood and the stasis of years asked of an entire generation—plus some—to say, “Put the present on hold. Your future doesn’t mean anything right now, because there is a moral task before us.”

It is that commitment of the men and women of our nation’s armed forces that remember and on this Memorial Day, we remember those who gave their lives because of the moral task before them.

What They Don’t Tell You About Getting Old

Today is my birthday and someone sent me this in anticipation of the years a decade ahead. I don’t know the source and online research did not reveal any clues, so credit to Roger Rosenblatt, the author.


I recently turned 83, and while there are many joys to getting older, getting out of taxis is not one of them.

What you don’t want to do is get your left foot caught under the front right seat before you try to swing your right foot toward the door; otherwise, you’ll topple over while attempting to pay the fare, possibly injuring your ankle, and causing the maneuver to go even more slowly. If you make it past the taxi door, there is still the one-foot jump to the street. You’re old. You could fall. Happens all the time.

And that’s when it’s just you in the taxi. If some other old person is with you — a friend, a spouse — there’s a real possibility of never getting out of the vehicle. You might live out the rest of your days in the back seat, watching Dick Cavett do real estate ads on a loop.

“Old People Getting Out of Taxis.” I was thinking of making a film with that title, if I knew how to make a film. Figure it would run four hours. I asked an actor friend, also old, if he’d star in it. His response: “If I can get out of my chair.”

It’s no joke, old age. It just looks funny. Mel Brooks latched on to this in his 1977 film “High Anxiety” with Professor Lilloman (pronounced “little old man”), a stock character who moves at a turtle’s pace, mumbles and whines as he goes, equally irritated and irritating.

I used to find the professor a lot funnier than I do now. Slow? Merely to rise to my feet in a restaurant takes so much angling and fulcrum searching, the waitstaff takes bets on whether I will do it at all.

Old age isn’t what the books promised it would be. Literature is littered with old people for whom the years have brought some combination of wisdom, serenity, authority and power — King Lear, the ageless priest in Shangri-La, Miss Marple, Mr. Chips, Mrs. Chips (I made that up), Dickens’s Aged P, crazy Mrs. Danvers. In fiction, old folks are usually impressive and in control. In life, something less.

I can’t think of anyone who has come to me for wisdom, serenity, authority or power. People do come to sell me life insurance for $9 a month and medicines such as Prevagen, which is advertised on TV as making one sharper and improving one’s memory. Of course, that is beneficial only to those who have more things they wish to remember than to forget.

One thing I need to remember is which day for which doctor. Two years ago, my wife and I moved back to New York City after 24 years of living by the sea. The city is safer, we thought — just in case we may ever need to be near medical facilities. Since our move, not a day has passed without one of us seeing a doctor, arranging to see one or thinking or talking about seeing one.

One day last week, I had a vascular sonogram in the morning, consulted my ophthalmologist in the afternoon, made an appointment with a retina specialist, spoke to my primary care physician about test results and put off my dentist. As a result of such activities, my vocabulary has increased. I now can say “occlusion” — and mean it. Has anyone seen my oximeter?

Activities such as getting out of a taxi are not only degrading and humiliating; they take so much effort, they simply make you tired. You may reasonably say, “Why not take the subway?” I would, except for the two hours needed to get up and down the stairs. Still, it’s all a matter of adjustment. It took me three or four years of taxi rides to finally admit to myself that I’m old.

Old. Even the word sounds like a sigh of surrender.

I wrote a book called “Rules for Aging” 25 years ago, when I used to leap in and out of taxis like a deer, if you can picture such a thing. The rules were less about aging than about living generally, one of the first being “Nobody’s thinking about you.”

In old age that’s true in spades. And that’s another of aging’s unnerving surprises. You disappear from the culture, or rather, it disappears from you. Young women and men shown on TV as world famous, you’ve never heard of. New idioms leave you baffled. You are Rip Van Winkle without having fallen asleep.

To be sure, old age has compensations. Grandchildren. Their company is delightful, partly because they think you have something useful to impart, if you could remember to impart it. Waitresses tend to treat you sweetly. Doormen and maintenance crews show respect. And there are positive or harmless activities for the over the hill. Women take up watercolors and form book clubs. Men find loud if pointless camaraderie in diners and on village benches all over the country. Hey, old-timer.

While here in the city, we hail taxis. And cringe to see whether the one we have hailed is a normal car, for normal people, or one of those sliding, clanging door jobs that require a forklift for entry. I’m not exaggerating — much.

My point is: Who ever expected to spend time wondering if Madison Beer is a beverage honoring a founding father? Who ever expected that one’s social circle would consist of Marie, who does blood work, and an M.R.I. technician named Lou? Who ever expected that getting out of a taxi would be so momentous an issue that one is a bundle of nerves planning exit strategies halfway through the ride? Who ever expected old age?


Image credit: Jelena Stanojkovic. | iStock photo ID:1716794244 | Standard iStock license | downloaded May 4, 2026