Retirement is weird

—a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection

I thought retirement would be different. 

Like many, I had spent decades working and saving; investing in retirement plans, 401k’s, savings accounts; thinking about how I would use my time when I had all those hours to do as I pleased. I thought I would spend more time reading and writing, that I would finally get back to that long unfinished novel languishing at the back of my iPad. 

But...well...fair warning: Retirement is weird.  

A lot changes when we retire. Some things seem obvious. We stop working. We no longer earn our income. Mondays are not the same. There’s no place we have to be on a weekday morning. Most of us have some cash flow, but it is almost always a lot less than before we retired. But other things catch us by surprise. We’re stunned to discover that most of our friends were workplace friends. And, suddenly, it seems like just everybody has some plan to fill our newly freed time.

Is it any wonder that many people, even when they have the resources to do so, don’t stay retired? Research indicates that at least 40% of workers over the age of 65 had already previously retired! A person in their 80’s who, though well-off financially, told me, “I just can’t retire. I wouldn't know what to do with myself.”

I could list a litany of things that retirement brings, some of which highlight how wonderful it can be and some of which make it seem something to be avoided at all costs. But there is one thing about retirement that is universal for everyone who takes that step—and it can be a stunner if you’re not prepared for it.

Everything just stops.

Work email just stops. All those projects you were a part of? Not another word. Your opinion is no longer sought. Your regular lunch mates? Going to lunch without you. Bad as that all feels, it gets worse. That work you were championing? That process change you were seeking? That new approach to training the next generation of workers you were shaping? Stopped. And if it didn’t stop, it changed so significantly after you left, you might not even recognize it. 

It’s almost like you were never there. 

True, we need not retire to experience this. Anything that takes us out of our normal flow can cause it. Major health concerns, fired from a job, forced relocation: Pick your poison. If you’ve ever experienced it, you can never forget it. The experience certainly makes this week’s Psalm 146 a little clearer. It’s all about trusting in God. It recites all the good God does. But before it does so, it warns the reader: Don’t put your faith in princes (and other mortals) because, “When their breath departs, they return to the earth; on that very day their plans perish.”

Retired or not, we need to place our faith in the one who is constant, the one who can be depended on to help in time of trouble, the one who (as the psalm says): 

·       executes justice for the oppressed ... 

·       gives food to the hungry ... 

·       sets the prisoners free ... 

·       opens the eyes of the blind ... 

·       lifts up those who are bowed down ... 

·       watches over the strangers ... 

·       upholds the orphan and the widow

That’s what God does. Most of this week’s scriptures are about what God does for those in need, but some are about what we should do. A good summary of what God wants of us can be found in this week’s James selection. Read it and you will see: It’s like he’s preaching a sermon on how to fold Psalm 146 into our modern lives. 

The world may have stopped for us—even though we are not princes, and even though we are still here. But we are called to continue...by a God who never stops.