Dear Parishioners,

I am currently chairing an ad hoc committee that Bishop Dolan has set on the presbyterial council to write a policy on retirement for diocesan priests in the diocese of Phoenix. Part of the initiative I took was to sit down recently and speak with some retired priests whose opinions I respect, so as to gather their experiences. Allow me to share one of the pieces of feedback I got, which moved me deeply. My retired priest friend said:

“When I stepped away from the parish and sat in my favorite chair, I looked back at decades of service and whispered to myself, so… this is the beginning of the final stretch.” And slowly, the truths I had avoided during years of busy priestly ministry began to surface.

Parishioners? They are busy writing their own stories, being led by new shepherds. Health? It slips away faster than sand through open fingers.

The Diocese? Just headlines, policies, and numbers that never change your daily reality in a quiet house.

Aging doesn’t hurt your body first—it hurts your illusions of being indispensable. So, I sat down with myself and carved out a handful of bitter but necessary truths.

Parishioners don’t save you from loneliness. The people you baptized, married, and buried grow and move on. Life pulls them in every direction, and you become a memory or a name mentioned in the "Prayers of the Faithful" when they remember. You smile at the cards they send… and yet something inside remains strangely hollow. Parishioners bring joy to a priest’s heart—but they are not a shield against the silence of a retired life.

Health is not forever. One day, the early morning Masses and hospital visits you once jumped into with enthusiasm feel like a marathon. You realize health was never a background character—it was the main pillar holding your vocation steady. Retirement and the Pension Retirement is not a reward—it’s a reality check. Depending solely on the institution is like standing on thin ice. Needs grow, costs grow… but the support often stays the same.

So, I rebuilt my life on seven new rules—honest, sharp, practical rules for living with dignity:

• Rule 1: Stewardship of yourself is a duty. Love your parishioners, cherish them—but don’t make their presence your only plan for the future. Cultivate your own inner resources. Financial and emotional independence is dignity.
• Rule 2: Your health is your final mission. Nothing else matters if your body refuses to cooperate. Move. Walk. Stretch. Guard your sleep like a sacred liturgy. Illness doesn’t discriminate, but it respects those who take responsibility for the temple that is their body.
• Rule 3: Create your own joy. Waiting for the phone to ring or for a former parishioner to visit is the fastest way to heartbreak. Learn to enjoy the small things—a peaceful breakfast, a good book, music that warms the soul. When you know how to find God in the silence, loneliness loses its power
• Rule 4: Aging is not an excuse to become helpless. Some people turn aging into a performance of complaints. Strength is attractive. Resilience is magnetic. People respect the ones who stay capable and prayerful, not the ones who surrender to bitterness.
• Rule 5: Let go of the "Good Old Days.” The years of full pews and vibrant festivals were beautiful—yes. But they are gone, and there is no return ticket. Clinging to who you used to be in the parish steals who you are today. Life today may look different, but it still holds moments worth living.
• Rule 6: Protect your peace like it’s your property. Not every Church debate needs your voice. Not every parish conflict needs your response. Peace is expensive. Protect it from drama, negativity, and draining people—even if they were once close to you in ministry.
• Rule 7: Keep learning something—anything. The day you stop learning is the day you start truly aging. A new language, a new piece of theology, a new hobby—your brain needs movement just like your body does. Learning keeps the spirit young.

Strength and freedom still belong to you. Aging is an exam no one can take for you. You can adapt, rebuild, and rise stronger in your private prayer... or sit back, complain, and wait for someone to rescue you.

And if no one comes to rescue you…
Stand up for yourself.
Because, with God's grace, you still can.
And that single truth is enough to transform the rest of your life.

So, like I asked you to pray for your priests in general, today I ask you to pray for your retired priests in particular.

I love you!

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