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“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott

“You are going to feel like hell if you never write the stuff that is tugging on the sleeves of your heart — your stories, visions, memories, visions and songs. Your truth, your version of things, your own voice. That is really all you have to offer us. And that’s also why you were born.”
Anne Lamott

Category: Intersections

Intersections- Retirement

George 4 Comments
This post continues a series entitled intersections. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but,  that’s not how life goes.

Recently, during a much appreciated breakfast with Grandson Grayson, he asked a question, “Is retirement fun?”

That launched a protracted response that was probably more than he wanted to hear. Regardless, the question prompted me to continue my series of posts on intersections along my journey.

I believe Grayson’s question betrays some contemporary concepts about retirement. Primarily, retirement is viewed as the time of life when we enjoy the fruits of our labor, the culmination of the American dream. It is the good life, happiness, golf, beaches, travel, vibrant sexuality, financial security, and certainly fun, essentially a perpetual vacation. Such a vision shouldn’t come as a surprise, it is the relentless message of media. 

The problem is, that imagery, like most of the ads we consume, does not depict reality,  but creates an illusion. That illusion dominates our expectations of retirement. Perhaps you have visited Florida a in the winter when the annual migration of snowbirds is at its peak. There seems to be  a prevailing sense of urgency to find the proverbial “pot of gold” at the end of life’s rainbow. You quickly learn not to get in the way. Sometimes it feels like shopping at Walmart on Black Friday. I have observed that many seem to have a attitude of entitlement, often reflected in their dour countenance, if not in outright anger. 

I am coming to understand their state of mind. They bought into the media created illusion of retirement, investing their money, dreams and energy. Now, receiving the dividends on their investment, reality sets in, they have been scammed and they are pissed. 

Of course, there are some who find the retirement “pot of gold” just like there are some people who live in multi-million dollar mansions on the beach and drive Bentleys. Can I say we just need to “get real”?

What follows are some thoughts on what I see as realities of retirement.

Retirement is not the end, it is the beginning of the end.

Generally, we seem to think of retirement as an event, a day of endings, no more … get-ups … going to work … et al. Certainly as an event, retirement is the occasion of endings. but it is also the beginning of the end. Because the period of our lives that we are entering is a transition, the term retirement, I believe, is inadequate. For that reason, I suggest a better description would be autumn.  

Autumn is transition rather than termination. When we view the full scope of our lives, autumn is most akin to adolescence in reverse. Adolescence is transition from child to adult, moving from dependence to independence, immaturity to maturity, achieving and acquiring personally and materially. 

Autumn is the reverse, transition from independence to dependence, from achievement and acquisition personally and materially to diminishment  and release of everything, sooner, if not later. The most profound reality of the retirement event is that the end is coming, no exceptions. The wild card for us  is that we have no guarantee how long our autumn will be. 

For most people, that’s not a problem. Everything we see and hear, excepting those funeral director ads, presumes there is no end. It seems to be okay with most people, which explains why, at least in part, we are susceptible to being scammed. Understanding the tentativeness of our mortality makes autumn planning a crap shoot of sorts, but I guess that’s true of life. 

Currently the average years of autumn in the United States is 18 years. Reasonably, we should plan for that length of time. Note: I am 77 years old and have been in autumn 20 years! I said it is a crap shoot. 

Autumn Financial Planning

Given the Ideal of an American dream autumn, the primary focus of autumn planning is necessarily financial. No matter what one’s autumn turns out to be, finances will be an concern. Typically, the beginning of autumn means the cessation of ordinary income. Without provisions for other sources of income, autumn can quickly turn to winter. A key factor in planning for autumn is realistic understanding of the amount of money that will be needed to sustain your expected lifestyle, starting as early as possible saving to assure the monies will be there when needed. It sounds simple, but the complexities and demands of life, coupled with illusions of immortality, make financial planning a challenge.

Planning for Autumn

As it stands now, nearly 1/4 of our lives will be spent in autumn and all indications are that it will continue to increase. Preparing for autumn is clearly necessary. Financial implications, as mentioned, are a primary concern. Not withstanding financial factors, there are other considerations which are important and require planning. 

Autumn is an era of our lives that is fraught with uniques challenges. Unlike our adolescence where our aspirations looked to the future, our autumn lens is a rear-view mirror. 

Autumn brings a paradox of regret and celebration, lament and joy. Coming to terms with one’s mortality has a way stripping away illusions. If one’s worth and purpose and meaning is centered in work and/or career, prompt cessation of them will likely produce a deep sense of loss. Worthlessness and lack of purpose and meaning are real challenges in autumn. To the extent that our worth and purpose and meaning are inextricably bound to our pre-autumn identity, we will struggle with transition to a new reality. 

Some would argue, despite loss of extrinsic sources of worth and purpose and meaning, there are new and different opportunities to fill that void. That is certainly  true. Many are content with golf, gardening, volunteering, social activism, religion, et al.  Unfortunately, not all of such opportunities are bulletproof, meaning they will withstand both enviable and unexpected realities of autumn. Did I say autumn is a crap shoot?  

A deficiency of retirement planning primarily focused on finances is that it ignores the equally important need to plan for provision of transcendent resources. Resources that can transcend and/or mitigate the arduous and uneven journey through autumn. Resources which are mostly intrinsic and lend themselves to addressing issues of worth, purpose and meaning. 

Such resources, as I currently perceive them, would primarily be categorized as relational, …family, service, employment, volunteering, reading, writing, et al.

The possibilities are myriad. It is my intention to plant seeds and encourage the idea of autumn planning beyond finances. 

Candidly, what I am suggesting was not an objective part of our retirement planning experience. If I had a do over, here are some thoughts on what I would consider in addition to financial planning.

  • I would engage in a serious self-assessment of my mental, emotional, spiritual and physical health with the intention of achieving clarity regarding the sources of worth, meaning and purpose in my life. 
  • Once I had clarity on that reality, I would assess the vulnerability of those sources relative to my anticipated retirement plans/dreams.
  • Subsequently, modify any current plans/dreams to minimize potential negative impact on the quality of my mental, emotional, spiritual, and physical health in the autumn of life.
  • Next, assess financial plans against the new vision and adjust accordingly.
  • Live happily(worthfully, meaningfully, purposefully, healthfully ) ever(?) after.

I am of the opinion, that to a significant extent, our autumn experience will mirror our lives up to that point. To that end, as with financial planning, the earlier the above thoughts are appropriated and acted upon the better autumn will be. There is no time in our lives that has more potential for the beautiful things life has to offer.

“It’s never too late to…” is a lie!

Intersections- Lament

George 0 Comments
This post continues a series entitled intersections. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but,  that’s not how life goes.

In the months that have followed our grandson’s suicide, the subject of lament has dominated  much of my thinking.  It is reasonable to anticipate an encounter with lament in the midst of such a tragedy.  Our grief was saturated with expressions of lament at a depth we had never experienced before. However,  my primary motive for continued inquiry comes not so much from experiencing  lament, but, the absence of lament. 

In a post entitled  “Intersections – Grief”, I wrote this paragraph:

Hopeful of some mystical elixir that would heal my grief, I attended church the following Sunday. What I encountered in worship was revealing. I did not experience comfort. The songs and music were offensive. The atmosphere of jubilance was hollow. Instead of feeling the embrace of community, I felt very alone and isolated. 

I was deeply disappointed. I needed and hoped to receive solace, but departed with unrequited grief. The worship presentation was not unusual in any discernible way. An ordinary Sunday morning worship experience became inexplicably alien. As always, I was nagged by the question, why?

Perhaps, grief had impacted the chords of my heart in such a way that what had previously been  harmonious was suddenly discordant. Certainly the tragic and unexpected circumstances of our grief was unprecedented for us. What I have come to conclude is, that, in fact, that Sunday worship was ordinary. It was worship as expected, even more than expected, required.  What became apparent that morning was the prevalence of a culture of celebration. My grief filtered out, what would have, on any other Sunday, been an encouraging, affirming experience. I was left with silence. There was no place for lament that my soul desperately needed. 

Those who live in celebration “are concerned with questions of proper management and joyous celebration .” Instead of deliverance, they seek constancy and sustainability. “The well-off do not expect their faith to begin in a cry, but rather, in a song. They do not expect or need intrusion, but they rejoice in stability [and the] durability of a world and social order that have been beneficial to them.” Praise is the language of celebration. Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times

My initial response was to minimize the issue and rationalize the absence of  lament. However, as I began to read and study on the subject of lament, I found I was not alone in my concern.  Numerous writings by scholars and theologians over centuries of Christian history have grappled with lament and its role in in the faith of the individual and community. 

Richard Beck, writing in reference to Emmanuel Kant’s views on lament presents a challenging critique of lament in Christian culture:

If you live with a view of God that guarantees that your faith and virtue will be rewarded then, for Kant, your faith is simply self-interest. Again, virtue cannot exist for Kant if the outcome is guaranteed. If reward and eternal bliss are sure bets, well, can you really be praised for taking a non-existent risk? 

This is really a profound critique of much of what is happening in Christian culture. For example, many have lamented (no pun intended) the excessive praise-orientation in much of popular Christian worship. Much of Christianity is triumphalistic. Health and wealth visions of the gospel are also very popular. By being a Christian we can get Our Best Life Now!
We often see these trends as symptoms of superficiality. But Kant’s critique hits harder. It is not just that these forms of Christianity are emotionally shallow. Kant shows that these praise-dominated faith systems are void of all authenticity. For when the links between virtue and happiness are fully in hand faith demands nothing of us. Religion reduces to expressions of human self-interest and selfish calculation. Kant calls this idolatry.
The flip side of the equation is that true authenticity is found in a faith full of lament. It’s not just that lament is emotionally “deeper” or more “real” than the emotions of praise. Rather, lament is expressed in the face of evil, in a world where the links between virtue and happiness have broken down. Thus, to have faith or to act with virtue in a world of lament calls upon something more than self-interest. Faith and virtue have no guarantees in the experience of lament. Thus, for Kant, only faith and virtue expressed from lament are truly authentic.


Thinking about the assertion that “true authenticity is found in a faith full of  lament”, I would suggest that what the worship I experienced that Sunday morning was at its core, inauthentic. My conclusion is not a judgement based on the motives or hearts of the participants. Rather, it comes from the reality that many, if not most, of the hearts of those present on any given Sunday are broken or wounded and need to voice their complaint to a God who cares. To the extent that is true, worship without lament will be inauthentic.

If you dwell excessively in the world of Psalm 1 and never live in the world of lament can you be living an authentic Christian life?

I feel if I have only touched the tip of the lament iceberg . More to come.

Intersections – Racial Reconciliation & Social Justice

George 0 Comments

This post continues a series entitled intersections. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but,  that’s not how life goes.

The most recent intersection on my journey has been  an engagement with  racial reconciliation and social justice. In the fall of  2017, following some disturbing national events centered around racial conflicts, several couples and a few individuals at our church concerned about racial unrest  initiated meetings to provide opportunity for conversations about racism. The subject of racism had not been  a regular topic, with the exception of  an occasional recognition that it is a sin.  The initial meetings were tense and somewhat awkward. For some attendees, the most pressing question seemed to be: “Why are we talking about this?” 

Subsequent to a couple of general meetings at church, there was an open invitation to participate in further conversation at a member’s home. I decided to participate. For more than a year, I have continued to participate in regular conversations, read numerous books and articles and been challenged in ways that I never anticipated. 

My understandings and perceptions of racism, racial reconciliation and social justice have been profoundly altered. I have no illusion that my education is adequate and certainly not complete. It is my intention to continue learning. The prescription of the lens through which I view the world has changed and I believe provides better clarity. 

It is my intention to write about what has changed for me, and why, in subsequent posts. 

To conclude this post, I want to explain why I decided to join a conversation on  racism and racial reconciliation.  

The primary and most naive and misguided reason: I was confident that I could contribute in a positive way toward making progress in improving racism and racial reconciliation. At 76 years of age, with decades of experience and wisdom from leadership responsibilities in business and church, I would be a valuable asset.

I was concerned that the church has been mostly silent about racial issues, and the demographics of our congregation did not reflect a diversity consistent with the kingdom of God. 

I believed there were significant changes happening in our society that were impacting racial relations in a negative way.

Foremost, was the influence of my granddaughter, Meredith. A passionate social justice advocate, she has challenged me at every turn. Relentlessly confronting me with the inconsistencies and injustices in my own life and in society, I  could not ignore what had become painfully obvious.

Over the course of the past year+, I have come to understand the truth of Timothy Tyson’s assertion:

“We cannot address the place we find ourselves because we will not acknowledge the road that brought us here.”   Tyson, Timothy B.. Blood Done Sign My Name (p. 311)

I have made progress in understanding and acknowledging the road that has brought me to where I am today. It is my hope that I will now find the will and courage to act.

With each post, I plan to provide some reference material should my readers want to pursue the subject further. For this post, I am including Whiteness 101, an article that was extremely challenging to read and, perhaps, for some ended any further conversation.

Whiteness 101Download

Intersections – Grief

George 7 Comments

Within eyesight of four score years, I consider myself to be acquainted with grief. I have experienced the loss of my parents, grandparent, uncles and aunts, cousins, in-laws and numerous friends including the unexpected loss of my best friend. Additionally, over the years I have had occasion to minister to others in their grief. 

In each of those circumstances grief was present. Expressions of grief from the bereaved varied widely but always  produced feelings of sympathy and sorrow on my part. Years of experience both as a bereaved and as a comforter, left me with cautious confidence that I was qualified to deal with grief.  

Then, on December 10, 2018, we received a call from our daughter Melissa to tell us her oldest son Ryan had taken his own life. At that moment,  grief I had been acquainted with was overshadowed by an alien grief. A soul penetrating pain that came with that news stripped away superficial consolations my previous experiences with grief had taught me. There was no comfort adequate for the moment, not even God.  “My God, why have you forsaken me?” 

In the succeeding days, that alien grief took up residence. I recognized its presence in our daughter and son-in-law and their remaining children. It gripped my wife Ann tenaciously, leaving her inconsolable . It was pervasive. 

The memorial service, with beautiful eulogies and sincere prayers and expressions of love and concern by several hundred friends and family revealed an unsettling paradox. Words and embraces were welcomed, appropriate and appreciated but  insufficient to penetrate to the depth where alien grief had taken up residence.

Hopeful of some mystical elixir that would heal my grief, I attended church the following Sunday. What I encountered in worship was revealing. I did not experience comfort. The songs and music were offensive. The atmosphere of jubilance was hollow. Instead of feeling the embrace of community, I felt very alone and isolated. 

In the weeks and months since, as I have thought about those experiences and others, I have some observations, in no particular order:

  • Not all grief is the same and not all people grieve the same. 
  • Consolation offered to the bereaved is expected and appropriate but should never be considered sufficient .
  • Consolation should leave room for and welcome lament.
  • Grief is not something you get past, it is something you have to learn to live with.
  • When lament is repressed, healing is deferred.
  • I will never see grief in the way I did before.
  • Faith in God cannot be measured by a response in the moments of grief, but can be seen by how one learns to live with grief and minister to other’s grief.
  • It is in the midst of grief that authenticity, repentance, redemption and love find opportunity.

I am sure this is not a final word on grief for you or me.

Intersections – Religion

George 0 Comments

This post continues a series entitled intersections. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but,  that’s not how life goes.

In the early years of our marriage, our religious experience was mostly characterized by regular church attendance. The demands of small children and irregular shift work impeded the kind of church involvement we had experienced growing up in our respective families.

Moving to Louisville in 1964 we joined (placed membership) the Okolona Church of Christ. Our pattern of regular church attendance and nominal involvement continued until the arrival of a new minister and his family. We were immediately drawn to them and they became our surrogate family. That influence, plus the encouragement of the educational minister, led to some teaching opportunities ( my 2 years of Christian college education was a qualifying factor).

I experienced an emergence of religious fervor fueled, in part by the guilt of youthful indiscretions, abandonment of faithfulness (sins of omission and commission),  mixed with a desire to be a good Christian. Also, there was the fear of going to hell.

As a result, I dedicated myself to correcting my life and trying to do everything possible to be a good Christian. Those days were exhilarating. I was a rising religious star.

During that time I was particularly convicted that Jesus calls us to help the poor and disadvantaged.  I became aware of a need at the East End Boy’s Club in downtown Louisville. They were in need of coaches for youth football on Saturdays. I signed up and was pleased to find an opportunity for ministry that was also fun and rewarding.

It was on a Saturday while coaching at East End Boy’s Club that I experienced a  memorable intersection of life and religion. I remember it with great clarity As I watched those young boys, images of my young, pregnant wife at home with our three energetic boys and no driver’s license, or car for that matter, flooded over me. Their husband and father had abandoned his responsibilities to them so that he could satisfy his religious needs. The voice I heard was clear, “What a fool you are”!

That was the first time I realized the destructive potential of religion. I resigned from that volunteer opportunity and returned home to ‘”coach” our young  boys. I would like to say  that event marked my transformation from religion to the pursuit of a relationship with Jesus, but it wasn’t. Only years later would I understand the implications of religion to my spiritual  journey.