292 - In Praise of Old Things

In Praise of Old Things
By Paul L. Kauffman

I began to think
as I lay on my bed,
looking at the peeling paint
on the ceiling
and through the many-paned window
to the new, square building beyond,
how much more I like things that are old.
Why? … I do not know.
Perhaps there is a softness,
a mellowing
in things that are old,
that time has not yet imparted to the new.
Or is it
the old materials,
the warm wood,
the textured stone,
the softer brick,
that speak more kindly than
the harsh concrete,
the cold glass,
or the anonymous materials that have no identity?
The design? Is it the design of things old that seems more human,
more comfortable,
more inviting
than the bold,
powerful,
overpowering newness of things today?
The
straight,
clear,
predictable,
sometimes massive
lines of the new often impress,
even intimidate.
But the old, even when massive, softens its impression
With
variation,
mysterious intricacies
that fascinate
and capture our interest.

293 - In Praise of Old Things

Might it be none of these?
Might it be what has happened to the old?
Think what vast variety of experience has occurred
within some ancient space.
What joys … What sorrows … What tragedies … What ecstasies!
To stand in the place where some timeless words were spoken,
to gaze into a room where someone slept,
to sit upon a seat where once the famous sat,
these the new cannot give us.
I think I know one fascination the old holds for me.
It is to know that where I am,
others have been before.
It is not to learn from their mistakes,
but that my errors
others have erred also.
The old tells me
of the camaraderie of commonality
that knows no bounds of time.
I am not alone!
What is new will not always be new.
What is old simply becomes older.
Shall we discard the old old
to make way for the new old?
We do so at our own peril.
For to destroy the old
is to obliterate that from which we have come,
and to do that is to extinguish part of ourselves.
We become shallow versions of existence
that have no depth,
no substance.
We not only need the old,
we are the old,
again.
Is that
why I speak
in praise of things that are old?

Paul L. Kauffman is the minister of the Concordia Lutheran Church, Columbia, Pa. He is a graduate of Franklin and Marshall College and of Gettysburg Theological Seminary. His poetic reverie, "In Praise of Old Things," came to him early one morning during a continuing education seminar. The "center" where he was housed was once a stately mansion, but as he looked out his window he could see a new, contemporary-style dormitory. Like architecture, cars, music, furniture, and moral values, he reflected that he liked the old better than the new.