Author Archives: jledmiston

Yesterday, I wrote about “good matches” between congregations and pastors or between people looking for spiritual community and those communities.  But – to be honest – sometimes saying “It wasn’t a good match” is another way of saying “This person/church/community wasn’t ______ enough.”

Another way of putting it, in a most personal way:  “You aren’t the right fit.”  Yes, we take it personally.

Maybe this code for:

• “You are too old.”
• “You are too young.”
• “You are too black.”
• “You are too white.”
• “You are too female.
• “You are too male.”
• “You don’t look like our next pastor should look.” 

I get it that Pastor Nominating Committees – for example – are looking for someone who will “fit” into an existing context.

Let’s say that all the other pastors on a church staff are all male.  Chances are you are especially seeking a female – at least if we are talking about a Mainline Protestant congregation.

Or what if you are trying to expand the racial diversity of your staff and you don’t need another white person?

Or what if your staff is comprised of several people over the age of 50 and you really want to hire someone under 40 for some age diversity?

Or what if everybody on staff is an extrovert or a Type A personality or a Myers-Briggs “J” and you badly need an introvert/laid back/”P.”

It hurts to hear “You just weren’t a good fit” or “You weren’t what we were looking for.”  Ouch.   We can’t exactly change who we are.  And we live in such a litigious society that we can’t exactly say, “We didn’t need another white, female 60 year old.”

Consider, though, that we in the Church are in the Holy Spirit business.  We need to recognize that the person we are looking for is not always the one God is guiding us to call.   

But in the meantime, here’s some unsolicited advice to those who interview candidates for church jobs – or any job:   Please don’t speak in code when turning someone down for a position.  Please don’t say, “You were not a good fit” or “You were not what we were looking for.”

Gentle readers:  What would be a better thing to say when a church nominating committee has decided to say “no”?

“It just wasn’t a good match.”  

I find myself saying this fairly often in Church World to explain to curious minds why a pastor left without a new call, or why an educator suddenly decided to move on, or why a family of new members joined a different congregation across town just months after joining our church.

Sometimes . . .

• What we expected didn’t align with what we actually experienced.
• The call of the pastor/musician/secretary/educator changed.
• The needs of the congregation changed.

Sometimes it simply isn’t a good match and that’s okay.  It’s certainly not the end of the world.

But we can avoid the pain and trouble of poor matches with these basics:

• Be your authentic self in interviews.  Yes, this economy and the dearth of good jobs might tempt us to portray ourselves falsely (“I love working with toddlers!“)  But it’s soul-sucking to work in a position that is not a true call.
• Ask hard questions and expect real answers.  Does this church exist to serve the people who are already here or to reach out to those who are not yet with us?  What are the skeletons?  What would you say that some people in the congregation love more than Jesus?
• Acknowledge that none of us is perfect.  And don’t expect perfection.  (I thought they were Christians in that church, but I heard two women gossiping in the church parking lot.)

Because we don’t have time to waste, because we were born to make a difference we need to discern – prayerfully –  The Right Match.  The Holy Spirit, of course, plays a part guiding us in the right direction.  The community plays a part in affirming us (or not.)  But it’s worth it to take the time to get it right.

Image is by Kandinsky.

When RevGalBlogPals – the blog ring – was getting started almost ten years ago, I regularly read You’ve Really Got to Love Your People – a blog written by Sarah who now writes here.  As a young adult, whenever I would complain about cranky people or selfish people or infuriating people – especially as a new pastor – my Dad would say, “Just Love ‘Em.”  It was his answer for everything.

I felt like Sarah was channeling my Dad who had passed away before I started writing A Church for Starving Artists.  (Thank you Sarah.)

Loving your people is huge, especially in the Church.

It’s possible to craft excellent sermons, create meaningful worship experiences, organize strong programs, and teach intellectually stimulating classes, but still fail as spiritual leaders because we don’t love our people.

Believe me, it’s easy to become cynical and sarcastic in Church World – even (especially?) as a leader. We hear people complain about the brand of creamer used during coffee hour or the bulletin cover art.  We receive repeated commentary on the way things used to be.  We are criticized for not juggling all duties equally – so the sermon might be weak this Sunday because we aspired to orchestrate a meaningful funeral on Thursday, or the mission trip details were shaky because it was also the week a new class was starting.  In a small church the same people are often doing more than one Big Job and we simply can’t do everything equally well.  But it’s okay.

If we love our people, the social and pastoral capital such love builds will minimize the drama of creamer brand debacles or the criticism over weak sermons.  If we authentically love our people, we can share difficult truths with parishioners that can be heard.  If we deeply love our people, we can move them into new paradigms less painfully.

Sadly, though, there are many pastors who do not seem to love their people.  And here’s another truth:  some people are excruciatingly difficult to love. They are impossible to please.  They ooze meanness.  Some of them seem to forget that church is About God and not about them.

Even love the bullies if at all possible.  It always helps me to try to imagine bullies the way God must see them.  Instead of seeing them as mean-spirited and cruel, God can melt our feelings into compassion.  Mean people are often broken and they need unconditional love.

It’s one of the first pastoral responsibilities: to love our people.  Just love ’em. And if they won’t let us love them, we then need to move on.

Maybe I’ll make a pillow.

In my little 21st Century Church Road Show, I ask this question of pastors and other leaders:

Are you more afraid of God or members of your congregation?

Fear is maybe the wrong word here, in terms of how we define it these days.  But the truth is that we sometimes try to please other people more than we try to please God.  You know what I’m talking about:

• The Church Lady who threatens emotional mayhem if we do not keep her as Moderator of the Deacons.
• The wealthy member who will withdraw his pledge if the worship hour is changed from 11 to 10 am.
• The Senior Pastor who will give you the silent treatment if you don’t agree to chair the stewardship campaign again this year.

Who has power in your congregation?  It might not be the Pastor.  Who is it?

• The ‘best friend’ of the pastor who seems to honcho The Inner Circle?
• The church administrator who controls everything from the calendar to the thermostat?
• The Associate Pastor who is a better leader than the Head of Staff?
• The two people who count the donations every Sunday?

Or is it possibly God . . .  in that the question before every meeting, decision, or activity is:  Does this please God?  Does this transform our community so that we are more on earth like it is in heaven?  Does this alter our relationship with God and each other in a positive way?  Does this bring healing and wholeness?  Does this make more faithful disciples?

If the answer is “No” we are doing this for ourselves.  It’s about us – or the person with the power.  So who has the power in your congregation?

Image from Bruce Almighty.

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.

Psalm 116:15

Remembering with gratitude.

In my denomination, churches sometimes request or are assigned Administrative Commissions to walk alongside congregational leaders as they discern what God is calling them to be in the future.  I’ve come to the conclusion that every church needs one.

Because we are in the thick of cultural shifts that make people anxious, because so many of our once vibrant congregations are shadows of their former selves, and because many of our congregations are stuck being a church that no longer works or satisfies, every congregation needs a coach.  A team of coaches is preferable.

Imagine . . .

• A team of people who go in and teach a congregation what 21st Century Church looks like and equips leaders to be that church for their own context and community over a period of at least one year.
• A commission that assesses – along with the congregation – the possibilities for their Future Story and then – once a path is chosen – they coach them down that path for at least one year.
• A cadre of Merry Helpers who encourage, pump up, guide, and pray with a church who wants to move forward but doesn’t know how for at least one year.
• A  M.A.S.H. unit (Ministry After S@*# Happens) that helps with legal, emotional, and disaster relief – whether the disaster is a flood or clergy misconduct for at least one year.

Yes, some of our Presbyteries/Conferences/Dioceses/Associations offer these teams, but most do not.  There are denominational programs that help congregations examine where they’ve been and the possibilities about where they might go.  But many are lacking in terms of follow-through and follow-up.

These days require the investment of community coaching for our congregations. Any church interested in continuing to serve their neighbors and world ten years from now would jump at this kind of assistance, I believe.  Churches interested only in serving themselves will not exist in ten years anyway, so if they refuse coaching, that’s okay too.

Yes, it would be a huge investment of money and consultation talent.  But the mainline congregations out there can indeed afford it if we allot some of the funds from the sale of closed congregations which once thrived on valuable real estate.  Thoughts?

Image source.

Don’t you hate it when people change the rules in the middle of the game?

[Note: I’m a big fan of professional coaches who help sort of work-related shifts and other quirky features of our vocations. This post was shaped by my own coach.  So thank you JH.]

Anxiety is high for many of our pastors and many of our churches.  We have pastors who are doing their best but what they learned in seminary isn’t working any more.  We have congregations who wonder what happened to the full pews of years past.

The truth is that the rules have changed.  And – in addition to anxiety – some of us are angry.

As for pastors, we learned in seminary how to exegete and interpret Scripture, how to visit the sick and bury the dead, how to officiate a meaningful wedding or baptism or communion service.  We learned how to run a meeting.  But now, ministry is less about management and more about leadership, and we don’t know how to lead in this ever-changing culture.  We have no idea how to reach out to digital generations.  We are blamed by our congregations for the low attendance and diminishing coffers.  But we are doing the best we can . . . and if we could Just Hold On until retirement. . .   Maybe it’s five years away or maybe it’s ten years away, but we need to keep our jobs.  But we are tired.

As for congregations, we are dizzy from global changes.  There are fruits we don’t recognize in the produce department of the grocery store, much less characters we don’t recognize on reality television.  The world is spinning out of control according to news reports about Ebola and human trafficking and gun violence and chemical warfare.  There are videos of beheadings, for Pete’s sake.  So, with the world whirling around us, can’t we just sit in familiar pews, singing familiar hymns, praying familiar prayers and hear a comforting sermon?  We thought we only had to be Good Church Members.  Now we’re told we have to Disciples. What does that even mean?  We’ve been in the church all our lives.  And now we’re tired.

As JH pointed out, some of us react to these rule changes with anger – which is connected to grief.  It’s simply where we are.

So, here’s my quandary:  what do we do with both our tired pastors and tired congregations?  They are good people for whom the rules have changed.

I have my thoughts, but would also appreciate yours:

• Let’s respect and love those who have served faithfully, working with them according to their generational proclivities.
• Let’s ask questions that point to our future:  How can we retire well? What legacy do we want to leave for our church?  What do we want for our congregation ten years from now?
• What are we willing to give up for the sake of the Gospel?
• What are we afraid of giving up?
• Where is the joy in our ministry right now (whether we are the pastor or the congregation)?

Yes, the rules have changed.  And – honestly – I for one am not sorry about this. This is a great time to be The Church and a great time to serve The Church. But we need to learn some new ecclesiastical, cultural, and spiritual rules.  It’s going to be okay.

Image source.

One of the quirks of being a parish pastor who is also a parent is that we take our children with us to work on the biggest day of each work week.  This is in no way the same as “Take Your Daughter to Work Day” or “Take Your Son to Work Day.”

Imagine that you are a surgeon scheduled to insert a pacemaker or you are a caterer with a big wedding or you are an administrative assistant with a major report due.  And there’s the expectation that your children will be with you – maybe down the hall or maybe right beside you in a Pack N Play.  There are not many professions that assume that the professional will bring his or her children along.  But that’s what clergy parents of young children do on a regular basis.

I look back to those Sunday mornings when I packed up my sermon and liturgy, the lesson plans for a new members’ class, a diaper bag, and  snacks (in case there were needs after worship that ran into the kids’ lunchtime.)  We piled into the car and drove to church, among the first to arrive and the last to leave. What was a one or two hour stint for most children was about four or five hours for our children who – as the pastors’ kids  – were expected to be well-behaved, friendly, and poised, even as preschoolers.

Our own PKs are long grown now and it’s been a while since I felt the utter exhaustion of Parenting While Pastoring on a Sunday morning.  (I remember the unspeakable joy when FBC was old enough to drive and the kids could arrive and leave like regular people.)  But, for some reason, as I was driving alone yesterday to preach, I remembered B who was the paid nursery worker in our congregation when the kids were tiny.

B. made it possible for me to do my work on Sunday mornings because she was already in the nursery ready to welcome my kids to a safe place.  And the congregation made it possible for her to be there because they paid her for arriving early and leaving late so that The Pastors’ Kids could have a place to hang out while their parents prepared for Sunday School and Worship.

So thank you to all those – paid nursery workers and generous friends – who helped raise our children on Sunday mornings.  We couldn’t have done it without you.

And if your pastor has young children, note that they could use some kudos and some grace for doing something rather extraordinary every Sunday.

Previously on Church . . .

It’s been my dream to write Church – The TV Show (most likely broadcast on cable due to language and content) but it’s increasingly clear to me that I will never be able to get very far with it.

Where I am so far:  Pitch written.  First season charted out.

Why I can’t go farther:

• I cannot possibly create story lines better than real life.  And I can’t share real life because of confidentiality. . . and for fear of lawsuits for those who believe I’m writing about them even when I’m not.
• I have hoped this would be a project that would make watchers say, “I could be part of a church like that.”  But instead, I fear that too many will say, “Why would anyone put up with that?”

Church.

Most of us in professional ministry Have Stories.  Riotous, colorful, outrageous, true stories.

Mine include cancer in unspeakable body parts, jaw-dropping misconduct, national secrets, epic romance, splashy worship, shameful racism, Lucille Ball-esque pratfalls, and unspeakably beautiful deathbed moments.  Reports are out that Amy Poehler’s next show is church-centered.  Because she is a genius, it will be funny and amazing.  But it will not really be about Church as most of us know Church.

Maybe some of us should just create an oral project and hit the road with it.  Or maybe we should pitch to  The Moth the idea of spending a whole weekend telling amazing church stories.  My first one would be “The Call Story in GYN Stirrups.” Some of you already know this story.

It’s a shame if we can’t share with people what Real Church is all about.  Yes, it’s infuriating and shameful and ridiculous.  But it’s also breathtaking and transformational and gorgeous.  And the stories are rarely told.

This post is offered in memory of KB – my co-writer for Church.  We shared episode ideas for over a decade and many of us miss her terribly.

My post brain-candy reflections from a Strategic Leadership class
have me wondering about the next generation of New Church Planters. According to Pew, most Gen Y-ers (ages 18-33)  can be characterized this way:

• More connected to friends than traditional political or religious institutions
• More in debt but hopeful about their financial futures
• Less likely to be married, often because of financial concerns
• More racially diverse

And although 16% of Gen Y-ers are outliers (and these characteristics do not describe them) the other 84% of this generation – according to Professor Rich Honack – are known for:

• Being less career motivated than their Gen X siblings and Boomer parents
• Serving an average of 1 1/2 years on each of their first four jobs after college
• Being globally connected
• Being short-term planners with no long-term vision
• Oversharing
• Inventing Gap Years
• Being disinterested in having a driver’s license or a mortgage
• Being financially at-risk (42% live with their parents for financial reasons)

Again, this does not describe all Gen Y’ers, of course, but sociologists seem to believe they’ve tracked some commonalities among most of them.

So here’s my question:  How will Gen Y-ers impact the establishment of new worshipping communities in the coming years?

Note:  words like “establishment” and “worshipping communities” are not often typed beside words like “Generation Y.”  But as I work with students preparing for professional ministry, many of them are interested in – and perhaps called to – starting new congregations.   What will that look like?

• Will Gen Y pastors want to leave after 1 ½ years on the job?
• Will the transience of twenty-somethings allow a new church to become stable?
• Will Gen Y-led congregations always struggle financially?
• Will older generations want to be part of such a different kind of church?

I find these questions more exciting than anxiety-inducing but they mostly speak to the changing landscape of our churches.  What are your thoughts about Gen Y-ers in spiritual leadership?  What do you look forward to as batons are passed?

Image of artist Justin West who – at age 23 – is considered one of the most talented in his generation.