The Invisible Elder

The older I get, the more invisible I feel. Like the narrator in Ralph Ellison’s classic work, The Invisible Man, I experience social invisibility because of a characteristic that is beyond my control. In my case it is age rather than race. And like Ellison’s invisible man, "I am not complaining, nor am I protesting either." I am just describing the way it is. 

I am not that old. At least I do not think of myself as old. I do not feel old ... most days. But I guess old is relative. I consider old as anyone older than me, and there are lots of people older than me. I see them in church every Sunday! And in Florida! Yet apparently I am old enough to be wearing a Potteresque invisibility cloak in other social settings.  

For example no one asks me “what I do” any longer. It used to be a standard question when meeting new people. Now people presume I don’t do anything. They assume I am retired. I am no longer seen as important to society, except as a consumer. That is why the poor are doubly invisible when they get old. 

In our town I am increasingly known as my grandchildren’s grandpa or my son’s father. They do not remember me as the former pastor of the village church. A boy called out to my wife the other day, “Hello, Jonah’s grandma!” No name was needed. My wife and I are defined by our relationship to visible people.  

I am not always invisible. Last Sunday we visited a new church, just to see what was being preached in the area. The pews were mostly populated by elders. For that reason I was seen. Invisible people can see each other. Several people asked my name and shook my hand. I was even recognized by a couple of people.  

Church is exactly the type of place where all types of invisible people should be seen. That is especially true of people that our society wants to disappear. Like immigrants, LGBTQ folks, people of color, and the homeless. Society wants them to go away. The role of the church in society is to make them visible. 

The New Testament Letter to the Hebrews describes the faith of Moses as “seeing him who is invisible.” The Greek text says literally “seeing the invisible one.” The spiritual realm is by its nature invisible to the human eye. It is not registered by the body’s senses. The mission of the church is to make the invisible visible. 

Jesus told Nicodemus that unless one is born of the Spirit one cannot see the Kingdom of God. The advantage of being invisible is that it is easier to see the invisible, both invisible people and invisible spiritual reality. The Spirit is easier to access when one is unseen. There is less ego to get in the way ... hopefully. 

Of course many old folks have plenty of ego. It is their last defense against becoming invisible. That is why old men of both major political parties wanted to be president this time around. Political office allows one to be seen. People want to be remembered. That is what legacy is all about. That is what celebrity is about. P. T. Barnum said, “There is no such thing as bad publicity.” Both celebrity and notoriety makes us visible.  

We are watching the new Matlock television series starring Kathy Bates as a seventy-five year old lawyer returning to the workforce. In the first episode she says, “There's this funny thing that happens when women age: we become damn near invisible.” That invisibility becomes her superpower in the show. 

Being "damn near invisible" can be a good thing. It can be a spiritual blessing. That is what Jesus’ beatitudes are about. Blessed are the poor in spirit ... Blessed are the meek ... the pure in heart ... the persecuted. Come to think of it, that is what all of the beatitudes are about. It is what carrying the cross is about. Jesus fellowshipped with the invisible. So do his disciples today.  

 

Autumn Election

This has been a spectacular autumn foliage season in New Hampshire. The colors are extraordinary here in the Lakes Region this year. The warm, dry summer-like weather has made the viewing of the leaves even more pleasant. But along with the autumn foliage comes the fall election. That has been much less pleasant. In fact the political climate of this election season has been downright nasty. 

Pondering these two regular autumn occurrences – elections and foliage - makes me wonder if they have more in common than I realized. After all, autumn means the death of annual flower and vegetable gardens. The beautiful colors of autumn are caused by the dying of the leaves. Already the maple leaves are decaying on the ground, providing nutrients for the next growing season. Hopefully the political manure of this autumn will also serve as fertilizer for a better spring. 

The cycle of nature causes me to look at the cycle of nations. It makes me wonder if our American culture is also dying. Nations and empires do not last forever. Ask any Brit about the British Empire. It is a shadow of its former self. In the Bible we read about the great Assyrian, Babylonian, Persian, Greek and Roman empires. Those ancient superpowers are dead and gone.  

Why do empires fall? I was watching a television detective show the other day. Primetime dramas are not generally known for their wisdom, but I heard some truth in this episode. A mom was asking her son about his homework, specifically about the reason for the fall of the Roman Empire. The boy responded with a one word answer: “Hubris.” That about sums it up.  

There is a lot of hubris on display in America these days. I think it is destroying our nation and our culture, not to mention our religion. I would not be surprised if we are witnessing the beginning of the end of the American experiment. People on both sides of the political spectrum are warning of such a thing ... if the other side wins. I suspect at least one of them is correct; perhaps both of them are right.  

It seems to me that many people can no longer discern right from wrong, truth from falsehood, or good from evil. Especially distressing to me as a pastor is the role of popular American Christianity in the decline of public and private morality. Financial and sex scandals have revealed the rot at the core of the American church for years. The current sell-out of the church to political power makes it clear that any authentic spiritual power is now gone from the pulpit and pew. 

Jesus said that you can discern the health of a tree by its fruit. The fruit of popular Christianity these days is rotten. That does not mean there are not genuine followers of Jesus in America. You can find them in nearly every church. But genuine Jesus-followers are a small spiritual minority in a large religious institution that has lost its way. Call this faithful remnant the Moral Minority.  

The situation makes me sad. Perhaps this feeling is just the result of the decrease in sunlight as we leave the autumnal equinox behind and head toward the winter solstice. The loss of daylight tends to affect my mood. But I suspect it is more than that. There is a lack of spiritual light in the church. The American nation and the American church seem to have forgotten what they are and what they are meant to be.  

I am not sure that this election – or any future election – can turn around this cultural and spiritual decline. I hope it can delay it a bit and give us a chance to change course. Yet it has been a long time coming, and I suspect it will be a long time before it turns around. King Solomon is said to have been asked to create a signet motto that would be true in both good and bad times. He responded, "This, too, will pass away."  

The glory days of American political and cultural leadership in the world may be passing away. The days of the Christian church’s spiritual and moral leadership have already passed away. The hypocrisy of the church has caused it to lose any credibility in the eyes of society. I only pray that this winter of decay is short-lived and that a spring of resurrection will come sooner rather than later.