A friend and fellow pastor just announced his plans for retirement – he plans to leave his pulpit in about six months, and after conferring with the elders at his church and then his congregation, he posted his plans on social media. The Facebook announcement garnered nearly a hundred “loves” and “likes” and over forty comments, most filled with encouragement, congratulations, and thanks.

One of the comments, good-natured, judging by the emojis used, was one I’ve seen and heard before: WAIT a second Rev! WHERE do you find a reference to “retirement” in the Bible? The only “alternative” I see mentioned to that ain’t good”!

My friend, in a good-natured reply, pointed out that the priests mentioned in Numbers 4 apparently faced mandatory retirement at age 50.  Good enough. By the way, the Bible doesn’t mention emergency appendectomies or air conditioning, and both are good alternatives to, say, death or Midwest summer humidity.

Recently I was talking with another generational peer who said he prefers to think of his life after paid employment as “repurposement” rather than retirement. I once knew a pastor, who at 85 (“I’m 85 years young” he’d tell us), served as chaplain for a retirement (repurposement?) community.  He liked to say he was reinspired instead of retired.

Really?  Is retirement so bad that some of us need a prooftext to justify it or a euphemism to cover it? It may have something to do with growing old. Continue reading →

You don’t have to agree with any or all of what I say, but I’m going to say it anyway. I think the covid vaccines are wonderfully good things, and we owe a debt of gratitude to former President Trump and his team members who oversaw their development at warp speed and to President Biden and his team members who have overseen their quick and effective distribution. I think, too, that everyone who is able to receive the vaccine ought to receive the vaccine – for their own good and for the common good.

If you’re not angry yet, keep on reading. (We do love our anger.)

As it turns out, virtue is not enough of its own reward.

President Biden has set a goal of having 70% of us (adults) vaccinated, or at least on our way to full vaccination, by July 4. Though we may not make it, I think it would be a good thing if we did – for our own good and for the common good.  Call it vaccine virtue. Continue reading →

We spent last week on the road.  We had flown out to Washington state on Friday, and then Sunday through Thursday we helped our son Christopher, his wife Katie, and their six children with the drive from Washington to western Missouri where Christopher has begun his work as an active-duty Air Force Chaplain at Whiteman Air Force Base.

The days were not long distance-wise, about 350 miles per day, but suffice it to say, rest stops with six children ten and under are not quick ins and outs.  It was a good trip. Three cars, two children per car, and we arrived in Missouri on schedule.  Washington, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, South Dakota, Iowa, and Missouri.

Three years ago, we made a similar trip from Wichita, Kansas, to Ephrata, Washington via Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. A pastor’s life can be a bit nomadic. Continue reading →

We are on the road again. Becky and I are flying to Washington state today and then on Sunday begin a five-day, 3-car, six-children, four-adult, 1800-mile trip to Missouri where our son Christopher begins his work as an active-duty chaplain in the U.S. Air Force  If all goes well, we will be back in Auburn on Saturday, June 5.

But I am thinking about being on the road in another sense.

I will run in the way of your commandments
    when you enlarge my heart! Psalm 119:32 (ESV)

I have been a runner of sorts most of my adult life. Typically in the morning. Typically around the neighborhood. Typically not very fast. I’ve run a few 5k or 10k races, and even won a medal once when the field was small and there were only two or three of us in my age category.

For the past eighteen months or so, however, I have not been running. The pandemic. Retirement. Moving. I have my excuses. In fact, I had been thinking about not returning to running. Becky and I have a nice walking routine, and with no knee or hip problems after having run most of my adult life, I thought it might be time to quit while I was ahead.

But I like running. Maybe it’s the endorphins. Continue reading →

Early in their retirement, my mother and father wrote autobiographies of a sort. 122 and 177 typed pages respectively, neither is a literary gem, but each reflects the personality of its author and is full of stories and recollections that are a wonderful link to the past.  While mostly telling family stories, world events appear in both narratives, none more so than the Second World War.

I thought of my parents and their stories of the end of the war as some people think maybe we have come to a possible end of the pandemic.  Even if it is the end, it doesn’t look as if we’ll have any Victory over Covid celebrations.

My mother had graduated from college a year earlier, and in May 1945, was living in New York City with some of her college friends.  They had found an apartment on the Upper Westside.  She tells the story of her May 7, V-E, Victory in Europe, Day: We all rode the subway down to Times Square where a milling mass of humanity was celebrating. Then we went to Radio City and got tickets to the Perry Como Show.  There he was sitting on his stool singing about when the lights go on all over the world. We took the Staten Island Ferry across the harbor and saw the Statue of Liberty lighted up for the first time since the war had begun.

My father was a Navy officer serving in the Mediterranean. He writes, Rumors began to spread that the war in Europe was soon coming to a conclusion, and that our ship would be returned to the States, converted into a rocket ship and sent to the Pacific War…All ships present began to prepare to leave the Mediterranean. We joined a large convoy and headed west. We passed through the Straits of Gibraltar and soon pulled into port in the Azores. Continue reading →