Becoming a Pastor Later in Life

It turns out that I – along with Gary Hoeksema – am part of a trend.

First, a little of my story.

A year ago this past January, I retired as a senior writer for the Christian Reformed Church. 

But I didn’t stop working. I soon became a school crossing guard for Grand Rapids (Mich.) Public Schools, continued writing occasional stories for the CRC, and took on the role of doing community outreach for my church, Coit Community CRC in Grand Rapids.

Now age 73, I enjoy staying busy. In fact, according to AARP, it turns out that I am part of the fastest growing segment of the U.S. workforce. While the total number of workers has been expected to increase by 5 percent between 2014 and 2024, the number of workers ages 65 to 74 has been projected to swell by a whopping 55 percent.

There apparently are lots of reasons for this – people staying healthier longer, a need to continue earning money to pay the bills, a greater acceptance of hiring older workers, or simply the desire to stay engaged in the world by continuing to work.

In the Christian community, in some instances, it can also be the call of God into ministry that keeps people working well beyond what used to be the “normal” retirement age of 65.

As I mentioned, I do work for my church. I am a commissioned pastor, and as community outreach coordinator, I am out there several hours a week connecting in various ways with people living in what is called the Belknap Lookout neighborhood. I know it has been God’s nudging that keeps me in that part-time job.

That’s a part of Gary Hoeksema’s story too.

In a phone interview, he told me he had heard a call from God into ministry after spending a long and satisfying career as a respiratory therapist at Rehoboth Christian Hospital in Gallup, N.Mex.

Joining the ranks of that mushrooming group noted by AARP, Hoeksema, 75, was ordained as a commissioned pastor and installed late last year as the full-time pastor of Church Rock (N.Mex.) Christian Reformed Church.

Among those who were surprised by this development was his granddaughter. She wanted to know why Grandpa Hoeksema wanted to be a minister and probably would not have as much time to spend with her.

“I asked her if she had ever heard God asking her to do something, and she said she had,” said Hoeksema. “So I told her, when God is calling you, you don’t say ‘no.’ I told her that this is what God wanted me to do.”

Hoeksema’s age came up, he said, during the conversation with the congregation at Church Rock before they voted to hire him. Someone asked him, “At your age, how long do you foresee being here?” Hoeksema answered, “God has blessed me with good health, and so as long as I have a strong voice [for preaching] and the semblance of a good mind, I plan to serve this church.”

Looking back, Hoeksema said his journey into ministry among Navajo people was “slow but sure.”

He grew up in West Michigan and met his wife, Carlene, when he was working as an orderly in patient care and she was finishing her nursing degree at Blodgett Hospital in Grand Rapids.

In those earlier days, he said, she was more involved in church matters than he was. Soon after they married, he went to college and eventually became a respiratory therapist.

After a brief placement in Pennsylvania, Hoeksema’s career took him to oversee the cardio-pulmonary department at Rehoboth Christian Hospital. And there, he said, he got his first taste of ministry, working along with Carlene as a youth group leader – and then later as a small group leader – for many years at Rehoboth CRC.

During those years, Hoeksema said, as he grew more and more familiar with residents of the sprawling Navajo reservation, he found himself wanting to know how to more fully involve himself in ministry. As a result, he attended conferences and retreats and began to take courses in the Classis Red Mesa Leadership Development Network (LDN) Program.

According to a Banner article, the LDN program is a “training course that provides on-site instruction for potential church leaders. The program emphasizes biblical/theological knowledge, ministry skills, and spiritual formation.” It started in 2007 in Classis Red Mesa with an Indigenous focus.

“When I had time, I studied Scripture, pastoral care, the creeds, leadership, and other subjects,” Hoeksema said. 

It took him several years to graduate from the leadership program, he said, and then in 2013 Hoeksema received a license to exhort and began to preach in churches across the Navajo Nation. But even though he enjoyed preaching, Hoeksema said, he didn’t foresee becoming a commissioned pastor. Nor did he see ministry work as a full-time job for himself.

“But I was preaching one Sunday at a church when the people told me how eager they were for [an ordained pastor] . . . to come the next week so that they could take part in the Lord’s Supper,” said Hoeksema. “I learned they had not had communion for three years, and that broke my heart.”

In Classis Red Mesa, he said, it has been hard to fill CRC pulpits for various reasons, and churches unable to celebrate the sacraments is not uncommon. Currently there are three vacant pulpits, and two retirements are coming up this fall.

With all of this in mind and the goal of being able to administer the sacraments, Hoeksema studied to become a commissioned pastor. Though he kept preaching, he said, he and his wife also traveled frequently to spend time with their grandchildren in West Michigan and to visit other spots across the U.S.

Then, Hoeksema said, came a leading from the Lord to consider becoming the full-time pastor of Church Rock CRC. After the death of the former, long-time pastor, Bobby Boyd, Hoeksema preached at the church several times. He was eventually asked by the council to consider becoming their pastor.

Making a decision to say “Yes” wasn’t hard, he said. All that Hoeksema had done in his career – working in health care and in youth ministry and then in filling pulpits across the Navajo Nation – had led him here, he said.

Without realizing it, Hoeksema said, he was ready for another turn in his life, and with the backing of the Church Rock congregation he became the pastor of the small cement-block church in which some hymns are still sung in Navajo.

Stepping into this role showed him, he said, that, among other things, the COVID-19 pandemic continues to plague the Navajo Nation.

The Navajo people, he said, have been disproportionately affected by the virus, facing some of the highest rates in the United States. 

“The problem of COVID hit us badly,” he said. “Even though the mandate to wear masks has been lifted, many people still wear masks out of fear. We are still having COVID deaths here. . . . People are staying home from church, not wanting to expose themselves to COVID.”

Another problem the community continues to face, he said, is the ongoing issue of alcoholism affecting people in the church and across the reservation—especially many of the men.

“I wish so deeply that I knew how to help solve this terrible problem,” he said.

Yet, challenges aside, he said, “I’m loving what I’m doing. I’m so busy during the week, and I wish I had more time to put my sermons together,” he said.

Hoeksema said this new career brings him closer and closer to people and allows him the opportunity to step into their lives and talk with them about their faith. Overall, he said, “I love working with the people, and I feel their love for me.”

After hanging up the phone, I smiled.

It was inspiring to speak with Hoeksema. His joy, good humor, and example confirm for me that there remain places for geezers like me in ministry. And, in the end, I think Gary Hoeksema and I are part of a valuable trend.