Still faithful after all these years.

The best-known academic at Harvard University is probably professor emeritus John Kenneth Galbraith. This famous economist has achieved a wide reputation through his written and spoken commentary on vital national issues. He also remains known for his stints of public service, which include heading the Office of Price Administration in the 1940s and his term as President John F. Kennedy's ambassador to India.

What first strikes one forcibly in meeting Galbraith is his physical stature. At 6 foot 8 1/2 inches tall, he towers over just about everybody except certain Boston Celtics basketball players who may happen to visit Cambridge from time to time. When he enters a room, he is hard to ignore.

Now in his 89th year, Galbraith continues to be a leader in a variety of fields -- economics, politics, and education. His advice is widely sought by the world's movers and shakers. When Galbraith went to Rome last spring, Pope John Paul 11 asked him to visit and converse with him.

Among his many books and articles, the one Galbraith says has received the greatest response was a short piece he published in the Boston Globe. In that op-ed, he wrote about what he calls the "still" factor and was astonished at how many readers identified with his experience.

This is the way it works with Galbraith: people approach him, look up at him, and ask, "Are you s till walking (talking, writing, teaching)?" People express awe that anyone approaching the age of 90 continues to be able to function effectively.

This questions reflects the younger public's naive amazement that a person can continue to be constructive late in life. Left to themselves, most people believe in the great social myth that old age is merely a time of decline.

Galbraith, with his towering physique and clever mind, serves as a living refutation of the mentality behind the "still" factor. But so do countless other people who are flourishing in later life. Those among them who get cited as examples are always presumed to be exceptions. But when exceptions become common, maybe they should be taken as the norm.

The fact of the matter is: Americans are living to be old in unprecedented numbers. They are enjoying better health than ever before and are better educated. Fewer older people are suffering from chronic diseases today. Even specialists were surprised last year when federal researchers announced that from 1982 through 1994 disability rates fell by 1 or 2 percent each year.

And the rise in education is also startling. As recently as 1980, the median number of school years that older people had completed was only 11.5. By 1995, a mere 15 years later, that figure had risen to 12.5 and is still going up-another still factor but this time on the group level.

Millions of elder citizens now choose continuing education as their chief activity in retirement. They thus experience for themselves a truth known to few younger people later life, like earlier stages in the human life span, is a time for personal development. One can continue to grow, change, and embrace surprises.

However, U.S. society still has not adopted a favorable view of the lives of seniors. As a casual survey of birthday cards at any drugstore can attest, our culture still regards the approach of old age with foreboding. (One card cheerily proclaims: "The first sign of old age is being confused by simple manual tasks." The recipient tries to open the card and can't because it opens on the left side instead of the usual right. "Gotcha!") People still see later life as largely a time of decline.

Late life spirituality

The drive to develop a more favorable view of later life takes on new impetus when you look at spirituality. More and more older people have discovered that for spiritual development, this stage can prove to be the most favorable time of all. Later life deserves to be called the golden age of personal spirituality.

About other retirement activities they have asked: Is that all there is? Even the enjoyable experiences of travel, the arts, and family reunions prove not enough to satisfy the human heart. That's why so many elders are turning to prayer and other spiritual exercises. They want a stronger sense of the meaning of their lives.

I feel confident enough to make a prediction about the future of this country's older population: the hot topic will soon become elder spirituality. Already one sees it happening. At a conference on aging held at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, Boston-area elders expressed more interest in spirituality than in any other topic. It belongs to the vision expressed by the keynote speaker at that meeting, Professor Charles Willie, who spoke of "the wisdom of old age which will redeem this nation."

You would expect by now that the churches and synagogues in the U.S., along with other religious institutions, would be leading the way in nurturing the spiritual development of older people. Instead they have been imitating Rip Van Winkle, asleep as the world around them ages.

The fact that a growing percentage of their congregations is made up of older men and women seems not to have attracted their attention.

So middle-aged and older people have been forced to look elsewhere notably to books and articles that offer guidance along the path to old age.

The mainline religious institutions of the U.S. need to develop a spirituality of late life. Their older members need inspiration for responding creatively to the challenges of growing old.

Preaching, religious education, spiritual direction, and special programs all offer opportunities for churches, synagogues, mosques, and other groups to serve this constituency.

Yet one rarely hears of any such activities designed for people past middle age. I, in seven decades of churchgoing, had never heard a sermon on aging until this year when an Episcopal rector in a Boston suburb, prompted by me as a consultant, preached on the subject to excellent effect.

Why am I here?

What do older people need to know and wish to hear? First they should learn what growing old means from the viewpoint of their spiritual tradition.

For instance, the Catholic tradition values the concept of vocation. All members of the church are called to the service of God and neighbor. This concept, full of spiritual resonance, could be applied to later life. Not everybody lives to be old; those who do can validly understand their survival as a call from God.

What then would be the responsibilities of the old-age vocation? This stage of life emerges as a time for both a deepening of spirit and for renewed service to the community. The vocation theme offers a foundation for interpreting later life as a gift given for the advantage of the individual and for all those with whom the individual comes into contact.

Is there a kind of prayer that is appropriate to later life? Many people find that as they grow older, their prayer becomes simpler. One 80-something woman says: "I start to say the Our Father slowly, but I can't get through it. After a few words, I stop and get caught up in what I have just said." People need assurance that this kind of prayer has great value. It takes courage to just sit there and seem to do little or nothing.

Another area in which many older people need spiritual guidance is that of loss and suffering. Even though many more men and women enjoy better health than before, old age remains a time of trial for not a few. The "why" questions, valid at any stage of life, can show a sharper bite later on.

Another 80ish woman, when asked what she wanted of her church, answered to the shock of parish staff members, "A good funeral." This response, seen in context, actually demonstrates a beautiful sense of church. She saw her funeral as a celebration of her whole life lived in the church and with faith in God.

As they approach the end of their lives, many other people wonder about personal survival. Does God still love me in extreme old age, when things have turned out differently from what I expected? People who ask questions like this need reassurance that the God of their youth remains faithful to them. And they may want to know why God seems so different to them now.

Christianity can sometimes seem like a young person's religion. After all, Jesus died before reaching middle age. Perhaps an aged person could echo what Jesuit father Blazon, a character in Canadian novelist Robertson Davies' Fifth Business (Viking, 1992), asks: "Everybody wants a Christ for himself and those who think like him. Very well, am I at fault for wanting a Christ who will show me how to be an old man?"

Later life may require people to reinterpret much of the religious tradition as it was handed on to them in youth. This gives churches and other religious institutions an opportunity to seize the day and provide older members and their families with spiritual guidance and inspiration.

Then more people could realize the promise behind one of my favorite quotations. It comes from the Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard, who asked: "What is it to be God's chosen? It means to be denied in youth the wishes of youth, so as with great pains to get them fulfilled in old age."