Tom Petty

“But, how did you get here?” 

This was the question the sweet twenty something kept asking my friend Lance and I at the bar at 1:00 am in Baltimore. He just couldn’t wrap his head around how two pastors, one from Alaska and one from Pennsylvania, could be in his neighborhood bar heckling the singer for Tom Petty songs.

We told him how I flew in and Lance drove down to have some time to catch up.

"But, how did you get here?" 

"Well, the place we ate dinner was closing at midnight and we weren’t done painting the town puce so we walked two doors down because we were promised live music and the musician promised Tom Petty songs, which never happened."

"But, how did you get here?"

He really wasn’t letting it go. Finally Lance made up a ridiculous story that made us giggle for a long time.

But, “here” was an unpredictable place to be.

We met as young pastors fourteen years ago as part of a Lilly Endowment gig to retain pastors and we’ve walked with each other through secrets, sorrows, and silliness I rarely get to explore. 

How did you get here? I’m not going to whine about being a pastor, but there are times that I carry responsibilities and secrets that get heavy. There are times I forget to delight and laugh so hard that my stomach hurts the next day.  I get wrapped in the drama of  the world and forget to be here.

And here is a good place to be. Tending friendships, confessing struggles, playing with theology, and laughing are good places to be. When I fret about the world, I admit that I can’t fix it all, but I can rebel against the increasing division and isolation by digging deeply into meaningful relationships.

So if you are ever at 1919 in Baltimore and a sweet twenty something shows up at 1 in the morning with friend chicken and potato wedges and asks you how you got there, just tell him that Lance and Tari sent you.