Don’t Die
And other lessons we aren’t supposed to learn on Ash Wednesday
“Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” Psalm 90:12
A few years ago, Time Magazine ran an article on a man named Bryan Johnson. Johnson, a 48 year old centi-millionaire, has invested millions in a project he calls Blueprint.
A team of doctors monitor him day and night and give him a strict health regimen that includes a highly specialized vegan diet, daily exercise, over a 100 pills a day, and frequent collecting of stool samples.
Blueprint is Johnson’s baby—a life-extension system whose goal is to reduce his biological age to 18 years old.
Anything that impedes this goal is not to be tolerated—whether that means having something (or someone) in his bedroom distracting from his necessary 8 hours of good sleep or having a cookie (which he calls an act of violence)
Johnson sees himself as a prototype, an experiment for the people of the 25th century who will benefit from his developments.
“Until now,” he says “I don’t think there’s been any time in history where Homo sapiens could say with a straight face that death may not be inevitable.”
He’s gained quite a following through his YouTube channel which gives full access to many of his ‘stats’ and measurements, including images taken with a “small bowel camera.”
There have been dozens of meetups across the country. His spiritual followers go on hikes, have picnics, and wear black t-shirts with the slogan emblazoned across them in white bold letters.
“DON’T DIE”1
This slogan couldn’t be further from the theme for today, Ash Wednesday.
This day ushers Christians all over the world into Lent, a 40 day season of repentance, where we prepare for the joy of Easter through prayer, fasting, and giving.
In world steeped in the message that we might be able to cheat death, the Scriptures of Lent, like Psalm 90, can be a shock to our systems.
“You turn mankind back to dust,” the Psalmist says.
“You sweep them away in their sleep.
In the morning they are like sprouting grass—in the morning it flourishes and springs up, by evening it withers and dries up.
For all our days have passed away under Your wrath.
We spent our years like a sigh.
The span of our years is seventy
—or with strength, eighty—
yet at best they are trouble and sorrow.
For they are soon gone, and we fly away.”
The Psalmists assessments of the human condition can seem pretty dire but they are clear: we are not going to live forever. Our lives are so short, in fact, that in the grand scheme of things, we are like grass that dries up the same day, like dust under the broom.
We are like dust.
At the hinge point of Psalm 90, the writer drops this gem:
“Teach us to number our days so that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
The Psalmist doesn’t say, “teach us to number our days so we can appreciate life more and live it to the fullest.” He says “teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
God, teach us to meditate on our death, to think about how short our life is. Teach us to number our days that we may be wiser and know your wisdom.
Eugene Peterson says the “meditated consideration of death is important because it teaches us….how to live as a human, not as a god.”
If you participate in an Ash Wednesday service today, you will be told some version of “remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.” You will receive ashes on your forehead to remind you of your fragility, both physically and spiritually.
In doing so, you will be participating in an ancient story, in an ancient practice, not to try to cheat death or seek out the good life but to seek a life of flourishing in Jesus, not only for yourself but for your neighbors.
That life of flourishing doesn’t begin in a CEO boardroom, a brightly lit stage, an Oval Office, a war room, in front of a ring light, a camera screen, or under the supervision of a team of doctors trying to de-age you.
It begins in suffering and death. It begins we remember that we are dust and that God holds it all.
Things to recommend:
The Injustice Report’s first hand account from Minneapolis.
The Raven Scholar, an epic fantasy and murder mystery by Antonia Hodgson.
The Artful Dodger on Disney Plus.
Preppy Kitchen’s peanut butter cookies (for after Lent, of course).
There is a Netflix documentary about Johnson called Don’t Die but I haven’t seen it so watch at your own risk.
These are good words to chew on today. This has always been such a profound point in the church calendar year for me - for many of the reasons you've mentioned.
I always love your words of wisdom! Miss you my friend 💗