Three and Change

I’ve been here for just over three years.

Over these past three years, I’ve written somewhere in the ballpark of 150 blog posts.

Over the past three years, I’ve preached (roughly) 138 sermons.

I was at a (non-church) event the other day and I mentioned that I am the pastor here at TCPC, and the person responded, “Oh, are you the new pastor?” She had seen the welcome banner that was put out for me when I first arrived and remembered it enough to put those two things together. When you think of important markers of time, the number three usually isn’t the first to come to mind. But I’ve been thinking about that number and trying to figure out why I’ve been thinking about three years as a milestone anniversary and I think I’ve finally figured it out.

I don’t know if I can call myself “the new pastor” anymore. I mean, for some folks a pastor is “new” until they break the 40-year mark but I’m not one of those people. There are benefits to being the new pastor, among them the opportunity to bring a new perspective and face to an institution that doesn’t always celebrate change all that well. Nobody has heard hundreds of your sermons already so you can define yourself in the pulpit. You aren’t involved in any ongoing drama, so you can truly enter impartially.

But there are also benefits to being just the regular old pastor. There is a feeling that comes that is akin to familiarity, but is closer to comfortability. I haven’t been here for a long time, but I have been here long enough to get to know the members of this church. I’ve been able to develop relationships, recognize strengths, celebrate victories, and mourn losses.

I no longer feel like an interloper in the community, but rather feel like I’m a true part of it. When I see someone in the hospital I’m no longer a visiting pastor, but rather your pastor visiting. Over the past three years and change, I’ve done some (I humbly say) really awesome things. I’ve done things I’ve been incredibly proud of and have helped support some wonderful ministry. I’ve preached some of my favorite sermons, written some of my favorite pieces, engaged some of the most creative parts of my brain.

Also… over the past three years and change, I’ve made some mistakes. I’ve preached sermons that would sooner forget, written some embarrassing blogs, failed to bring an idea to its full potential. That’s what it means to me that I’m no longer the “new” pastor.

I’ll share my biggest fear now that I’m not feeling so new – complacency. Everything was new when I was new. Now, we’ve done everything already and can just lather, rinse, repeat. I could be comfortable with the things I’m proud of and forget that there’s more that I can do.

I’m asking you to hold me accountable.

I don’t want to get complacent here. You don’t deserve a pastor who is not interested in trying new things. You don’t deserve a pastor who just floats through worship. I’m going to try to keep this at the front of my mind. The benefit of longevity at a church is the realization of community. I feel that I’m here (though there’s always room for deepening relationships). But there are downsides too.

Here’s the thing – I’ve been here for three years and change. I want to be here for many more years, while always changing.

Peace,

Jeff

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At Twelve Corners Presbyterian Church here in Brighton, we’re building a community rooted in welcome, curiosity, and care for one another. If you have questions or are thinking about visiting, we would be glad to hear from you—just reach out through our contact page or call the church office by calling 585-244-8585. Wherever you are on your journey, we’re saving a seat for you.