I hail from Imperial Polk County, Florida, where it’s said we grow more oranges than the entire state of California. I don’t think that’s true but it makes for good advertising. I’m not from anything like an urban background. But in 1992 I fell in love with the city. New York City to be precise. The Gotham of my childhood. (Batman and Robin anyone?)
I was in my second year of being a campus minister at the University of Tennessee. While I loved it, I knew I wasn’t cut out to minister to 18-21-year-olds for the rest of my life. I’m restless in general, and in year two I was already becoming bored. I would be diagnosed with ADHD about 15 years later but for now, I was living with my restless urges the best I could.
One of my fellow campus ministers mentioned he was taking his students to New York City during Spring Break. This idea scared me to death. This small-town boy believed every caricature of NYC. He told me his former seminary professor had started a church there and it was exploding in growth. Its name: Redeemer Presbyterian Church. He showed me an article about the church, and I immediately noticed the significant role of the church planter's wife in their ministry. Moreover, I learned the church had "deaconesses" which was surprising given the PCA is one of the most restrictive denominations when it comes to women in ordained positions, an issue that was already becoming a gear grind for me. I had to see this for myself.
During spring break of 1992, I embarked on a trip with a van full of college students. Our journey involved driving north and parking the van in New Jersey for the week, before taking the Weehawken Ferry across the Hudson River and using public transportation to get to our lodging facilities in Queens. As we approached Manhattan, I could see the outline of the city's towering skyscrapers, including the World Trade Center and the iconic Empire State Building. While the students were visibly excited, I remained focused on the road ahead.
Meet the brave humans who helped me drag students all over New York City. My RUF interns: Paul Vucish, Lyn Collier, and Jen Storck. Some of the very best humans on the planet. This pic is from the 25th anniversary of RUF at UT-Knoxville, in October 2015.
As we boarded the Weehawken Ferry to cross the Hudson, something remarkable happened. Standing up to get a clear view of the Manhattan skyline, I was struck with a realization that this was where I was meant to be. The city had everything I cherished about college campuses - diversity, curiosity, open-mindedness, contrarianism, innovation, new ideas, and creativity - but with people beyond the age range of 18-21. This counts as one of my 5 or 6 ‘peak experiences’ in life. Overcome with emotion, I sat back down on the ferry and wept, with the possibility that some of my students might have seen me cry.
The view from the Weehawken Ferry isn’t too shabby.
As we stepped onto the streets of Manhattan’s West Side in the early 90s, it was equal parts fear and amazement for me. With each step I took I found myself praying to God, mostly prayers of thankfulness for such clarity. I knew then and there, some city, somewhere, would be a place of ministry for me. Later that evening I would stay up until 2 am in the apartment of someone who had recently come to faith in the church. He had been in Manhattan for most of his adult life and had seen it all. He looked at me just before we turned in for the night and said “I don’t know what you want to do in your future, but you should be in a city.” I took that as confirmation. I remember calling Terely that evening to tell her how I was feeling about a call to the city. Her words were interesting: “you pray about that.” And we would for the next 4 years.
Experiencing Redeemer Presbyterian Church during those early days was an absolute privilege. There was an unmistakable excitement in the air, and a strong sense of confidence the gospel being preached had the power to transform anyone, any institution, any city. It was incredible to see so many ‘secular New Yorkers’ coming to faith in large numbers, including those who identified as LGBTQ+. I'll delve into that more later, but as a Southern boy (and for Southern PCA churches watching from a distance), it was awe-inspiring to witness people from such diverse backgrounds embracing faith in Jesus. It felt as though lightning had been caught in a bottle.
I felt like I had found the coolest kids in school. In my fragile relationship with the PCA so far, this was the first glimmer of hope I could pastor a church and be happy doing it. Context meant everything to me and I knew by the end of the week my urban call was developing to anything God may have for me in any urban context, New York City or not. But it would look like Redeemer. I would begin taking other RUF groups up to New York City so I could spend more time with the church and staff. It was then I got to know Tim Keller for the first time. I was in awe.
When I returned from that first trip to NYC, I would craft our philosophy of ministry on the campus to look more like Redeemer. As I followed Tim's advice to "preach to the empty seats," our RUF ministry began transforming. As our students started to think “This is what I’d like my searching friend to hear about Jesus” they brought those searching friends, and our ministry began to attract a more diverse group of students. This new "bringer mentality" meant that every Tuesday night was an opportunity to invite someone new without fear of embarrassment or insult. Before long, our ministry was filled with hundreds of students, and we worshiped in the Ball Room in the middle of campus. Clearly, the Holy Spirit was at work among us. It felt like we had caught the ‘Redeemer magic’, which was fine by me.
In our 5th year in Knoxville, Tim Keller recruited me to plant a church on Long Island. Another PCA leader wanted us to plant a church in Concord, MA. Both of these are close to cities, but not actually urban contexts. We decided to wait and signed up for another year in Knoxville. In the spring of ‘95, the phone rang. It was Lewis Ruff, who served as a recruiter for the PCA to start churches in the West. He told me “I assumed Keller had snatched you up. I heard you turned him down. I’m calling to tell you I think you would be perfect for San Francisco. What do you think?”
My dear friend Scot Sherman, when I told him I was looking to plant a church in San Francisco, told me “you may want to put on a diaper when you get a glimpse of that city for the first time because you are going to pee in your pants it’s so beautiful”.
I am an enneagram One. If that means nothing to you please indulge me. Part of what it means to be me is I tend to listen to my gut. This means I process out loud, I try things on to figure out how it feels, and I might make a move that others will not understand at first because I haven’t reasoned it all out, I just know in my gut what I have to do. I would guess this has been the number one frustration of those I’ve worked with over the years. Knowing something internally but not knowing how to explain it externally can be torturous both for the leader and those being led. It seems to me that being misunderstood is one of the constant burdens of the Enneagram One.1 This may explain why a scared country boy from Polk County, Florida reasoned that the best thing he could do is be a church planter in San Francisco and take his family with him to do it.
The news of moving to San Francisco wasn’t always received well. My boss in campus ministry told me “send the Hugenots to the Hugenots” which was his way of saying someone like me had no business ministering to someone like them. My mother said, “when all the people in the state of Florida are Christians you can move to California and plant a church.” My mother-in-law was pretty well devastated to see her grandchildren move so far away. I learned a lesson then that would serve me well later…sometimes people are upset with you simply because they are sad to see you go. Our families were being asked to be excited about something that would make them sad.
The Rock on the UT Campus was painted by students…saying farewell and welcoming my replacement, John Stone.
My father was the only person who was genuinely thrilled about my decision to move to San Francisco and start a church. Not to delve too deeply into my family system, but his eldest son was coronated early in life to take over the family business. My gut (there it is again) told me from a young age that I’d probably need to forge my own path in life, distinct from the family enterprise. I think Dad as an entrepreneur genuinely loved the crazy idea of moving west and planting a church with no contacts. I think Dad as the product of his own family system (one he never explored) needed me to choose another path. Our motives are always mixed, but I’ll always remember he was enthusiastic about the wild idea of starting a church in what he called “San Fran”.2
(Warning: never use the phrase “San Fran” when you are in “San Fran”)
You may be wondering, what about Terely? How did she feel about all of this?
After speaking with Lewis that day on the phone, I went downstairs. Terely was standing in the kitchen with a couple of kids draped to her legs begging for something or other. I told her what Lewis had said. She looked at me and said, “That’s it you know.” Terely also thinks with her gut. A year and a half later, on August 5, 1996, our family of five arrived in San Francisco via a one-way flight to begin our adventure in the Golden State.
This is the original “put our picture on your fridge and pray for us” card we sent out in the Spring of ‘96.
I’m no Enneagram expert so maybe this is just a Fred problem :) For more on the enneagram: https://cac.org/daily-meditations/the-enneagram-an-introduction/
I remember my therapist asking me, in one of our earliest sessions “Why did you move to San Francisco all the way from Tennessee?” I told him “God called me to do it.” He smiled and said, “Ok, but there might be more to it than that. I guess there are a few other cities farther away from Florida you could have chosen, but not many.”
Thanks Fred. I’ve never followed Tim Keller. Always figured he was just another evangelical pushing orthodoxy. Add to that the fact that the folks I knew who were big fans of his were people I wanted little or nothing to do with. But then I started reading some of his shorter articles and saw him differently--a bit anyway. So thanks for this. I had the same experience of boredom working with college students. Loved it. Loved them, but knew at the age of 50+ that I couldn’t do it for too long.
We are both are happy to discover FredTalk! My 1st impression-- where do I buy your memoir 😉 ... and Rhys' comment- he loved your therapist's observation.
And at the risk of repeating my text to you-- what lodged deeply in my heart: that image of your gazing upon NYC deep in your intuitive knowing on that ferry ride (and maybe a college kid or two saw their pastor weep that night...).
Hugs and love to you and Terely. We're over the moon to know not just pastors but we laypeople get to still hear your thoughts.