Being an older vicar makes me better at my job

The Church of England is dropping the age limit for trainee clergy – bringing benefits for everyone

Ibecame a vicar when I was 54, ordained in the diocese of Exeter with 17 others, most of whom were also over 50. Many had retired from other professional roles: we had an NHS manager, a teacher, a solicitor, a GP and a midwife among our ranks. Each one brought the experience and insight of their secular work into their priestly ministry.

Now there are set to be many more like us, and people even older, as the Church of England is dropping its upper age limit for those wishing to train for the clergy, in a bid to boost numbers by encouraging second careers. As the Right Rev Tim Dakin, Bishop of Winchester put it, “60 is the new 40”.

Being a priest was never part of my career plan. I taught before my children were born, worked for a charity as a staff writer and drifted into freelance journalism once they were at school. The persistent nudge to do “something more” came much later.

I found myself at theological college at the age of 52, dazed and confused, with a pile of books I didn’t even understand the titles of, let alone the contents. But I was determined to prove my bishop right in believing that I had what it took to study for a Masters in theology, and then prepare for ministry in the Church of England.

I loved the study, and the theological reflection, and I threw myself into life in a vibrant student community. I was the senior student by far, so being “mum” occasionally was inevitable: I advised young women of my daughter’s age to “put a coat on”, and mopped tears, even as I wrestled with hermeneutics and filled the recycling bin with wine bottles with the rest of them. I had wondered what I could bring to debate between a class of bright, energetic 20- and 30-somethings. But I soon realised I could bring my life: its experience, its doubts, its failings, and the – unrecognised by me – wisdom of a life lived longer than those I studied with.

There are those who might question the wisdom of encouraging older people to train for the priesthood; who might argue it is a job for the young and energetic, those who may be able to encourage a similarly young congregation into our emptying pews. But although I may not always have the energy of someone 20 years younger, I have learnt that what I brought to my studies, I can also bring to ministry: the ability to stand back and reflect, to know what to hang on to and what to let go of, to judge a lot less and love a lot more. At the end of the initial week of my curacy, I realised that in my new role I had used an experiential part of every job I had ever done, together with my own personal experience of grief and loss, in a way that I would never have been able to do at 30.

I am not alone. The Church of England is largely held together, especially in rural areas, by priests over the age of 50, many of them working unpaid as self-supporting clergy. Most of them, unlike me, train locally and although the majority of older students don’t study at Masters level, there is a fairly rigorous academic element to training, one that older ordinands usually surprise themselves by tackling well. Many of us relish the opportunity to study for the first time in 30 years or more and see it as a privilege.

What we bring to our priestly roles with age cannot be quantified. There are no measures for life experience, character wrought of suffering, or the lessons learned from knocks and bruises. Perhaps we have more time and patience to sit with those who need our company, journey with those who have lost direction, weep with those who weep, and laugh with those who laugh. Much of our work surrounds the pastoral offices: baptisms, marriages and funerals. And it’s in those places that our life experience makes the difference. Not just because we’ve “been there, done that”, but because we have a little bit more understanding of what makes people tick, and a longer retrospective on life.

For me, this way of life at this time of life has been, and remains, a joy. There is nothing quite like making God possible for people. Being a priest is often demanding and stressful, but it’s more about who we are than what we do. In that it is perhaps unique. Essentially, we give of ourselves in the service of God and people. And giving of ourselves has no age limit.