Aging Out: A 30-something looks at 40

By the REV. TIMOTHY SCHENCK

The clock is ticking. A few more years and I’ll officially forego membership in any 20’s and 30’s ministry. I don’t think I’m having a pre-midlife crisis but it does give me pause. For years, much of my identity has been as a “young person” in the church. Or, for the past five years, as a “young priest” in the church. My days are numbered.

Everyone recognizes the importance of drawing younger people into the church. And it’s exciting to be part of a group that is so celebrated and welcomed into a congregation. To be a young member of a faith community is perceived as somewhat unusual. People are amazed that you nurture a relationship with God while so many of your peers, at least those seen on reality television shows, are into the superficial rather than the supernatural.
Ask any 28-year-old who walks into a new parish and they’ll tell you it’s like being a rock star. Everyone wants to shake your hand, personally welcome you and insist you come to Coffee Hour. All while insisting that they’re not “desperate” for young people or anything. Stick around and you may well find yourself on the fast-track to the vestry.

A 40-year-old sitting in a pew, on the other hand, is hardly a rarity. They’re supposed to be there. The metabolism has slowed down, they’re more settled, Saturday night frolicking has given way to a 9:00 pm bedtime, especially for those with kids. But let’s face it, there are no “40-Something” ministries. No books have been published about evangelizing 40-year-olds. There are no alarming statistics presented about the number of priests under the age of 40. There’s nothing glamorous about being a 40-something-year-old churchgoer.

For many of us on the cusp of 40 the real issue is the realization of our own mortality. We’re used to feeling and acting as if we’re invincible. And this often hits in very personal ways. When I entered my mid-30’s I realized that if I was a major league baseball player (some fantasies die a slow, painful death), I would no longer be signed to a multi-year contract. I’d be destined to a series of one-year deals for the rest of my playing career. Fortunately physical prowess is less important in parish ministry and my congregation hasn’t made any noise about trading me for a “rector to be named later.”

So, aging out of 20’s/30’s ministries is merely a symptom of the deeper issue. There is a sense of loss, a grieving of sorts for a time in life that is passing. Life is full of transitions, of course. Aging is merely one of the more tangible ones. And everyone can take comfort in the presence of the risen Christ through the various stages of life. It’s one of the realities of a faith-filled existence. But late 30’s living is still a strange place to be. My heart is with the 20’s and 30’s ministry but my birth certificate will soon say otherwise.

As I often do in times of uncertainty, I turn to the prophetic voice of singer-songwriter Jimmy Buffett. And I can take solace in his classic song “A Pirate Looks at Forty.” Reflecting on the effects of aging, he sings “Yes I am a pirate, two hundred years too late. The cannons don’t thunder, there’s nothin’ to plunder, I’m an over-forty victim of fate. Arriving too late, arriving too late.”

Arriving too late indeed. In the meantime, maybe I’ll get myself a fake ID so I can still sneak into those hip 20’s/30’s gatherings when my membership officially expires.

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