Retirement

Do not cast me away at the time of my old age; Do not abandon me when my strength fails.  Psalm 71:9

Cast me away – Retire sooner—die sooner.  Oh, oops!  I thought that should have read, “Retire sooner—live longer,” but in fact the research seems to point in the other direction.  A study reported in the Harvard Business Review interviewed Dr. Chenkai Wu:

“Our theory is that a later retirement may actually delay when your physical and cognitive functioning starts to decline, because work keeps your mind and body active. If you stay active and socially engaged, it helps maintain your cognitive and physical abilities.”[1]

We can appreciate how deeply we are identified with our work when the standard greeting upon meeting someone is, “What do you do?”  There’s a certain reticence, perhaps embarrassment, with the answer, “Oh, I’m retired.”  A culture that is fixated on the young has some serious implications for older people.  They are often viewed as antiquated, worn out, useless, no longer productive members of society.  When those ideas are absorbed into one’s identity, death seems to follow.  “I’m of no value to anyone anymore,” is the sad conclusion of many after their official working days are over.  But this isn’t just a modern problem.  Consider the words of the psalmist.  He’s concerned that even God has a statute of limitation on usefulness.

“Do not cast me away,” in Hebrew ‘al-tas’ likeni.  The root verb is šālak, which means “to throw, to cast, to hurl.”  You will notice the violent undertone of the word.  The action is not a final congratulation or a retirement celebration.  It’s more like being kicked out the door, pushed aside, left to fend for yourself.  It’s important in this Hebrew text to notice the form of the negative.  It’s ‘al not lo.  What’s the difference?  Both words are translated “no” or “not,” but ‘al is a conditional negative (it may or may not be the case) while lo is an unconditional negative (it is never the case).  The poet really says, “It isn’t necessary to push me aside, is it, Lord?  I’m still useful to You, aren’t I?”

I don’t expect to retire—ever!  I’ll just keep writing, probing, thinking, and taking photographs until I die.  What worries me isn’t lack of work.  It’s the physical injuries and disabilities that might make work impossible.  What would happen if I couldn’t see?  What if I can’t walk?  What if I experience dementia?  Then I might have the same questions that the poet raises.  Toward the end of their lives, both my parents reached a state of listlessness, a sort of longing for it to be over.  Immobile, both in their nineties, they just waited for the end.  I don’t see myself like that—although I certainly know it is possible.  That scares me.  I don’t want to be useless.  Like the poet, I want to think God still has a purpose for me up to the minute I’m no longer here.  “Don’t leave me when I can’t do anything anymore.”  I don’t like to think about this.  Maybe you don’t either.  But I can’t erase this verse.  It’s here for a reason.

Topical Index: retirement, cast away, šālak, Psalm 71:9

[1] Chenkai Wu, https://hbr.org/2016/10/youre-likely-to-live-longer-if-you-retire-after-65