The May/June issue of Wooden Boat Magazine has arrived at our home. One of the strange things about traditional magazines is that they always have the jump on the calendar. In order for magazines to be distributed and on news stands during the month that they are dated, they are printed well in advance of that month. So we get the May/June issue in April. On the cover of the magazine is an absolutely gorgeous photograph of a legendary ocean racing yacht WINDWARD PASSAGE. The 73’ long boat was built entirely of spruce on a beach in the Bahamas. The photograph on the magazine cover was taken during the 1975 Sidney - Hobart ocean race. 1975 was before photo drones, so it probably was taken from a helicopter, most likely with a hand-held camera without the benefit of mechanical stabilization. The combination of the craft of the hand-made wooden boat and the craft of the enterprising and innovative photographer.

The photo struck me for several reasons and I was intrigued enough to read about it in two different articles that appear in the magazine. The date of the photograph captured my interest in part because it was during the 1975-76 school year that I obtained my first single lens reflex camera. It was a used camera, purchased from a classmate who was upgrading to a fancier camera. One of the motivating reasons for the purchase was a class I had the opportunity to take with LIFE and LOOK photographer Archie Lieberman.

The particular slice of time from 1975 to 2001 corresponds with the span of my career as a minister. In 1975, I began the second of four years as a seminary student. I was engaged full time in the serious study of bible and theology and taking a few classes on the side, like the photography class, that expanded my interests. I went straight from seminary upon graduation in 1978, into the life of a local church pastor, a role in which I served until my retirement in the summer of 2020. So the 46 years from 1975 to 2021 pretty much sums up my career. It is a big enough span of time that I’m not likely to get another block of time equal in length. I was not yet born in 1929 - 46 years before 1975. I am not likely to be living in 2067 - 46 years from now.

The choice of a 46-year-old photograph for the cover of a magazine might seem strange, but not so to fans of Wooden Boat. The magazine routinely features articles on the restoration and maintenance of classic boats and historic photographs of boats is part of telling their stories. Looking a history is an interesting process. It is unlikely that any of the people who are currently working on the maintenance and sailing of WINDWARD PASSAGE were born when the ship was constructed. They are investing their time keeping alive a boat that is older than they. While some of their contemporaries are investing time and energy in making new items and creating new objects, they are investing in preserving history.

Not only would a similar photograph made today have been taken from a drone, a drone flew in the very thin atmosphere of Mars this week. The instructions for the flight were programmed by an earth-bound engineering team who are in the process of collecting digital photographs that will still seem remarkable decades from now.

One of the dynamics of the particular 46-year slice of time is that it has had particular technologies that mark its place in history. There were no churches using computers in any meaningful way in 1975. In 2021, pastors need significant computer expertise to manage zoom meetings and remote worship experiences. I thought that a single lens reflex camera that recorded images on film was advanced technology in 1975. It happens that I still have that camera, but it hasn’t been used in decades. My digital cameras are the instruments of choice and most of the photographs I make these days are done with my cell phone. The quality of first-rate optics is being replaced by digital enhancement of photographs and layering technologies that allow a relatively inexpensive lens to record images in a wide range of focal lengths.

Like every human being, I have a particular place in history. My story has taken place against the backdrop of a particular set of world events. The war in Vietnam had just ended when I was ordained. The war in Afghanistan had not yet ended when I retired. Between them wars in the Balkans, in Africa, and the Middle East played out with waves of human suffering and death. These stories shaped the ministry in which I was engaged and the ways in which we interpreted scripture to the people in our congregations.

Unlike the photograph on the cover of the magazine, I suspect most of the sermons of my career haven’t weathered well. They wouldn’t seem relevant if preached today. Times change. People change. Technology changes. Our perspective on faith changes as well. It is a good time for new leadership to emerge.

The congregation in which we participate has just hired a seminary student to serve as a part time chaplain to provide pastoral care to members during the pandemic. The position reminds me of my seminary internships. Thinking of the span of my career, I wonder what the story of the career of this new pastor might be. I’m pretty sure that there are all kinds of changes that we can’t imagine that will mark her career. Her ministry will take place against the backdrop of a very different period of time than mine. It would be fun to see where her career takes her and how ministry will be pursued during her time as a pastor. It is very possible that ministry will be a smaller slice of her life than it was of mine. The majority of those entering careers these days are expected to change careers multiple times during their professional lives. Perhaps she will be an exception and serve as a pastor for decades.

Looking at an old photograph gave me an opportunity to think about the future in a new way. The magazine cover was a gift. The ideas it inspired were far different than those in the mind of the photographer who took it. Art can do that for us all.