Growing Older and UNDERSTANDING PURPOSE
Recently, I’ve heard a few comments wondering whether it is discouraging—or even depressing—to look out over the congregation and see so many well-lived people… or, as some might say more bluntly, “old people.” At 62, I find myself on the cusp of being well-lived myself. How do I know this? My body kindly reminds me each day: I’m not as limber as I was even in my 50s, my stamina isn’t quite what it used to be, and if I manage a twenty-something kind of day, I’ll need a day or two to recover.
My husband Brent is required to retire from being an airline pilot at age 65. The airline industry essentially says, “You are too old to fly.” Recently, Brent and I cleaned out our attic, and as we sorted through boxes of our children’s artwork—animals made from handprints, thumbprint flowers, hand-drawn family portraits, pictures lovingly tucked into handmade frames—we were struck by just how much living has happened over the past forty years. Which naturally leads to the question: So, what now?
A Community to Guide the Way
As Brent and I begin to look toward “what’s next,” I realize how deeply blessed we are to belong to a congregation filled with people who can show us the way—not only for us, but for everyone growing up in these times: from our littlest ones, to teenagers, to college students, young adults, those in midlife, and beyond.
For those of you rich in years, you are the foundation of our church. Many of our younger members are busy building careers, raising children, and caring for aging parents. Richard Rohr reminds us that this season of their lives is often about building the container of faith—shaping identity, responsibility, and belief. The younger generations are doing what this stage of life requires, even as our culture leaves them little time for the ongoing work of the church.
Filling and Pouring Out
Later in life, Rohr reminds us that the containers we have built are now ready to be filled and poured out. This is not a lesser calling, but a holy one. In a world that feels increasingly anxious and uncertain, our younger generations need more than answers or advice; they need people who will be present, listen with compassion, and quietly reassure them that their faith matters and that they are not alone.
Our congregation is richly blessed with people who are living into this calling—serving faithfully in the life of the church and the wider community, offering wisdom shaped by years of walking with God. People rich in years, rich in wisdom, and rich in faith: you are the steady presence, the guiding voices, and the ones helping lead this church into the future.
Witnessing Your Faithfulness
I am in a privileged position as your pastor because I get to witness, firsthand, the many ways you fill and pour out from your container of faith. Those of you rich in years give yourselves generously to the ministries of this church—serving our children through Sunday School, Vacation Bible School, Kids Connect, tutoring at Matthew Whaley and with our Afghan children; supporting the Winter Shelter, Crock Pot Ministry, Grove, FISH, and Habitat for Humanity; and carrying out so much of the behind-the-scenes ministry that makes church life possible, from the Friendship Registry and counting offerings to stewardship and hospitality. You also continue to grow your own faith through Squares, Bible and Bacon, Disciple Bible Study, Presbyterian Women, Alpha, Fellowship, and Thoughtful Christian Class. This is a long list—and it is not even complete—but I hope you hear my gratitude and my point.
When we become rich in years, our purpose often shifts from building the container of faith to filling and giving out from that container. I want you to know how essential you are to our life together and to God’s ongoing work through this church.
LIVING FAITH
I am also deeply aware that being rich in years means we do not get to choose the health challenges we face. In times of vulnerability, grief, and even doubt, you bear witness to the sustaining power of God’s presence. Some of the most formative moments of my own faith have come from walking with you through these seasons. Faith is not only something we do; it is something we live, even in the darkness—trusting that the darkness does not overcome the light.
Revolutionary Hope and Love
Our church’s purpose statement calls us to be “revolutionary in our hope and love.” Those words are bold—and they remain only words unless they are lived out in real, faithful relationships. We cannot embody that calling through programs alone. We need people who have the depth of life experience to practice hope patiently, to love generously, and to stay present when answers are not clear.
That is where you, people rich in years, are essential. Your calling in this season is not to preach or persuade, but to listen, to accompany, and to offer steady reassurance to younger generations growing up in a world marked by anxiety and uncertainty. When you share your faith with humility—through presence, curiosity, prayer, and compassion—you show them that faith can hold questions, grief, and change, and still endure.
The Foundation of the Future
Is it discouraging or depressing to be a congregation filled with people rich in years? Absolutely not. You are the foundation of the church’s future—bearing witness to God’s faithfulness over a lifetime, passing along a living legacy of faith, and showing all of us what it means to be truly revolutionary in hope and love.
