Remembering Tim Keller

Tim was widely appreciated for his extraordinary gifts. He was also a good, honest, humble man.

I first met Tim Keller in 2006. I believed then as I still believe now that he was the best English-speaking Christian preacher, thinker, and visionary of our time.

I am not alone in this sentiment. And yet, having also gotten to serve “up close” for several years under and alongside his leadership, there are other things about Tim that endeared him to me even more than these things. Having read and heard many tributes to Tim since his passing one year ago today, I wanted to share a few thoughts of my own.

First, Tim inspired me with his reluctance to participate in or even flirt with the trappings of fame and celebrity. He did not chase the spotlight or try to make a name for himself. The counsel of Jeremiah to his secretary—“Do you seek great things for yourself? Seek them not” (Jeremiah 45:5)—was also a life philosophy for Tim. Shy about himself and boastful about Jesus, his ambition was to advance Jesus' kingdom spiritually, socially, and culturally—whether through Redeemer or (notably) through promoting and supporting other nearby and far-away churches and leaders.

Second, Tim waited until he was almost sixty to publish Reason for God, his first of many popular trade books. He explained that he wanted to wait until he was old and wise enough to write the best possible material he could on this and any other subject. After that, his book writing pace more than made up for lost time.

Third, Tim was always quick to support, pray for, elevate, and applaud other pastors. Instead of trying to position Redeemer as New York City's premiere megachurch and swallow up “the competition” with superior offerings, Tim repudiated the competitive mindset. Instead, he consistently leveraged time, resources, and energy to build a church planter training organization through which to bring more church planters, and with them more churches, into the five NYC boroughs. He was thrilled to see other NYC churches thrive, even if it meant that Redeemer's “slice of the pie” might become smaller (for Redeemer, “smaller” was 5,000+ weekly attendees).

Despite Redeemer’s size, Tim never had a market share mentality about Christians in the city, and he never targeted members of other churches, either overtly or covertly, to lure them to his own church. Instead, he focused on reaching the not-yet-reached, paying special attention to religious skeptics and seekers. If someone left Redeemer for another church, rather than getting snippy or insecure about it, Tim would say things like, “Well. This is a good thing, isn’t it? This will help make ____________ Church stronger. That's what we want...for all the churches in New York to be stronger. What a privilege that Redeemer gets to be a sending church. That includes sending some of our best members to other NYC churches so that they, too, can flourish.”

Fourth, although Redeemer grew and grew under his gifted leadership, Tim never embraced the expansion mindset of “bigger and bigger.” He emphasized quality of ministry over quantity of seats filled. Ironically, it was nearly impossible to find a seat at a Redeemer service. Early on, his vision was to plant and lead a small to mid-sized church in a single neighborhood of Manhattan, with maybe 300 or so people as their community.

Tim did not aspired for Redeemer to become a megachurch. Instead, he preferred to be one among many quiet but meaningful contributors to a broader movement of churches and denominations that would, together, serve the city. As Tim approached retirement, he envisioned Redeemer emerging into a network of well-contextualized, mid-size, gospel-centered, neighbor-oriented, reproducing churches that would serve NYC's many unique neighborhoods. Tim finished pastoral ministry with the same mindset he started with—not ambitious for Redeemer to be a great church, but for NYC to be a “great city” that resembles Augustine’s (and Scripture’s) vision for the City of God—one in which Christians had such a profound and life-giving impact on the people and places where they lived, worked, and played, that if Christians were to disappear from the city, the entire city would weep.

Fifth, as Tim’s public influence grew, so did his private commitment to the hidden, ordinary graces like daily Scripture reading and prayer. His long-time rhythm was to pray through Psalms every month and read through the entire Bible every year. He also maintained, well into his 70’s, a voracious and childlike posture of learning that had him reading 80 or more books per year. “If you count skimming,” Tim would say, “the number of books per year (was) more like 150.”

His voracious appetite for Scripture, knowing Christ, and learning from voices besides his own—including Christian as well as common grace enriched non-Christian thinkers—gave evidence to a profound humility. The prayer I have often prayed for myself—“Lord, give me character that is greater than my gifts, and humility that is greater than my influence”—was inspired chiefly by what Tim demonstrated up close and outside of the public eye.

Sixth, Tim and Kathy had a very strong marriage. They lived their lives together—face to face in friendship and adjacent in mission. Rumor has it that they spoke Tolkien's elvish language to each other in the privacy of their home. Tim described his favorite “date night” with Kathy as staying home to discuss books they had read together. Kathy was (and is) a rare intellectual match for Tim. Rumor has it that they graduated #1 and #2 from their class at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary, with Tim finishing at #2 by a slight margin. This may explain why their three sons are so bright. It may also explain how Tim could write a book faster than most of us can read one.

Seventh, Tim set a meaningful example of covering other people’s shortcomings with the grace, mercy, and forgiveness of Christ. His default was to assume the best in people, not the worst, and the way he spoke about people followed suit. Occasionally, he would talk about how being loved and forgiven by Jesus frees us to “catch people doing good” versus taking easy offense. In a society like ours that can be prone to judge and punish people for weakness and failure, Tim was refreshingly counter-cultural. There was no evidence of even a shred of smugness or outrage in him.

If someone treated Tim poorly or disrespectfully, he would respond with humble restraint and self-reflection instead of venting outrage. Like the grace of God does, Tim covered people’s sins with patience and kindness—including my own on more than one occasion. In doing so, he became a living portrait of how, in Jesus, we are shielded and safeguarded from the worst things about ourselves. Because Jesus shields us like this, we can likewise restore reputations versus assassinating reputations, protect a good name versus tarnishing a good name, shut down gossip versus feeding and consuming gossip, and restore broken relationships versus begrudging broken people.

Finally, Tim would receive criticism, most of which was unfair, in a way that resembled Christ on the cross when he prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do.” By his words and example, Tim showed that getting defensive or retaliatory in response to criticism rarely, if ever, bears the fruit of redemptive outcomes. He also, quite remarkably, showed a level of humility that was willing to learn even from his most ill-intended critics, even those who intended him harm.

In Tim's own words regarding the pain of being unfairly accused and attacked:

First, you should look to see if there is a kernel of truth in even the most exaggerated and unfair broadsides…So even if the censure is partly or even largely mistaken, look for what you may indeed have done wrong. Perhaps you simply acted or spoke in a way that was not circumspect. Maybe the critic is partly right for the wrong reasons. Nevertheless, identify your own shortcomings, repent in your own heart before the Lord for what you can, and let that humble you. It will then be possible to learn from the criticism and stay gracious to the critic even if you have to disagree with what he or she has said.

If the criticism comes from someone who doesn’t know you at all [and often this is the case on the internet] it is possible that the criticism is completely unwarranted and profoundly mistaken. I am often pilloried not only for views I do have, but also even more often for views [and motives] that I do not hold at all. When that happens it is even easier to fall into a smugness and perhaps be tempted to laugh at how mistaken your critics are. “Pathetic…” you may be tempted to say. Don’t do it. Even if there is not the slightest kernel of truth in what the critic says, you should not mock them in your thoughts. First, remind yourself of examples of your own mistakes, foolishness, and cluelessness in the past, times in which you really got something wrong. Second, pray for the critic, that he or she grows in grace.

In 2007, our family moved to New York City thinking we were going to serve alongside one of the greatest preachers and thought leaders of our time. Indeed, we did get to do that, and were changed because of it. But more than this, Tim gave us all what McCheyne said is the most important thing a minister can give to his people:

His own holiness.

Tim's life painted noble portraits of integrity that exceeded imperfections, character that exceeded giftedness, prayerfulness that exceeded pragmatism, other-centeredness that exceeded ambition, generosity that exceeded comfort, and humility that exceeded (even a global) impact.

As Tim contended with a fatal cancer diagnosis in his latter days, he declared openly that it was the happiest season of his life—not because the circumstances were in his favor, but because the grace and eternal promises of God were. His concern in those last days was not to secure a legacy, but to be fully present with his family, encourage as many people as he could, and teach and write so as to “leave messages in a bottle for the future church.”

Isn’t that a lovely sentiment?

In becoming less, Tim became more. As the man himself said many times in his sermons, “The less we presume to act like kings, the more like kings we shall be.”

When I see Tim again in glory, I imagine thanking him for helping me want to be a better pastor, communicator, leader. But more than this, I will thank him for helping me want to be a better human by being more aware of my status as an adopted son of God through Jesus.

Tim. You fought the fight, you finished the race, and you kept the faith. We do and will miss you, sir—but only for a short while.