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.