My ongoing journey into
retirement is as strange as any of life's transitions. You and I have been fed
with the virtues of "keeping busy" and being productive. In addition, many of
us have learned to depend upon our careers for a sense of who we are and any
resulting self-worth, significance, and purpose.
Retirement is one of those
events that challenges all of these virtues. It is no longer necessary to keep
busy or be productive. Some of us are perceived as former or "ex-" whatever we
did for a living. Less graciously we are sometimes reminded that we're eligible
for "has-been" status!
How can you and I cope with
major transitions in our lives? How are we sustained, whether through a chosen
retirement, a forced departure from a position, the exodus of our growing
children, the conclusion of a relationship, the death of someone we love, the
onset of a disability, unanticipated crises, or a growing disenchantment with
our circumstances?
To adjust should we rush to
another job? Are we destined to feel worthless and purposeless without
employment? Ought we focus primarily on our children or grandchildren wherever
they are? Should we seek the immediate replacement of lost relationships? Do we
sulk about new limitations? Should we quickly alter our circumstances, certain
that the next situation will be much better? Should we avoid unneeded
entanglements?
I began planning for my early
retirement several years ago. In 1992, at 55, I resigned from my state college
teaching post with generous benefits. Two years later, my Connecticut ministry
closed at our Cathedral amidst trumpets, timpani, and my own tears during the
concluding procession. Then, after 27 years in the same home, the movers came.
There were difficult moments, such as the removal of the mezuzah (a gift from
Jewish friends) from the front entrance; my home became a house. Although I was
born and raised in Greater Boston (I'm told it's still obvious), Connecticut
had been my home for almost 4 decades - except for three Manhattan years. Next
on the calendar was a significant move to Florida!
Except for its awful winter
weather, I still miss much about the Northeast. Nonetheless, the joys of my
past three Florida years have indeed outnumbered some significant difficulties
and disappointments, and there have been no tragedies. Many of you have gone
through and are coping with far more monumental and troublesome times. How
can you and I be truly sustained in wonderful, dreadful, and mixed
transitions?
With Bread. Yes, that's what I
said, "Bread." In the Bible bread is a common word. Bread was so basic to their
lives that the word "bread" could be used interchangeably with "food." However,
Jesus cautioned his listeners that ordinary, perishable bread is insufficient
for complete nourishment. They knew that the bread provided their ancestors in
the wilderness had become a symbol of the life-giving power of God. Jesus now
declared, almost too graphically, that God's life-giving power is fulfilled in
himself: exemplified in his life, his way and his truth. The Word of God
incarnate in Jesus is the true, living Bread from heaven, the staple providing
genuine life that truly satisfies the deepest of human hungers. As Risen Lord
and Messiah, he embodies the Creator's authentic source of wholesome
nourishment, thereby saving us from the toxic foods of false gods.
In today's Collect we prayed
for grace, as we often do. Receiving the blessed bread and wine of the Holy
Communion is a special occasion of grace provided by Christ. Commenting on
"grace," an English bishop remarked that we should repudiate all notions of
grace which portray it as something given by God to work mechanically, like a
medicine to be taken three times a day. Rather, we think of God's grace as
analogous to the help which one individual can give to another in personal
relationships, help which does not obliterate a recipient's own freedom, but
which enables one to be more truly oneself and more fully free: the sort of
help which leads one to say with gratitude, "I could never be who I am or do
what I do but for that loving support and vitality." When we receive the "The
Body of Christ, The Bread of Heaven" and "The Blood of Christ, The Cup of
Salvation," God's grace is given to us so that we might become more aligned
with God's purposes and grow toward a fuller communion with God and each other.
Neither controlling nor coercing, God's freely given grace enables,
strengthens, heals, and empowers us for service.
Late Thursday afternoon I
received a call from our diocesan office in Miami. The director-designate of
St. Laurence Chapel in Pompano Beach is unable to accept the post, which was to
begin tomorrow. The Chapel is open six days a week from 8:30 AM to 1 PM as a
shelter for the homeless, a refuge where referrals are made, lunch is provided
by several volunteers, and the police need to be summoned once or twice a week.
I was told that without an Interim on hand while a new executive director is
found, the Chapel might lose much of its funding and momentum. Someone is
needed Monday morning (tomorrow) to open up and shepherd the place for a week
or two (or three...). "They're desperate," I was told, "would you please serve
as Interim?" I haven't a clue about that ministry and have some real
reservations about its effectiveness. Ordination and degrees do not confer
professional omniscience, and I would never seek to serve where I might be
utterly inept. Furthermore, at this stage of my life I am not in search of new
and unfamiliar responsibilities. But the desperate call came; I have been told
there is no one else available. Unprepared and a bit apprehensive, I'll walk
into that situation tomorrow morning trusting only in the grace of God.
And, I am confident that the ministry of St. Laurence Chapel, however
imperfectly pastored for a short while, will continue.
By way of contrast, Monday
evening I'll continue teaching my philosophy course "Epistemology" for Barry
University. The Holy Spirit must have a strange sense of humor and very odd
personnel policies!
You and I gather this morning
to give thanks and to be fed with extraordinary Bread: Bread not to stare at,
idolize, or freeze for later private use. As the staple of genuine living, we
consume holy bread, and we partake of consecrated wine, that we may live
gracefully and fully now. In this grace-filled liturgical act we follow
Christ, we affirm who we are: each of us a unique, named child of God united in
this fellowship. We are renewed in our common baptismal identity, and in our
daily lives we live out who we are, now and then blundering as we follow him.
We celebrate our God-given identity that anchors and supports us during life's
transitions and unexpected moments, whether turbulent or peaceful. We do this
so that our lives may become increasingly consistent with his.
I am here this morning hopeful
of journeying further into a more leisurely retirement, even with its surprises
en route. The rough spots and uncertainties are real. I am aware that "keeping
busy" or other quick-fixes are insufficient sustenance. However, I'm no
worthless "has-been," nor are any of you. I know with all my heart and mind
that regardless of where we are or what we're doing, as followers of Christ, we
remain children of God. We are Christ's transformed family and community
nurtured, indeed graced, especially when we break Bread together and
serve in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.