Technically, my retirement from active ministry began on January 1. But I had a little vacation time coming at St. Michael's and so my last service (and last post to this blog) was on Christmas Day. For three weeks now, I've been finding my way into a new chapter of life.
People kept asking me what I'd do in retirement and I kept trying to find the right, short, elevator speech. I said I was at a stage in life where being is more important to me than doing. I said that my vocation has always been bigger than priestly ministry: I'm a husband and father and father-in-law and grandfather and son and brother and neighbor. Having more time for these several callings definitely lured me toward this new chapter. I said that I wanted to cook more like an old European lady, by which I meant that I've never liked grocery shopping for a week or more, but rather going to see what looks good and shopping that afternoon as part of the meal prep itself.
I didn't really say, but had in mind two other things as well...
First, commuting is hard on one's physical health. As Canon to the Ordinary from 2013-2024 my commute to Springfield was just about an hour but I also drove all across and up and down the diocese regularly. As interim rector in Bristol my commute was about an hour and ten minutes or so, depending on traffic in Providence. During the pandemic and again for these past three weeks without a commute, my days begin by walking. I've been averaging just about six miles a day since Christmas. I've also added in weight training on a more focused basis, since I keep reading and hearing about how as people age they lose muscle. It's cold and icy right now in New England so I'm doing all of this at the Greendale YMCA where I've been a member since we moved to Holden in 1998. But never have I had a consistent run like I've had these past three weeks. I had to get to work! I am usually there for about two and a half hours and since I'm an early riser, still home by 9 am or so.
The second thing I wanted to do was more writing and reading on my own, not related to sermon preparation. I've been finding time most days to do both but I'm also still figuring out how to continue on the path of life-long learning without the discipline of preparing a sermon every week as my focus. Freedom is good, but one still needs a purpose. So I'm working on that.
I've been busy, but not frenetic which is what I was looking for. I've been happy, which to some extent I've been for a long time; my life is very blessed. But I'm finding myself more fully present to the sacramentality of the present moment; to this Now. I'm anxious about the state of the world, to be sure. But not about my own life, at least not right now.
And so I'm grateful. I have found in pastoral ministry that even thinking about retirement brings up all kinds of emotions for folks, lay and ordained. If you love your work, as I have, in some ways that seems harder. People who hold down a miserable job to put bread on the table feel freedom when they finally can lay that burden aside. But for many people I know, they find meaning in their work. They see it as vocational. I certainly have. But here has been the big surprise: those opportunities don't need to be tied to a full-time job. In the two weeks of January, I've been an interfaith panelist at UMass Medical School with fourth year Med students. Alongside Jewish and Muslim colleagues we have a chance to talk about big questions of meaning, of life and death, of ethics and the dialogue between faith and medicine. I've done this for almost a decade now but it felt different this year, and I felt grateful to still be doing it and I hope to continue doing it.
I got a call from a funeral home to ask if I'd do a graveside service for a lapsed Episcopalian who had grown up in the Church but no longer had a congregation. Graveside services can be perfunctory but for whatever reason I found this one to be meaningful and I think the family did also. I also got a call from a contractor who did work on our home some time ago: his wife was nearing the end of her life and he asked if I'd be willing to visit her. I did - multiple times as she navigated from hospital to hospice and then took her last breath. I'll be officiating at her funeral this Friday.
Honestly, as much as I love to preach, I find itinerant preaching a bit of a challenge. I'll do some of it, I'm sure - there's a need. But I'd much rather do a funeral, actually. Or a wedding. Or a baptism.
The late Bishop of Newark, Jack Spong, coined a powerful phrase to refer to people who had grown up in the faith but then "moved on." He called it the Church Alumni Association. Members of the CAA aren't necessarily angry at the Church - they just got out of practice. They "graduated." But they do have faith, and sometimes faith seeking understanding.
I remembered this anew in my "Tuesdays with Morrie" visits recently and I remembered it at UMass Medical School, where nearly every student in the room said they grew up with some kind of faith (not just Methodist and Lutheran and Roman Catholic but Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim...) but that it was not currently a part of their adult lives.
I have long believed there is a deep spiritual hunger out there that churches are not meeting. I realize my last 37 years have been focused on "building up the church" and I'm wondering if this next chapter is more about connecting with people who are seeking, and have some faith foundation, but need to find ways to connect the faith they once had to the lives they are now living. Christian nationalism makes this harder, but also more and more necessary, I think. I'll keep you posted!
