I moved a few years ago to a community known for its youth. People are in the front half of their lives. They are into fitness and looking good. Even the seniors who live here seem youthful.

Last Thursday, for the first time in a few years, I spoke to a group of seniors. The hymns seemed slower. Some of the seniors had a hard time hearing. The lady beside me had a hard time finding her way through the songbook. At lunch, the conversations were a little harder.

I watched the organizer. She led with such passion that it was clear what she thought of the seniors. I also looked across the table at the pastor as he leaned in to hear a senior speak. At that moment, the senior beside him had his complete attention.

I love the vibrancy and youth of a community like Liberty Village. I enjoy trying to keep up with people who are younger than me, fitter than me, and cooler than me.

But I loved spending an afternoon with seniors. I need younger people, but I also need those who are older than me. I need to learn from them, serve them, and most of all love them. For the first time, I’m pastoring a church without seniors, and I’m pretty sure we’re missing out.