Sometimes when I’m speaking in churches for what is variously called “senior adult Sunday” or such, I’ll say to the congregation as a whole….
It’s great being a senior adult! If you knew what fun we have, you’d be chomping at the bit wanting to be one.
One of the best things about it–I don’t know if this is common knowledge, so you might want to keep this to yourself–is that every month, the government sends you money! I’m not kidding.
It’s really kind of amazing. Toward the end of the month, you’ll call the bank to check on your balance and find that your account is almost bare. Then, the next day, boom! There’s more money in the account. The government did that just for you.
Is that nice or what?
And if that’s not enough, being a retired pastor (that’s what I am, ever since my 69th birthday two years ago) brings a special kind of reward most other people don’t have: We get to preach all over the place! Really. People call and invite us to their church for a revival or banquet or prayer conference, to speak to the deacons–boy, do I ever get a kick out of that!–or do a senior adult emphasis. All these churches we used to drive by and think, “Hey, wonder what it would be like to pastor there,” well, they invite us in and we get to preach there. It’s more fun than anything.
Honestly, if I’d known retirement would be this much fun, I think I’d have gone straight from ordination into retirement.
There is one downside to all this getting older business, however. And that’s what brought me to my soapbox this morning. Something I need to say to my brethren in the ministry who are moving into those senior years.