There is something magnificent about concluding a work of this magnitude. I did not know what began in January of 2016 would change me so much. While the local community and friends will congratulate your accomplishment–for which I am unimaginably grateful– by tomorrow everyone necessarily moves on. However, the weight of it stays: the memories of Saturdays and holidays spent reading and researching, missed birthdays due to intensive courses out of town, the constant barrage of old books and new books coming in calling for your attention, writing, editing, re-editing 1000x, the statistical sadness of how many start but never complete such work, and the general angst of someone like myself who is often plagued by a worrying mind over the minuscule and the major.
There is that moment when the oral examiners throw you off to talk behind your back–you know you did well, but there is always that peculiar sensation that you may have talked too much, elaborated too long on a trivial point, or said something erroneous. Ten minutes of waiting feels like an eternity in such a moment. When they returned, their first words were formal: “It is with great honor to confirm that you have successfully defended your thesis.” And then to hear my advisor–whom I deeply admire– refer to me as “Dr. Brito” was not so much an imposition of a new title, but a confirmation that I am loved by a God who took an uninterested student in his teens and changed my demeanor and disposition to desire formal training to serve the Church.
Far beyond a title, this is sheer grace. Far beyond a title of honor, this is the fruit of a community that has walked with me along the way and who believed that my studies would be more than another diploma hanging somewhere tempting my little children from shooting it down with their games and weaponry, but the result of a body of believers who endured their pastor gone at various times for five straight years, and most importantly, the encouragement of a wife who never once questioned my ability to complete it, though I did more than thrice. I wrote in my acknowledgments that when I finished this project, Melinda Brito finished it right next to me. She was the Rose of Sharon that kept blessing me as a friend and lover each step of the way. You are better than wine! Only heaven knows what you mean to me.
My children, whose birthdays I missed on innumerable occasions due to my absence for research and course work, deserve so much credit for loving me and calling me “Dr. Daddy” when this thing was still a long way off. They encouraged me and set me free to work without guilt. I have a multitude of days to make up.
The congregation of Providence Church (CREC) in Pensacola,FL has walked with me since January 2016 and has been my inspiration through it all. My entire project is in honor of their patience and their unfailing love. They have seen my faults and still manage to address me proudly as their pastor. It’s my 13th year serving this flock, but every Sunday, the same butterflies are there as a first date. I am still thrilled and honored to minister in Word and Sacrament. In fact, my thesis on pastoral rituals of friendship, learning, and leisure was and is practiced sometimes weakly and sometimes strongly in their midst. They saw me as a 29-year-old kid coming in full of zeal, but full of blind-spots also, and accepted me as their own; and now as my beard grays in their presence, they still remain kind and loving.
My final gratitude to all my friends who followed my updates on the newsletter and kept pushing me to better things. And for this fun group of facebookers who daily encourage me in my writings: muchas gracias.
When Calvin spoke of ordained ministers who were invested with a doctoral degree, he spoke of those who had greater responsibility to serve the Church with their knowledge. He later wrote that “The pastor ought to have two voices: one, for gathering the sheep; and another, for warding off and driving away wolves and thieves. The Scripture supplies him with the means of doing both.” May I use my voice wisely–with humility and discernment.
“I offer my heart to thee, O Lord, promptly and sincerely.”
