There are days I fantasize about it. Other days I dread the thought of it. Retirement. When deadlines loom and work stress is high, I think about that season in my life when my time will be more my own. I will volunteer, travel, inflict my company on my grown children. That’s the hope, right? We look forward to more time with enough resources and health to enjoy filling it up as we choose. However, I know that vision of retirement is often far from reality. A recent meeting with a financial planner was an eye opener. Let’s run the numbers again, this time with a planned retirement at age 70. What does it look like at 72? Sitting with couples in hospital rooms thankful they bought that travel insurance is another means of not getting too set on post-employment globe-trotting. Then there is the unicorn-like quality of retired pastors. (“Really, this is my last interim,” we hear over and over.)
The days of a gold watch send-off at age 65 after a long tenure at one place are mostly history. People are working longer, some because they want to, others because it is a financial necessity. Many wonder what they will do when they stop working. When our identity, friends and sense of worth are closely tied to our work, the thought of giving it up is difficult. (That’s the dread part.)
Too often we have failed as a church to talk about the complicated issues that surround retirement. I am guilty of assuming that the newly retired will relish spending more time volunteering at the church. NOW, you can chair stewardship! Or be the head usher or teach Sunday school or come back on session or, or, or … . Perhaps that is why this demographic often disappears from our pews. Or maybe it is because we don’t make space for conversations about the huge transition that is retirement.
In these pages we have attempted to begin the discussion. There is much that is not covered and it is my hope that you will tell us what we’ve missed and how we might address it in the future. We have delved into the painful and pervasive reality of Alzheimer’s, the unique aspects of spirituality that come with age and the fact that more time with less structure is both a blessing and a challenge.
Whether we dread it or fantasize about it, are far from it or well into it, we can be assured that Christ’s claim on our lives remains constant. God works through the very young and the very old and all of us in between. Our worth isn’t dependent upon a paycheck. We are created good and called beloved by the Most High God and that never changes. Trusting that truth will help us navigate any and every stage of our life’s journey. Hopefully, it will embolden us to be honest about both the joys and the fears along the way, too.
I recently received a phone message from a reader in response to an editorial I wrote about the upcoming General Assembly. He left his name and his age, 97. He then expressed his concern about the future of the church and encouraged me to call the Presbyterian Church to a “high level of self-study.” He ended his comments asking for God to bless my new work. I found his call inspiring. It is deeply faithful to be concerned for the future of the church at age 97.
His call caused me to reconsider my own hopes and fears for retirement. While travel would be nice and I am concerned about money and health, what I really hope is that I will remain concerned for the future, even if it is a future I will not experience. Like that reader, I want to be engaged enough to encourage younger generations. I don’t want to retire from planting and tending in God’s vineyard even when the fruit will be borne long after I am gone. I pray my faith will be such that I will always be looking forward in hope, expecting that God is doing a new thing, and that through the power of the Holy Spirit I will have the ability to participate in it — no matter what my age.
Grace and peace,
Jill
