If you follow-the American job-then-retirement narrative, you’re supposed to go to college, get a job, work for forty years, retire, and then spend the rest of your days on the tennis court or golf course. The implicit storyline is, there’s a time in your life when you are on the razor’s edge, you know your field, and you ply your trade, but at some point you become dull, rusty, and eventually obsolete—hence, most people retire. For me, what epitomizes this American way of life was my grandparents—they were hard working people, but in their retirement they lived from meal to meal interspersed with morning, afternoon, and evening game shows—the Price is Right, $10,000 Pyramid, Jeopardy, and Wheel of Fortune. My family and I once bought my grandmother a new Bible—we were hoping she would read it and I had high hopes that she would because she was, after all, retired. I did the impolite thing and asked her whether she’d had a chance to read her new Bible to which she responded, “Oh no dear, not yet—I am, after all, very busy.”

            Needless to say, this standard narrative has never sat well with me. I’m not opposed to the idea of people retiring after many decades of work. They have worked hard, so why not enjoy the fruit of their labor? But what I’ve found disquieting is the static nature that characterizes some retirements. I’ve seen some light, however, at the end of the tunnel and from where I stand, it doesn’t look like a train!

            One of the more interesting books I’ve read is, Boyd: The Fighter Pilot Who Changed the Art of War. This is a biography about a highly talented Korean War-era fighter pilot. He was a true “stick and rudder” man, which means he could fly the wings off a plane. His colleagues called him “forty-second Boyd,” because that’s all it usually took for Boyd to win a mock aerial dogfight. If Boyd followed the common American narrative, he would have retired after a fruitful career in the Air Force and spent his remaining days on the golf course. But Boyd did something entirely different. Late in life Boyd started studying philosophy, science, physics, and even learned German so he could read Hegel and other German philosophers. Boyd applied his knowledge to a number of different fields including fighter-jet theory and design as well as war-fighting theory. He not only influenced the development of a number of key Air Force fighters, such as the F-15 and F-16, but he also developed war-fighting strategies that were used in Desert Storm (1991) and ideas that the Marine Corps still teaches its officers at the Basic School. Boyd could have stepped off the field and retired, but instead he continued to apply his mind, continue to learn, and be productive well after the so-called “retirement” age.

            Needless to say, Boyd has become a significant influence upon my own life and ministry goals. I’m not saying I’ll never retire—there may come a point where I decide to end my formal full-time employment. But one thing, I believe, I’ll never do is stop learning. I always want to learn and apply my knowledge. I don’t want to become stale. But this desire is not ultimately about personal life-goals but rather a desire to be of the greatest utility in the service of Christ’s church. Christ has called all Christians, young and old to serve him and the body of Christ—a calling that has no terminus. If this is the case, then I want to be of the most use to him for as long as possible. Like the parable of the talents, I don’t want to bury my God-given talents (whatever they are). Rather, I want to invest them so that when the master returns he’ll be pleased with how I used his gifts. By all means, therefore, look forward to retirement. But whether you’re employed or not, always seek to keep your sickle sharp so you’ll be of the greatest use in the work of the harvest to which Christ has called us all.