Growing in Love and Marriage

My husband, Mike, retired a year ago after 37 years in ministry. I did not anticipate any great difficulty with this change in our lives, as we already had lots of events in which we participated in place years before we even thought about retirement.

So, I was very surprised to discover we had two very different styles of preparing/leaving for church. Now, we had not ridden to church together for 35 years. That fact should have been my first clue to potential difficulty. Mike insisted we leave 45 minutes before the service began (a drive that only takes 25 minutes max). My habit had been to skim in right when the service started or even during the opening hymn. "Why arrive any earlier?" I thought, "I can visit with people after church."

Convincing Mike that he no longer needs to arrive early to open the church, check the baptismal fount for water, make sure the communion elements and bulletins in place, etc. etc., is a major task. He also has had to find space on the passenger side of the car for me to "move in." My style on Sunday morning for 35 years had been to finish getting ready for church at each stoplight--putting on makeup and inserting my contacts.

Needless to say, there was an adjustment necessary on Sunday morning that I never would have predicted. Now that a year has passed, we have reached a compromise. I've shaved fifteen minutes from our departure time, and Mike has adjusted well to having me in the car. In fact, he recently bought a box of kleenex so that I didn't need to transport the box from my car to his each week.

As humorous as these changes have been, Mike broke my heart several times. A few weeks after he retired, I asked, "How are you doing?" He replied, "I have my soul back." I was speechless. I wasn't expecting that reply. Then not too long ago, he said, "I am almost getting to the place where I can think of a weekend without sermon preparation or typical weekend responsibilities at the church."

I knew that Mike had served well and deeply with persons in the various congregations he pastored, but I thought that retiring would enable him to relax immediately and adapt to a new weekend pace. The rhythm of ministry is rewarding, but also difficult and grueling. People bring who they are to church life--worship, commitee meetings, fund raising, and all other aspects of participation, which means they bring all sorts of challenges to ministry.

I am so thankful that Mike sits beside me in church. That is a really big deal for us. We cherish our time driving to and from church, wondering about the sermon on the way down, and then discussing the worship experience on the way home. I am so thankful that finally after a year Mike can relax, and experience God's presence so deeply each Sunday. We have grown during the year--with humor and God's blessing realizing that compromise can occur in any part of our married life.

Jacquie Reed, Fishers, Indiana

A Few Sundays Later...

Finding a new church that Mike and I could attend together following retirement has been top priority. We attended another United Methodist church several times during the past year, when Mike took a vacation Sunday. However, the first Sunday after our last Sunday was so difficult. We went to the early service at our new church, and then I told Mike that I needed to go back to 'my church' for one of the services. That idea was fine with him, so off I went -- slipping in after the service began, sitting on a bench against the wall of the sanctuary, and then leaving when the last hymn began. I cried the whole time, wondering if coming back was making the adjustment harder or easier.

During successive Sundays, I have followed the same pattern -- returning for one of the services at 'my church.' I realize that I will have to make the change gradually. I just cannot walk away from people whom I have loved and have loved me for fifteen years. Right now, I have to care for myself and my grief. I know that these feelings are temporary so I am trusting God to give me strength and guidance for the days ahead.

God, there are many clergy families who are experiencing changes -- new appointments bring moves and moves can be challenging. Remind all of us that you are in everything that happens, even grief and change. Increase our awareness of your presence so that at all times we can be nourished in your love. Amen.

Jacquie Reed
Fishers, Indiana

Indiana Annual Conference Highlights

The Indiana Conference ended on June 11th with a beautiful service for those commissioned and those ordained deacon and elder. Mike participated in the elder ordination of Matt Swisher. Matt and his family were part of a church Mike pastored from 1983 to 1989. Matt was three when we first met him. When he decided to become a pastor, we followed his career with special interest. Each person preparing for ordination is assigned a mentor. Matt chose Mike and for the past three years, and they met monthly, talking and sharing whatever Matt needed to discuss. We celebrated the joyous occasion with Matt, his wife Katie, and lots of family from both sides.

Another moment of personal joy, was when the conference introduced and honored those pastors retiring. Each pastor and spouse were seated on the stage. We were introduced and then led down one of two aisles in the vast auditorium. As we were in the aisle, everyone gathered, about 1200 people, stood and clapped for what seemed like forever. Both of us cried as we received this expression of appreciation.

Mike has already had several pastors ask him to preach and fill the pulpit during vacations and other times away. He is also going to work part-time at the YMCA where we work out daily. Although we have found a new church, I am still having difficulty leaving a church that has been home to me for fifteen years. I am depending on God to give me insight and vision for the future.

God, thank you for the joys and challenges of Mike's 39 years of ministry. We have learned from all types of experiences for we knew that you are in everything that happens. Guide our paths in a new way of ministry in your name. Amen.

Jacquie Reed
Fishers Indiana

Passing the Stole

My husband, Mike's, last Sunday before retirement is June 26th. The next Sunday, July 3, he and the new pastor will participate in a unique ritual. Mike, at each of the four services, will "pass a stole" to the two new pastors. The church owns a set of green stoles, so Mike, to symbolize the change in leadership, will place a stole on the shoulders of each pastor.

Usually such an exchange is not possible because the old pastor has moved on to a new church in a new town. The congregation, will witness Mike's blessing of the new ministers coming to care for the flock whom he loved so dearly for fifteen years.

God, thank you for the cooperative way that change can occur in your name. Bless all of those who are moving to serve new churches. Guide those who are retiring or taking a leave of absence. Thank you for the opportunity that all of us have to care for those in the kingdom.

Jacquie Reed
Fishers, Indiana

Making a Good Retirement

Mike, my husband, is down to eight weeks until retirement. He is doing much better than I am with the change that is before us. I am really going to miss the people in the congregation. During the past fifteen years, we have grown close to so many families, watching children grow up, get married and then have their own children. Being part of graduations, marriages, baptisms, anniversaries, funerals, and other events that bring meaning to a family have wrapped our hearts in love.

We visited a few churches in our area, but no place seemed to draw us. Maybe we will need to leave our current church before we have energy to invest in another place.

Looking for a new church has also reflected the importance of being a friendly, welcoming church to visitors. A newly created position at church - connection coordinator - began last fall. The young woman hired for this ministry, is aware when visitors attend on Sunday morning. She asks them about their interests and sometimes by the end of the day, she has given their names to the individual concerned with a particular ministry.

One church we attended did connect me with a person in charge of new members. When I told her three different areas of ministry in which I was interested, she forwarded me the three emails she sent to the persons involved. That was a month ago, and I haven't heard anything.

I realize too that I have never had to reach out and find my own path - people always came to me and invited me to various parts of church life.

I was talking recently to a friend at the YMCA whose husband is one of the pastors at a Presbyterian church. Her husband is retiring in two years. Last year, the denomination had a pre-retirement two day retreat. Part of the time was spent dealing with financial aspects of retirement. In addition there were a couple of sessions for pastors and spouses discussing the emotional and spiritual components that retirement will bring.

Although the Indiana Conference has an annual required "Making A Good Move" day and a half program for those moving, there is nothing similar for those retiring. Maybe developing a one day event is something Mike and I can do in retirement.

Needless to say, I need to increase my faith and trust in God for what the future will hold.

God in times of change, help me remember that you are the constant, ever present, ever ready to help. Amen.

Jacquie Reed,
Fishers, Indiana

What I Will Miss...

Mike, my husband, will retire after 37 years in ministry on July 1. Last Saturday morning, as I was at my desk, spending some time reflecting before going to the Y, I heard a voice downstairs. I knew Mike was home, but at first I thought he was talking on the phone. However, as I listened, I realized he was practicing his sermon. I should have guessed-- he's been doing that for years.

Then I remembered that when the children were home, they often asked, "Do we have to got to church? We've heard dad practice his sermon at least twice today." The answer to that question was always, "Yes."

There are so many rituals I will miss. The rhythm of the week-- Mike's day off on Thursday, watching him bring the sermon home on Friday, his being wrapped in the bulletin, listening to him practice on Saturday-- rarely scheduling anything social on Saturday night, so Mike can get to bed close to 9, and the peak time of the week, four Sunday services, with a gradual let down when he finally left church close to 1:00 pm Sunday afternoon. I can't imagine listening to anyone else preach. Mike's my favorite. I know the pattern of each sermon, carefully patterned after preaching professors at Duke-- Carlyle Marney and John Bergland.

A big change is on the way, and the one to which I look most forward is sitting next to Mike in church-- something I haven't done for 35 years.

Jacquie Reed
Fishers, Indiana

Change with Integrity

The word is finally out that my husband is retiring in July. I've had some interesting comments. One staff person called to tell me she was disappointed that I didn't call or meet with her to tell her in advance. I apologized, but then realized that I didn't need to apologize. I don't know where her sense of entitlement came from, but as we know, people have expectations in all aspects of church life.

Then when I tell people that we won't be able to continue attending this church, I get a look of astonishment. I explain that attending the church would not be fair to the new pastor. Sadly, through the years, we've known many pastors who have returned to churches he/she once pastored and caused difficulties by meddling in the current programs/preaching/or other aspects of church life -- some people cannot "let go and move on."
Anyway, that is not going to be our pattern.

There are many decisions we will have to make, the biggest of which will be choosing a church. Mike told me a long time ago that when he retired, I could choose our church. So, I will be making some visits to churches in the next few months, trying to find a place where both of us can feel comfortable.

God life is full of changes. Guide each of us to trust you with each day.
Amen.

Jacquie Reed,
Fishers, Indiana

Ethics and Pastoral Change

Mike, my husband, met with the staff/parish committee on Monday evening to tell those gathered that he has decided to retire. Tuesday, he told the staff during their weekly meeting.

Mike will be 63 in January, and has had a sense over the past year, that after 15 years, he has done as much as he can at his current appointment. I trust Mike to know when it is time to move on as throughout the years, he seems to know when he needs another challenge. I have known about this possibility since August, but presenting the news formally has been difficult for me to handle. I do not deal with change easily, especially after fifteen years.

I have known Mike for 38 years, and he has never been without a church in some capacity-- (filling in for vacationing or sick pastors). We have been married for 36 years, so all of our life has been in ministry. Now the delicate part comes: I cannot say anything about this change until Mike's letter (in which he describes what his intentions are for the future) goes to the congregation -- which will probably go out today or tomorrow -- not too long to wait.

However, today I received a call from a staff member who wanted me to know that she was very disappointed that I hadn't called, emailed, or met with her before Mike's announcement. I apologized, but I also realized that her remarks did not ease the grief I am feeling about the change. She wanted to know all about the decision: why he didn't stay until he was 65, why can't he take a church, what is he going to do, etc.

I answered her questions honestly, because he felt that he had done as much as he could, he didn't want to take a church for only 1 1/2 years. That would not be fair to that church, and he doesn't really know what he is going to do.

I was surprised to receive her call, especially the nature of her remarks. I feel certain that there will be more thoughts to share as the weeks progress on this topic of retirement, so stay tuned.

God increase my faith and trust in you for all circumstances of my life. Amen.

Jacquie Reed, Fishers, Indiana

Retirement Repositioning

Throughout my adult life and ministry, I have been a hopeful and mostly positive person. In fact, “encouragement” shows up as one of my spiritual gifts for leadership and ministry on every profile. Therefore, I was understandably surprised at what happened to me in the early months of retirement.


My decision about retirement began with an intentional plan. I was blessed with good health and a reasonable amount of energy. I decided not to retire at sixty-two or even sixty-five as some of my colleagues had done. Mandatory retirement for United Methodist clergy was seventy years of age. I determined to stay until age sixty-eight—beyond the traditional age, but before I was “forced out” by the rules.

As my sixty-eighth birthday approached in mid-2007, I was ready. I had spent forty-three years under full-time appointment to three United Methodist churches. They very large church I had served for the past twenty-seven years had reached the stage where a healthy transition seemed both possible and appropriate. I announced my decision to retire in the early fall of 2006. The new season of life would begin on July 1, 2007. I sent letters to my bishop and church members without any conscious regret or reservation.

I knew the possibility of some uneasiness and even misgivings when I stepped away. I anticipated what it might be like to move out of leadership in a large church and out of the appointive process of our denomination. Yet I felt quite secure in my decision.

In the final month, I preached four sermons from biblical texts in the letters of Paul where he writes, “And now, finally, brothers and sisters...” I thought—perhaps with a little too much pride—the series of messages to be both clever and appropriate. For its part, the church was gracious and affirming. I could not have asked for better send-off recognition.

I was unprepared for much of what followed.

At first I felt a certain freedom—from a controlling schedule, administrative oversight, staffing issues, evening meetings, phone calls, and sermon writing. My wife, Elaine, and I left almost immediately for a week of vacation in Washington D.C. That first Sunday of retirement, we attended worship at the National Cathedral and heard a marvelous, challenging, and well-delivered message by the lead pastor of the Cathedral. I realized I was not sleeping well at night; but I attributed that experience to the normal adjustments to a new life situation.

Within a very short time I began to miss the staff with whom I had worked for nearly a quarter century. They were extended family. They celebrated my retirement with ingenuity, humor, and great love. Now they were moving on to welcome a new leader and a new chapter in the life of the church. I missed the interaction, the laughter, the visioning, the family ties, and the conversations on a day to day basis. I missed their laughter in the halls and their voices outside my office door. I recognized these feelings as a kind of grief. I tried to rationalize my feelings and sleepless nights—and even a few unexpected tears—to a “textbook” understanding of grief.

I characteristically “analyzed” the enormity of what had happened: I had suddenly, precipitously moved from being in charge of everything (a 3500 member church and a staff of 30) to being in charge of nothing. A growing sense of emptiness and restlessness invaded my usually positive spirit. I did not regret my decision to retire. I did not yearn to return to my former position. But I was lonely and anxious in a strange new world.
Within less than one month, a second major life change took place. Our youngest son and his family found a forty acre farm for sale in the northeastern corner of the Pittsburgh area. They asked if we would we help them buy the farm, move there with them, help with child care, and set up a Community Supported Agriculture business with them. Our son would complete the C.S.A. effort as part of his Ph.D. project and thesis at West Virginia University.

My wife was elated; living only a few feet from our grandchildren was a dream come true. Her answer was an instant “yes.” I was catapulted into a whole new arena of emotions. Could we afford it? Would this shift radically change some (or all) of our retirement travel plans? Would the costs consume all of my pension and retirement savings? Would such a farm succeed? How could I learn to farm at my age? (I had lived all of my sixty-eight years in the suburbs.) Was I ready to leave a secure town-home community with virtually zero maintenance (where we had lived for the past ten years) to a high maintenance farm? Was this a true adventure, or was it utter foolishness? Throwing caution to the wind, we made an offer on the farm. The offer was accepted. My family was ecstatic. My own sleeplessness became even more pronounced.

Then came a third change. I was approached by my bishop to consider a part-time job in retirement. Would I consider taking on the task of coordinating leadership development for new lead pastors of larger membership churches and new young clergy under the age of 35? I would work directly for the bishop and meet with his executive team monthly. The position provided no staff, no office (I would work from home), and a modest stipend. The bishop and I would “invent” the job description together.

Though the bishop asked if I could start right away, I was wise enough to beg a postponement of this decision. I tentatively agreed to begin in about six months. I had no idea what I would do or how to structure this new position. Everyone who learned about the proposed position affirmed me as the right person at the right time. I almost felt guilty as the positive responses came my way. Would I let them down? Would I be able to function effectively and faithfully?

The following fall and winter were a long and arduous journey. We moved to the farm in November. I sensed it was a good thing to do in my head, but my heart would not yet rejoice.

Somewhere in the background of my mental health training, I remember learning that a healthy person can handle one major life change reasonably well. (Relocation, marriage, divorce, job change, the death of a loved one, etc.) Two such changes could cause some major stress. Three changes might push even the strongest person over the edge. I had always considered myself a strong person with a durable faith. But I now wondered if I was “going over the edge.”

I lost about twenty pounds—mostly because I was not hungry. I experienced what were probably moderate anxiety attacks combined with intermittent spells of real grief. I could only compare what was happening inside of me to the months following the death of my father nearly thirty years earlier.

I knew the counsel of experts: even a modest grief resolution takes at least six to eight months. More than two years later, I am slowly but clearly emerging into the other side of the process. I still have residual doubts about loss of ties with my church staff, about our new life on a farm, and about the new leadership development position. However, I also believe I have received a marvelous opportunity and a worthy journey for the next few years. I am slowly learning to be grateful for something new and challenging in my life. I am entering a new future with growing hope.

A colleague reflected with me: “Retirement is really a form of repositioning.” I like that expression. I am repositioning for a new stage of my life and ministry.

Elaine and I return to my former church for worship on occasion. I now know that I no longer want to be in charge. I miss the staff family, the discipline of sermon planning and preaching, the celebrations, and even the struggles. But I know a rising contentment and budding enthusiasm for my life and direction in these days—after some restless, strange, and uncomfortable months. I sense an emerging appreciation for my place in this retirement calling. I believe that a good and gracious God is part of the process with me. And I patiently await some healthy, worthy visions to unfold.


Brian K. Bauknight is a retired elder in the Western Pennsylvania Annual Conference. This article was first published in Circuit Rider (May/June/July 2010). Printable PDF available here.