25 Years

I began my ministry at Redeemer 25 years ago this week.  This seems a notable milestone, accentuated by the “fun fact” that my pastorate at Redeemer spans one tenth of our nation's history.  

In a drawer in the church office, there sits the old parish register, an enormous bound folio in which all official pastoral acts are recorded.  One of these days, I’ll tally the number of weddings, funerals, and baptisms I’ve done these last 25 years.  (Suffice it to say, a bunch.)  Children that I baptized in the early days are well out of college by now, and who knows how many of the marriages I officiated are still together.  (I like to think their survival rate is better than average, but I’m probably kidding myself.)   Some years ago, I began officiating at the weddings of kids I confirmed.  It won’t be long until I’ll be marrying those I baptized.  The next milestone!

When I came to Redeemer in 2001, I was a “rookie,” 36 years old, fresher-of-face and un-bespeckled.  I was a newly-minted pastor, but I had a fair bit of life experience under my belt.   In those early days, I convinced myself that I knew what I was doing in this unique position of “professional religious leader.”  I managed to convince almost everyone else of that as well.   

But now with a couple decades of water under the bridge — and whatever else gets carried downstream — and after so much loss,  so much accumulated emotional debris (my own, and the debris of others that my position gives me the privilege to carry), I am less convinced that I know what I’m doing at all.  Thomas Merton wrote, “We do not want to be beginners, but let us be convinced of the fact that we will never be anything else but beginners all our life.”   This takes some time to properly learn.     

On my desk is a framed card that my mom gave me years ago when I was in my late teens.  She had an intuitive sense of the kind of person I was becoming, the existential journey I seemed to be embarking on.  The card pictured a lone hiker with a backpack, heading off into a misty forest. The caption: “I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m on my way.“ I’m pretty sure she saw that card in the rack and instantly connected it with me. “That’s Tom!” she most surely said.

So here I am, a long way into those misty woods.  Yes, 25 years in…and everyday beginning.