The Employer I worked longest for was a company called Phileo. It was a name derived from a Greek work meaning brotherly love. A bit like mateship I guess.

Last night I received an email from an ex-colleague. From Phileo, so he was a mate. He mentioned a recent lunch he had with a few other ex-Phileo employees. The names all brought back different, but by and large fond, memories. There were a few others not at the lunch. Of those who were, I have been in contact with 2-3 of them, from time to time.

It was great to hear of mateship like that. It is now 5 years since the banking arm of Phileo was sold. The name of the Company changed soon after that sale, and most of us left before that. I was one of the last to leave, when I finished in end 2001. Yet after we all left, we continued to hook up – lunches, drinks, dinners. They were always good times. I’d say we are all mates. I can imagine during this, World Cup season, they would probably be talking about football and betting pools. All good natured of course. These are all very nice people.

Yes, I do go on about ageing, about getting old, but it is true. This mate of mine, in his email last night, mentioned that he would be retiring not long from now (I suggested to him about coming to Melbourne to retire). He also mentioned that for that lunch, one of them turned up in crutches, having torn a ligament in a tennis game. I’m losing my hair and teeth but not my weight. We all age!

Just before I read that email, Theresa and Kiddo looked at some pics her brother in Malaysia put up in Kodalgallery.com. Wonderful site that one. We’ve been using it for years, when it first started as ofoto.com. We saw a picture of Theresa’s family – the whole clan was there. Her parents, both her brothers and their families, only ones missing were us. The thing that jumped out at me was how much older her father looked. He has aged. He looked a little shriveled. Then I remembered seeing photos of my sister-in-law’s recent graduation ceremony (she had taken some bible courses). My mother was in it and I saw how old she looked too. Her hair is now shades of golden-grey.

My late grandfather liked Psalm 90 a lot. Verses 9 and 10 say:

9. “All our days pass away under your wrath; we finish our years with a moan.”

10. “The length of our days is seventy years – or eighty, if we have the strength; yet their span is but trouble and sorrow, for they quickly pass, and we fly away.”

Makes you wonder why he liked this psalm, doesn’t it? He was a wise old man, for verse 12 says:

12. “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

It is precisely in recognizing our mortality, in acknowledging our finiteness and the fleeting nature of life, that we become wise in our ways. Unfortunately, we often don’t concede that until the inevitable happens. It is when we see our parent age, when we see our contemporaries battling the effects of age, that we see our own mortality. That perception is augmented by our own failings, our own children coming of age. We see then that we are really, like dews on grass in the morning. We are here but for a moment. We don’t count. Only God does, because He remains. Whether our otherwise meaningless lives take on any meaning, depends on whether we hook up with the only One who remains. That is what the “Teacher” in Ecclesiastes says: “Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man”

Mateship is a wonderful thing. Mateship with God is a life-saving thing.