Quite a week, and it's not even Sunday yet

Well I think this is going to be fun.  The pastor has been visiting folks, meeting people from both churches, visiting the sick, and bringing home produce from the country.  So far, so good.  People seem glad to meet her, and apart from an anonymous complaint about her being too pretty and wearing a skirt that was too short (really, it was below the knee), everyone seems happy to have her around.  I suppose they'll have to adjust to her hotness.

One of the churches is down to a handful of members, but it's my impression that it's never been all that large, at least not the last few decades.  I saw a pictoral directory from about 5 years ago that features both churches, and the smaller church's section was a single page of pictures.  However, they are located about 5 minutes from a thriving, artsy town.  There are clearly enough people nearby that growth and ministry could happen there.  It's exciting to think about the possibilities.  It seems that they've never put much effort into inviting others in, and as they continue to shrink, they're finally thinking about their own corporate mortality.  At least that's my very early impression, never having set foot in the place, so take it with a grain of salt.

Her first appointment was in a small town church, one with a secretary and a preschool.  It's in town, not out in the country.  It's a rural setting, but these two little churches are what come to my mind when I hear the term "rural church."  The scenery is green and lush, and you have to go far enough away from "civilization" to get there that you might wonder if you've missed a turn somewhere.  It's beautiful and quiet.

Can't wait for Sunday.

Resurrection

New things are happening for the pastor, so I may start blogging again.  After 2 years working part time at our suburban church, she will be serving a 2 point charge in a neighboring county.  We will not be relocating, however, which will be great for the family (though I'm sure there will be some parishioners who don't like that :*)  I'm excited for her and for our family - it's been a good break, not without drama, but certainly good for our kids.  It's time to jump back into the parish, though, and continue on the path towards ordination in the UMC.

In case you're not aware, "2 point charge" means that there are 2 churches who combine their resources to pay for a pastor.  She will preach twice each week, once at each church, e.g, 9am at one and 11am at the other.  These are two country churches that have been in a bit of a decline.  We've been told that one averages about 40 or 50 in worship every week, while the other one is down to about 12 active members.  Should be interesting and fun.

So if anyone reads this - google reports some very light traffic here, but I don't know if it's real people or bots - and you are one who prays for such things, please keep our family in your prayers.

burnout and healing

A lot has happened since I last updated the blog, and I'm not sure where to start. So I'll just start spewing stuff and then I might edit it, but I doubt it - I generally don't have a whole lot of time for tweaking and polishing my writing here.

We have moved from our rural setting back to the suburbs. In fact, we are back to the same suburbs from whence we came. Moving was our idea, not the church's, though the bishop and others did make it happen. We are back in familiar territory and are loving most of it. Our children are adjusting fairly well to the move, though our 8 year old seems to be a little stressed out by all the changes. Our younger two children (5th and 3rd grade) have started at the year-round elementary school that we can walk to - in fact, we can see it from the driveway of our new home. Our oldest(8th grade) will go to a traditional calandar middle school in August, provided that we get around to registering him. I am able to drive into the office instead of working remotely from libraries and coffee shops, which has been wonderful - I never thought I'd say that about going to an office building. And the pastor is adjusting too, though she has given up much career-wise for her family.

So how did all this happen? Well, there's a lot behind it all, but I will focus mainly on our family situation and not the politics of congregation/denomination. To be brief, I think we were burning out in my wife's previous appointment. When we sold our house, picked up our family and moved out to a small town, we had many choices to make. Do we live in the parsonage or buy our own home? Do we put the kids in the struggling public schools or to drive them a long way to a very good private school? We made decisions the best we could, with the overriding goal of being faithful to our calling as a pastor's family. If we had to do it over again, I am still not sure if we would do anything differently. If our main goal was to maximize our financial situation, we certainly would have made different choices(like not going into ministry at all). We assumed we would be in that place for several years, like at least 5 years. But it was not to be. I must say that life was a grind for the two years we were there. Between shuttling the children to and from school and the other demands on both the pastor and me, we hardly had time to rest. My weekends were practically non-existent, since Sunday is a work day for her and it turned into one for me as well. For a small church, there was a LOT of activity. I would guess that my wife worked about 80 hours in a typical week there. Since I have a full time job too, that meant that much of the household duties slipped through the cracks. We gave up cleaning the house. Our top priorities became making sure we had food (most of it unhealthy convenience food) and clean laundry. There was no time for exercise or for rest. And while no one said it explicitly, that type of life seemed to be the expectation from many folks at the church. One parishioner even said (to someone else) that a pastor should "die to self and live for the church." Well, ok - I'm all for dying to self - but living for Christ. And that type of living does not mean being burnt out trying to satisfy every whim of every member of the church.

So here we are, back "at home," living much the same way we did before "going out." A couple things surprised me about the whole process. One is that I found myself very sad at first when we got news that we'd be leaving. A large part of that I think is just sadness about leaving people that I had come to care about. There are some wonderful people there, and I was sad to think of not seeing them anymore. But a significant part of that may have also been a feeling of failure - that things did not work out. This leads to some introspection and analysis, some of which is fruitful, but some of it becomes "if only" thinking. If only we had done this or that differently, maybe things would have been better. I think if I do that too much, it quickly becomes wallowing and doesn't serve any good purpose. Now that I have a couple months of space to reflect on it, I think that place was just not a good fit for us. I hope and pray for the success of that church and their new pastor - in many ways, I think he's probably a better fit for them.

So now what? Well, the pastor is now in a part-time position at our old church where we were members when she was called to seminary. It is a place we know well, with people we know well, but with a different senior pastor and slightly different staff than before. There are over 3000 members at this church, so much is different. And yet, much is the same, because as I've said in other posts, every church has some level of dysfunction, and struggles of power and control are everywhere. I am concerned for my wife as she takes a big career hit to be an under-the-radar part-time pastor instead of THE pastor. It's hard on her ego and hard on our bank account, but I think overall better for our family. There will be new adventures for us, I'm sure. One great benefit is working alongside other pastors. Her staff before consisted of one part-time secretary. She's a sweet lady, but it's not the same as having peers who understand more fully what you're dealing with.

I am usually very careful about crediting God for the changes that occur in my life. It's not that I don't think God is working on our behalf. I suppose I think more of God walking beside us on the journey, regardless of who or what "causes" the different twists and turns of our path. But in this case, where we have arrived at a place that should be more healthy for our family, I can see God working through the system to bring us home. And while I do still miss some folks at our old place, I am thankful to be here.

The middle

I have been trying to make the time to post over the last few weeks. We had some ice and snow and were all snowed in for a few days, but since I work from home, it still seemed somewhat hectic and I never got around to blogging.

So here goes probably my third attempt of 2011. We'll see if I get around to posting it.

I am a fan of The Pretenders, Chrissie Hynde's band which put out three really solid albums in the 80's. And since I am also a fan on facebook, I occasionally see things that the Pretenders' fan page puts up. This weekend, they posted a link to their great song, "Show me," and memories of listening to them when I was in high school came flooding back. It prompted me to look up a bunch of their videos on YouTube. Wow, they were amazing live. One of their songs, from "Learning to Crawl" (which I probably wore out on the turntable) spoke to me - "Middle of the Road". Here are the lyrics:

http://www.pretenders.org/lymor1.htm

I think it's brilliant. So many ways I feel like I'm in the middle. I'm in my 40's with kids - sorta the midpoint of life, and I can identify with having "my plans behind me," even if I'm not a big planner. I try to take a "middle road" in so many things - I don't want to be an extremist, I want to treat people of all stripes with grace and mercy. It's hard even to find the energy to take a stand verbally/in conversation, much less be an activist for an important cause.

But sometimes, you have to take a stand, at least in conversation if not with further action - "you see the darndest things" - people using others, trampling the weak and needy. The line that hits me in the face - "when you own a big chunk of the bloody third world, the babies just come with the scenery." Wow. I am afraid that I do own a big chunk of the bloody third world. I believe in systemic sin and my culpability in it. Not everyone does, but I just can't get past it. Maybe it's my bleeding heart, my naivete, my gullibility. But I am in so much comfort and my country is so wealthy. And we want to keep things that way, of course. But how do we do that and sleep at night when the very economies that support our wealth and comfort do so at the expense of vast swaths of humanity? I am under no illusions that I know all there is to know about economics and politics. But I do believe that our thirst for oil and economic prosperity results in all sorts of ethical compromises that hurt millions of people all over the world. Lord have mercy.

Don't get me wrong. I love my country and the ideals that we're always trumpeting, even if we don't live up to them very well. I don't "blame America first" as talk radio blowhards like to say. I do blame humanity first, though. We are not "basically good." We are basically fallen. Basically selfish. Basically want to be God ourselves. We want to do things our way, because we know best.

I want to trust God completely. I don't. But I want to. Lord help my unbelief. Lord help me let go of the things I cling to so tightly for security - my money, my job, my family, my marriage. Help me trust that those things are your gifts for me to enjoy, but not to worship.

Us and Them

I've been thinking a lot lately about how the "Us and Them" meme seems to weave its way through our world. I don't know if any of this is particularly deep or informative to you, but it just seems pervasive to me, at least lately. How have we divided ourselves, let me count the ways.

It is obvious in church life on so many levels. Where does separation begin there? It might be easier to ask where it doesn't exist, because it seems to be everywhere. There are obvious separations - we have Catholic/Eastern Orthodox/Protestant division in the big-C Church. I am not terribly familiar with anything but Protestantism, so sticking with that, it's obvious that we have a multitude of denominational (even non-denominational!) separations. Within denominations, there's frequently further division between conservative/liberal(hate those words) factions. Then there's racial/ethnic separation, which is a whole other can of worms. And then there's the clique-y separations within a particular congregation, with all the silly power struggles over the minutiae of church life. At this level, I sometimes think about the conflicted groups facing off like the Sharks and the Jets in West Side Story. Hmm....next time there's a conflict like that at our church, I'll suggest a dance off. Hope no one breaks a hip.

I guess there are a couple things going on right now that have brought "Us and Them" to mind. One is the kids from out in the country that we've been bringing in to church. It is a joy to have their energy in our building. I expected more backlash from the older folks, but as I mentioned before, they have been almost entirely gracious. Several have been trying to get involved as best they can in welcoming the kids and in helping by teaching Sunday School or driving the van. It is wonderful to have a tangible mission - we can see that these children are being changed and so are we. But still....."us and them".....it's there, even if it's not explicitly stated. Our temptation is to think we are saving them when it is God who saves. And I mean no disrespect to our parishioners, but I think that if the families of these kids came in greater numbers, they would be welcome - as long as they know their place as outsiders, as less-than those who have been here all along. I don't say that to pick on the folks in our church - this happens at most churches, I think.

The other, more personal "us and them" lately refers to my family as "Us" and the church/town as "Them," and vice versa. We are not from here, and "here" is a small town. My wife and I have always been suburbanites, though all 4 of our parents grew up in a rural environment. There are people who have been in this church/town for 30 years and are still thought of as "new." The different lifestyle has at times been a difficult transition for us. For example, we have found that most people know who we are, even if we haven't met them. That makes sense to me in a small town. What I was not prepared for, though, was that almost none of them will introduce themselves. They are almost unfailingly polite and will not be explicitly unkind. If I am driving through town and wave to other drivers or pedestrians, they will cheerfully wave back. It seems friendly, and I think it's meant that way, but something is being held back. Now obviously, self-introduction is a two-way street, and I have made efforts to do so. But it's a bit exhausting to be the only one doing it. To most of these folks, we are "them." That's not necessarily thought of negatively, of course.

The differences we see between these folks and us are many - please excuse me for painting with a broad brush, but here are some of them. My wife and I both have more than one graduate degree while many folks here have not been to college. A high percentage of the population here uses Fox News as their source for information about the world. We, um, don't. Most of these people do not read the newspaper (the major papers in the state don't even offer home delivery here) or much of anything, really. There is a strong work ethic here that is admirable - to a point. The problem is that the need for sabbath is hardly acknowledged, at least that's my impression. Now having said all that, I realize that we must seem like over-educated intellectual snobs to these folks. It's probably more true than I care to admit. I know with every fiber of my being that I am no "better" than them, no less guilty of sin, no more loved by God. But we sure are different!

So how do we live together? How do we minister to each other and love each other? I think we'll always be "us" and "them," but we have to make it work. Why do we separate ourselves this way? Why do we objectify and dehumanize each other? Is it all about power and control? And by power and control, I don't necessarily mean power/control over "them." As a white American male, I am not familiar with being an oppressed minority, but I'm sure that oppressed minorities will think(justifiably) in "us" vs. "them" terms too. But thinking this way can be a coping mechanism that gives one power in some sense by defining reality for oneself. (ok, I'm getting in over my head here - I'm just an engineer)

I have not addressed the most personal way "us" vs. "them" has manifested itself in our life - that of pastor and congregation as us/them. I will leave that for another day, I think. I will have to tread carefully there.

Success, success, success (does it matter)?

With apologies to the Rolling Stones (title is from the lyrics of "Shattered," if you're not a fan)....

I wonder how one might best define "success" in the context of pastoral vocation. Certainly numbers are meaningful - I'm an engineer for crying out loud, I can't ignore numbers. One might argue that the number of folks in the pews each week is a good indicator of the "success" of the church or of the pastor. Each one of those numbers is an individual soul that is precious to God and capable of joining God's mission in that place with their own unique gifts. They all matter, and the more that are present, the more potential there is for the Kingdom of God(whatever that means). If attendance/participation declines or increases precipitously, it can be an indication of the health of the congregation or of the pastor's "performance." But this is not an objective science experiment, carefully controlled and easily measured. Attendance is but one indicator, one piece of data. Taken alone, it misses much more information than it provides. Statistics do not lie. Interpreters of statistics do, however, though it's usually unintentional. Hmm...kind of like scripture - the error isn't so much in the data(scripture), but in the interpretation.

How do you measure spiritual growth and formation? If you make a deep difference in the lives of a few people, is that as important as growing in number? We can look to Joel Osteen if we want to find a pastor who is really good at growing the numbers of his church. I have stepped in puddles after a soft rainfall that are deeper than Osteen, but hey, he fills up that arena every week. Ok, I'm done bashing him, but the point remains - if you tell people what they want to hear and make them feel good, you can accumulate a sizable following, even if your message is completely vapid. Are you then a "success?" What really matters? And when I say that, what I mean is, "What really matters to God Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?"

Are our churches seeking to please God? Or are we seeking to look good - to ourselves, to our community, to our denomination? Do we sing, "they'll know we are Christians by our love?" Or is it more like, "they'll know we are an imporant church by our numbers?" Why do we show up every week? To build up our empire?

We are a few weeks in to our contemporary Sunday night service. It has been fun, and as a traditional worship lover, I am struck by how much I respond to the more emotionally charged praise music. I find that it moves me and that I need to be moved that way in worship. These children we pick up and bring in add a lot to the experience too. This past Sunday, we had a significantly smaller number in the evening than in previous weeks, but Sunday morning attendance was a little higher than usual. It's interesting that in my mind, I separate attendance in terms of age - the kids we bring in are one component, and the "adults"/others are a second one. Like they aren't equal somehow. I am 100% positive that others think about this in the same way - an us/them mentality, even if there's no conscious animosity toward "them." Anyhow, the low attendance didn't go unnoticed, and was a point of concern for at least one person. It seems that folks are just waiting for something to worry about. This same person told the pastor he was "praying for her success" here. I appreciate the sentiment, but I wonder how this person would define success. I suspect it is a moving target, but mostly related to numbers. The numbers are going to be evaluated on a week-by-week basis.

Whose success should we pray for and work for? I don't think it's the pastor's. Maybe it's the stuff I associate with the word that bugs me so much. The idea that we can all just work really hard and pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and bless the whole world by our obviously awesome relationship with God that allows us to be the agents of change and get lots of credit with everyone including God in the process. Humbly, of course. What a steaming load of garbage. IT IS GOD WHO SAVES, NOT US. Who do we think we are, anyway? Of course we have responsibility to work for the kingdom of God, which involves doing things. But we have to acknowledge our own sin, our own need for salvation, even our own need to confess this and share it with others. And we can't get so obsessed with measuring our performance that we ignore what's really important. God will take care of the numbers.

expectations

Some things in life have to be experienced to be understood. For example, you kinda know what to expect when you get married based on observation. Most of us have our parents' marriage to reflect on, even if it is no longer intact. We can look to other marriages with which we may be familiar, or we can watch TV and see what that tells us - both sitcoms and reality shows. Even Dateline/20-20 shows can show us how a marriage might go horribly wrong. But until we enter into that adventure, we cannot understand the intricacies of that relationship. Additionally, each marriage is a little different with a different blend of personalities. A similar example is having children. Until you actually have kids, you can't fully appreciate the experience. It never ceases to amaze me how many people who have never had kids are such great self-proclaimed experts on child-rearing. And they can be quick to dispense their sage advice - same goes for marriage.

And of course, the same goes for "parish life." The experience of dealing with all the issues, big and small, of being the pastor's family is something that must be lived to be fully appreciated. Going into this adventure, I was aware that it would be a growing and learning experience for all of us. I thought about those examples I just gave - marriage and child-rearing - and how it was probably a similar deal. And it is. There is no way to prepare for it fully - you have to just do it.

Here are some of the things I expected:

1. At least a few people will not like us
2. At least a few people will try to undermine the pastor's efforts
3. Some people will be unquestionably loyal simply because my wife is the pastor. They will be loyal to any pastor at their church.
4. There will be at least a small number of salt-of-the-earth types who want the kingdom of God to flourish where they are - and they will do the work to till the soil.
5. There will be some beautiful moments of grace
6. We will be discouraged at times
7. At some point, there will be people who want to see us go, and they may be successful eventually - we won't be there forever.
8. Most problems will be about power and control, and they will be compounded by poor communication and pettiness.
9. Some parishioners will think that they own us, that they can tell us how to live our lives and that they need to teach us. (certainly they are teaching us - they have a lot to offer - but they are not to be the pastor's spiritual advisors)

I was right on pretty much all counts. So why is it so hard to take bad behavior and unrealistic expectations from parishioners when we knew they were coming? I suppose we hadn't lived out these experiences yet. We should not take these things personally - most problems here were problems before we ever showed up. The average stay for the pastors here over the last decade or so is about 2 years. We've been here almost a year and a half. So clearly, the honeymoon should be over and it is. But it's hard not to take personal attacks personally - even when they were part of our expectations. We knew there would be people who want us to leave, but I guess the idea of it was not as hurtful as the reality is.

But we are not stuck in despair. For one thing, there are still many good things happening. The Sunday night service has been well received, and these children coming have been a lovely blessing. On Halloween, we had a covered dish supper and then walked over with the kids to the "trunk or treat" celebration at a nearby church. It's an annual community event there, and they do a great job hosting. Anyhow, as my wife took her little group over to the large inflatable slide, a 12 year old Latina girl put her arm around her and said, "Pastor, when I'm at our church, my heart feels warm." OUR church! Warm heart! (John Wesley, anyone?) There is hope here. There is momentum building in spite of us and the petty bickering that has gone on for years.

But how long can we stay in this place? One of the complications of making a mid-life career switch is how it affects your family. What kind of life does this give our children? How much do we weigh that in making decisions? Conflict is not something we can avoid by just finding a new appointment. Is what we are experiencing here consistent with our expectations or not? And what would our expectations be at a new place? Do we have reasonable expectations? What exactly are they?

We certainly can't run around from appointment to appointment, hoping that "this will be the one!" This is much like a church running through pastors, hoping for the same thing - a match made in heaven that will dispel all the bad stuff - the lion will lie down with the lamb (and not eat it). It's a nice thought, but totally unrealistic.

So - what should our expectations be for our lives as a pastor's family? How much do we weigh the various costs in our decisions about staying/going? There is much to consider, and there is much at stake, both for our family and for our church. We will pray about this fervently, asking for wisdom, discernment, and vision. Oh, and also for patience, love, and grace in our relationships. If you read this, any prayers you want to offer on our behalf would be welcome.