
There are no doubt pros and cons that a retiring pastor considers when contemplating whether he should move away from where he pastored, or whether he can remain active, supporting the ministry of his successor. For sure, there will be no shortage of advice offered, all free of charge.
We chose to remain at the church I pastored here in Indianapolis for 40 years, living in the same house that we have lived in, adjacent to the church, for more than 44 years. It is not the purpose of this post to discuss the pros and cons of this arrangement (we are grateful for it!), but rather to focus on one aspect of the life of a “retired” pastor who remains in the community/church in which he fulfilled a long-time pastorate.
Strangely, I suppose, I want to talk about the memories that I carry with me every hour of every day. The faces, the service, the love, the stresses, the losses and gains, and on and on.
Last week I was sure I saw Clovus Wayman. Clovus has been in heaven for 25 years, at least. But, as I was waiting in a line to pick up an online order, there he was, next up at the register. Now, what I was looking at was the back of a man’s head, and the form of the frame of his body—shoulders, stance, bent of head, etc. I knew of course that this particular person was not the real Clovus Wayman, a dear faithful friend and member of our church from the time I arrived in 1979 to the time God called him to glory. Clovus and his wife Hazel went to Florida every winter, but the day they returned—always about this time of the year—they would drive by the church to give me a hug (well, Hazel did, not Clovus) and to let me know they were back. They lived half a mile from the church and were always quiet, supportive, faithful. I will never forget the face of my dear friend, Clovus. It was etched with multiple deep, deep wrinkles which made him look very old; but one never saw him without his flashing a faint smile. Very few words. One time, though, I think at a seniors luncheon, Clovus opened up and said something that really startled me; it was sometime in the month of May and for a full month, in Indianapolis, all you hear about is the “greatest spectacle in racing”—the Indianapolis 500. Clovus said, “I have lived in Indianapolis all my life and I have never once seen the 500 race track.” Matter of fact like! He had to have been in his 80’s when he said that. The 500 track was no more than a 20 minute drive from where he lived. Every May, 300,000 plus people come from all over the world to see 33 Indy race cars on the oval track, their teams poised and their drivers patiently waiting for the “Gentlemen, Start Your Engines.” Clovus lived next door to it for almost a century and never laid his eyes on it!
Here is another factor that is unique to pastors who retire from a long-term ministry and remain in the same church and live in the same place: almost everywhere you go—to the grocery store, to the gas station, to a restaurant, to the doctor’s office or hospital—you will drive by streets or neighborhoods where your church members, most of them now with Jesus, lived and where on many occasions you sat down in their living rooms to visit with them, read scripture, and pray. Their faces, names, likes and dislikes, the apartment or little framed house that they lived in, the name of the street they lived on, and much more will come to your mind about them, including who their best friends were and much more. A fast, mental bio of these people races through your mind and you whisper a prayer to God thanking Him that you had the honor, the privilege, to be their pastor, sharing their joys, griefs, victories, defeats, sorrow—ministering to them, in some cases, for decades, and becoming like a family member. Visits to the hospital when they were sick, and memories of their passing and memorial services, ending with a comital of their mortal remains at a local cemetery will, at random, flash through your heart, head, soul. All as you drive by a certain street on your way to drop off some laundry!
For the most part, these memories are pleasant, not painful. And, it should be noted that I am not living in the past. But, there are certain people, places, and personalities that cannot be erased from a pastor’s heart and mind because of the sheep-shepherd relationship that was once between them. To be sure, there are a few memories that are unpleasant and unwise to dwell upon; but, by far, most of the remembrances are joyful and result in a whispered prayer of thanksgiving to God for allowing Ellen and myself to have shared in their lives, loves, losses. And, it is a reminder that, “over yonder,” when our life’s work is ended and the bright and glorious morning we shall see, not only shall we know Him and worship Him, we shall know them and worship Him with them. And “it will be worth it all, when we see Jesus!” Selah.
“Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us.” (Hebs. 12:1)








