We are all called to be God’s people and we will spend our entire lives trying to figure out just what this means. We do this together, as a community, seeking to discern the path we are each being urged to follow. Often, we can’t see the path until we stop and look back at what God has done in and through us. In my first weekend at the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary we walked a labyrinth together and this idea took shape in my mind. As we journey through the labyrinth, we know where we’ve been because we’ve been there. We know where we are because we look down and see we are on the path—between the lines. But, when we try to look ahead, before we get very far, the parallel lines converge, and the path is obscured. We proceed forward, step-by-step, trusting that the path will lead us through to the goal. Where I’ve been: I’m a life-long Presbyterian and the son of a Presbyterian minister. I studied theatre at James Madison University; served in the Army; worked in the information technology industry for 32 years; and retired from Hewlett Packard in 2011 so I could begin my seminary studies. Along the way I married Alison Fain, an elementary school teacher from Louisville, KY, and together we recently celebrated our 41st  wedding anniversary. We have lived in Martinsburg, WV for 34 years where we raised our two children, Jessica and Dave. We joined the Bunker Hill Presbyterian Church in 1998 where I served on the Session and taught Sunday School and bible studies. Along the way several members of Shenandoah Presbytery came alongside me to help discern God’s claim on my life. I am an ordained Deacon and Ruling Elder, and for the past 15 years, have served as a Commissioned Ruling Elder and now a Minister of the Word and Sacrament. Where I am: I have served congregations in Kearneysville, Piedmont, and Keyser West Virginia. Along the way I have walked with many wonderful people in joyful times and in sorrow, in births, marriages, and deaths, and in sickness and recovery. I am continuing to learn and practice the variety of ways ministry is done, worship and preaching, teaching, pastoral care, transformational ministry, missions, ecumenical relationships and collaboration, and spiritual disciplines.  Where I’m going: With God’s help I will continue in ministry as long as I have the wherewithal to do so. Alison has retired from teaching, the children have grown up, and we are living the next great adventure of our lives together. Beyond this, the lines of our path converge, and I do not know where the journey will take us. I will trust God each step on the way and walk this path as I am led.

The Pastor's Corner 

Shalom, y’all!  

Since this Lenten season we are hearing a sermon series on the Psalms tied to our weekly Lenten bible study, I have missed the opportunity to tell one of my favorite Lenten stories and answer the question I just know is burning your brains: Why do chaplains jump out of airplanes?

Years ago, when I was young and immortal, I went to the Army’s jump school and learned how to jump out of perfectly good airplanes. I noticed, as I shuffled to the door of the aircraft for my turn to jump, that there was a chaplain in line with me. In fact, all the chaplains periodically found themselves in that line.     

So, why should chaplains jump out of airplanes? Now, I thought jumping out of airplanes was a hoot. It was great fun. But for others, it was a fearsome thing. So, if some young soldier, scared to death for life and limb, went to see the chaplain for spiritual support and asked, “Chap, how do you do it? How do you have the courage to jump out that door?” If the chaplain said, “Well, I’ve never actually done it,” what would that soldier think? How can the chaplain possibly help me? Would pious platitudes from someone who has not experienced the training, discipline, and the fear, be of interest to that scared soldier with the dry mouth and cold sweats standing in the door looking out into empty space? And that’s why chaplains jump out of airplanes.  

In Mark 1, Jesus had not said a single word in public. He had not preached two words of a sermon before he experienced temptation and danger to his life and spirit. But perhaps this was because Jesus could not say or preach anything until he went through the wilderness. Jesus had to experience the worst evil in this world before he could declare, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe in the good news.”  

And that’s why Jesus went into the wilderness. Jesus could not say that the kingdom of God was near until he had faced the unknown, until he had engaged the evil of this world head-on in the wilderness. Because then, when he spoke kingdom words of hope and promise, everyone would know that these were not unrealistic, pious platitudes. He had engaged the jagged edges of real life in a fallen world and returned victorious. “He was tempted as we are yet without sin.” Jesus went to the wilderness and survived. We can survive as well.

Shalom,

Pastor Tom