A Church for Starving Artists

In light of my last post, I have been reading books about people who have left the Church for various reasons:

• Because the Church blamed her bipolar disorder on her own faithlessness. (Anna Gazmarian in Devout: A Memoir of Doubt)
• Because the Church shunned her after divorcing her husband (Promise Enlow in The Exvangelicals)
• Because it’s increasingly hard to find a stable and healthy congregation (Jim Davis, Michael Graham & Ryan Burge in The Great Dechurching: Who’s Leaving, Why Are They Going, and What Will It Take to Bring Them Back?

Quotes like these are everywhere in the media:

I have no interest in going back to temple and little trust or appetite for organized religion.  Jessica Grose in a The New York Times op-ed.

You told me to love my enemies, to even do good to those who wish for bad things. You told me to never “hate” anyone and to always find ways to encourage people. You told me it’s better to give than receive, to be last instead of first. You told me that Jesus looks at what I do for the least-of-these as the true depth of my faith. You told me to focus on my own sin and not to judge. You told me to be accepting and forgiving.

I paid attention. I took every lesson. And I did what you told me.

But now, you call me a libtard. A queer-lover. You call me “woke.” A backslider. You call me a heretic. A child of the devil. You call me soft. A snowflake. A socialist.

What the hell did you expect me to do? I thought you were serious, apparently not. Chris Kratzer on Threads

As a mainline Presbyterian Christian with some Bible Church years under my belt and a commitment to Young Life in high school, I find myself semi-obsessed with the flagrant fouls* committed in our congregations. I would feel pessimistic about The Church, but I’m feeling high from a weekend where one congregation seeking a new pastor for years unanimously called an excellent new leader, another congregation overwhelmingly voted to sell some of their property to Dream Key Partners to build affordable housing, and a small college installed an extraordinary new chaplain in the presence of a packed chapel filled with college students – many of them queer. God is amazing even when we forget that God created us to be amazing.

*It’s college basketball season. Thanks be to God.

Note: I recommend all three of the featured books. Can’t put them down.

And by “okay” I mean “acceptable.”

For example:

• Is it okay to mock your pastor behind their back?
• Is it okay to send anonymous letters to church members?
• Is it okay to use financial pledges as weapons?
• Is it okay to have secret meetings to strategize against something or someone?
• Is it okay to make purchases “for the church” without authorization?
• Is it okay to serve in the same role for over 6 years?
• Is it okay to yell “shut up” in a meeting?
• Is it okay to yell at the pastor and storm out during worship?
• Is it okay to make racist comments in meetings?
• Is it okay to ignore signs of addiction among staff members?
• Is it okay to use church credit cards for personal purchases?
• Is it okay to gossip?
• Is it okay to expect the pastor’s family to participate in everything?
• Is it okay to date the pastor?
• Is it okay to get drunk with the pastor?
• Is it okay to expect the pastor to be available 24/7?

I often write about church culture and there are multiple ways to understand a congregation’s culture. But the simplest is to identify what’s okay and what’s not okay.

As most of us know, there are mean people in our congregations although none of us would identify either our congregations or ourselves as “mean.” Denial is a killer.

And when we have terrible boundaries or we tolerate bullies or we play games with God’s people – and when we do not hold each other accountable for such things – we are killing our congregation. We might think we are protecting it or honoring it or preserving it. But we are killing it.

On most days, I see multiple signs of the Spirit moving through people in the way they serve and it’s beautiful. And on some days, I see utter dysfunction in the congregations God loves. It’s not okay.

This is the season – in each of the monotheistic faiths – when we take a hard look at who we are. Even if we consider ourselves to be good and faithful people, please take that hard look. I’m weary of “former Christians” lifting up all the destructive actions that made them leave the Church. The truth is that they are right.

I was an exhausted pastor on vacation and had attended worship at my home church in Chapel Hill, so happy to be able to worship without having any responsibilities. The church had a new pastor and as we greeted him on our way out, I asked “How’s it going?” His response shocked me.

“I’m having so much fun!”

I wondered, “Who is this strange pastor who dares to have fun while serving a congregation I knew to be demanding?” (His initials are BD for those who know and love him.)

Meeting with a different colleague last week, he shared that – when he talks with exhausted pastors – he asks them, “What are you paid to do that you love doing? Focus on those things.”

What is most fun about your current role – whether you are a pastor, a first responder or a stay-at-home parent? I can only answer for myself:

• I love meeting people for coffee to talk about their calling and watching them figure it out.
• I love meetings where participants get that they are together to discern Big Ideas that have something to do with the Holy.
• I love witnessing that moment when a congregation decides to step out on a limb and do something that will change people’s lives.
• I love meeting new pastors for lunch. (Can you believe I get paid to meet people for lunch and talk about what’s fun for them in ministry?)

Those are the fun things. And I’ll admit that some of those coffee meetups, meetings, and moments are about not-fun-things. They are about cruelties and injustices and deep grief and shame. Those are not at all fun and yet I can take them when there is some lightness/fun sprinkled into each day.

“What are you paid to do that you love doing?

It’s a great question for these Lenten Days.

Image of organizational psychologist Adam Grant with a quote from his Threads post today.

This article by Andrew Van Dam taps into my obsession with both statistics and calling.

It’s a rare privilege to serve in a “calling” rather than a mere “job.” Few people are called to be nut sorters (read the Van Dam article) or telemarketers, and yet when we are talking about our life purpose we are also talking about the meaning of life and God and that Billie Eilish song.

I was recently in a seminary meeting in which the speaker shared that professional ministers require 65 competencies which probably ranks #1 for all vocations/jobs. Those competencies were not specifically named but I can venture a guess:

Preaching/Teaching/PublicSpeaking/FinancialManagement/PeopleManagement/Cheerleading/BedsideManner/BoilerRepair/CommunityOutreach/Visioning/Evangelism/CommunityOrganizing/NonProfitManagement/WindowReplacement/Hospitality/ProjectManagement/Prayer/RetreatPlanning/CoffeeService/GriefCounseling/PreMaritalCounseling/BaptismCounseling/AddictionCounseling/Connector/Praying/Exegesis/ConflictResolution/Researcher/Equipping/YardMaintenance/TechSkills/MultiMediaSkills/WorkLifeBalance/LifelongLearning/BoundaryTraining/AntiRacismTraining/CulturalAwareness/SacramentalEffectiveness/PersonalBoundaries/Warmth/FamilySystemsTraining/Compassion/LeadingChange/BullyMaintenance/StaffManagement/SpiritualGrowth/SocialWitness/ProblemSolving/OrganizationalLeadership/MinorElectricalRepair/RodentControl/HistoricalResearch/CemeteryMaintenance/OfficerTraining/Coaching/FirePrevention/BasicMentalHealthFirstAid/SpiritualPractioner/Exorcism/FakingExtroversion/CarryingATune/Writing/Faithfulness/GoodHumor/SelfDifferentiation

Note to all Pastoral Search Committees, Seminarians, Committees on Preparation for Ministry:

• No, we will not find anyone with all these competencies.
• Yes, many of these competencies are superfluous, contextual, and random.

According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics . . .

• The wettest jobs are nurse midwives and animal caretakers (tie).
• The job requiring the heaviest lifting is firefighter.
• The job requiring the most standing up is butcher.
• The job requiring the most work experience is engineering manager.

Clergy were nowhere to be found in this report.

Professional ministry also involves wetness, heavy lifting, standing up and work experience. But I’d like to suggest to our friends in the BLS that

The role requiring the most emotional intelligence is Professional Clergy.

Pastors lacking preaching skills or financial management can nevertheless be excellent ministers if they have people skills. Pastors who love their people – even the bullies and the broken – tend to be successful clergy people and by “successful” I mean that over the course of one’s ministerial career, there will be inspiration, community, and some semblance of personal and corporate transformation.

What were we made for? What is our calling?

The cool thing about being a professional pastor is that our role is to shepherd other people as they grapple with those questions for themselves. How do we measure how well we have connected people to God and to each other? We can’t. And yet – if we are extremely fortunate – we see the fruits of our competencies every once in a while.

Image of Billie Eilish from her video “What Was I Made For?”

As Jesus was approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying,
‘Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord!
Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!’
Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, ‘Teacher, order your disciples to stop.’ He answered, ‘I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.’ Luke 19:37-40

Yes, I’m several weeks ahead of myself in terms of the Lenten calendar, but I can’t stop thinking about the problem of not speaking up especially when we are in the presence of injustice or meanness. Followers of Jesus speak up, at least when we are being faithful. (Peter was sadly more fearful than faithful on a couple occasions. And so are we.)

Imagine that you are in a meeting – maybe even a church meeting – and you hear lies about the pastor. Or you hear someone call someone else a racist word. Or you hear someone yell, “Shut up!” to the another member. Or you hear someone make a joke about a disabled child.

There are many reasons why we keep quiet: fear, “politeness,” indifference, not wanting to “rock the boat.” I’ve heard all these reasons from Good Church People. I’m weary of this.

Who taught us to refrain from speaking when we hear lies, cruel comments, unnecessarily harsh words or slander? Who taught us to look the other way?

Among the issues church people have shared with me over the course of my almost forty years of professional ministry:

• I saw the elder throw a lamp at the pastor.
• The pastor told the associate pastor to shut up at a board meeting.
• I heard an elder make a comment about our (female) pastor’s breasts.
• Our pastor regularly humiliates the church administrator at our staff meetings.
• The organist sometimes explodes at our choir practice.
• It’s crazy how many people use the “n” word in the church parking lot after worship.
• A member shared a rumor that the pastor’s having an affair.
• A group of leaders told me they’re trying to get the pastor fired.

I usually follow these statements with, “And then what did you say?” “And then what did you do?”

Invariably, these folks report that they were afraid to say something. Or they didn’t want to exacerbate things. Or they didn’t know how to stand up to the pastor’s authority. Or they couldn’t possibly stand up to that church member. Or they were shocked to the point to silence.

Who taught us that it’s okay to hear such things or witness such things and not speak up?

If we believe what we say we believe about the message of Jesus in terms of loving our neighbor, defending the weak, speaking the truth in love, and driving out demons, how can we stay silent? As Jesus entered Jerusalem on the last week of his life, he admonished the Pharisees who told him to quiet his disciples. If these disciples were silent, the stones would shout out. Amen.

For the love of God, please speak up when you hear anything that mocks Jesus. Not speaking up feeds dysfunction and empowers bullies. Not speaking up gives the impression that you agree with tormentors.

Imagine how different things would be if we held each other accountable:

• Why in the world would you say that?
• This is not how Christians speak to each other.
• What makes you think that’s okay?
• How can you serve as an elder if you share gossip?
• You are better than this. Words like that only hurt our church.
• If someone said that about you, please know I would stop them.

So many of the conflicts in our congregations would go away if we held each other accountable. Please speak up.

The thing about fast tracking is that there is a higher likelihood of crashing.

And yet, in our increasingly no-one-size-fits-all world, sometimes the healthiest thing to do in terms of moving forward in mission and ministry is to fast track leaders so that they can get started doing what they’ve been called to do. Consider professional ministers.

In my denomination, we call the process of preparing people to be ordained to the office of Minister of the Word and Sacrament being “under care.” Our denomination has constitutional requirements for ordination. Seminaries have other requirements. Presbyteries have still other requirements. This is a 3+ year process that involves academics, field education, counseling, coaching, oral and written testing, and papers to write and defend.

There are ways to fast track this process. In my denomination, some requirements are sealed in stone (like taking Ancient Hebrew and Koine Greek languages and subsequent exegesis classes.) And other requirements are looser (like you can do field education in your home church in some seminaries and Presbyteries.)

Sometimes fast tracking makes sense and sometimes it doesn’t.

When it makes sense: there is an immigrant pastor from Brazil without a formal seminary education who has served a church in their country for 4 years. But they have now come to a U.S. seminary to seek official ordination and they have so many hoops to jump through it feels impossible. But there is a congregation in the U.S. who needs a Portuguese-speaking pastor as soon as possible.

When it doesn’t make sense: there is a youth group leader from the suburbs without a formal seminary education who has been a volunteer in their home church for 4 years. They have started seminary and the hoops feel annoying. There is no rush to get through the ordination process except the seminarian wants to be ordained and paid a liveable wage as soon as possible. There is no particular rush on the part of the congregation either but they are trying to be accomodating.

As a professional pastor whose worked with lots of seminarians and young pastors, I find it extremely valuable for people to have experience in serving a variety of contexts before ordination. They might assume that suburban ministry is where God is leading them because that’s the context they’ve always know. But if encouraged/required to serve in a rural church or in a hospital or in an urban church, they might discover that – actually – God is calling them to a different ministry than they previously imagined.

I could give you a dozen of examples of times I’ve watched God do this.

Is there a place for fast-tracking? Yes. Is is always a good idea? No.

What I’m finding – thanks be to God – is that some denominational governing bodies have become more permission-giving in terms of opening doors and windows for preparing leaders in ways that make sense for their particular situations. We need more of this. And we need to ensure that we aren’t just being lazy. When churches crash, the layers of damage are overwhelming.

At least in my denomination, clergy do not choose their own successors. Or at least we aren’t supposed to do that. I’ve seen pastors try and it almost always results in disaster. I’ve seen leaders act like bishops (although my denomination doesn’t have bishops) and make decisions “for the church” that congregations should make for themselves.

Nevertheless in these days of ongoing institutional shifts, I’m seeing a variety of plans as Baby Boomer Pastors – especially Pastors of large congregations – are retiring. Here are a few of those plans:

• The Pastor announces their retirement. A committee is chosen to seek a Transitional Pastor to serve in the gap between the retirement and the search and calling of the next Pastor.
• The Pastor announces their retirement and a committee is elected to choose the next Pastor who will join the current/retiring leader as a pair of Co-Pastors serving side by side until the retiring Pastor has their farewell party and then the new Co-Pastor becomes the Pastor.

There is no one right and healthy way to move from one leader to another leader in the same role. And yet there are a couple things to keep in mind to make it more likely that the church/organization we say we love thrives in the future.

• Remember that we won’t always be in this role. When we make ourselves indispensable, we aren’t doing anybody any favors.
• Please – for the love of God – equip other leaders to lead. I know congregations who barely know where the communion elements are much less how to set up The Lord’s Supper because the pastor or the pastor’s spouse or Miss Jenny who is 80+ years old has been doing it for decades. I know elders who have never been asked to pray out loud during meetings much less during worship services. I know congregations who can’t do anything without the pastor (or a member who is the de facto pastor) being present.
• Remember that every congregation is in transition NOW. If we’ve had the same leader for at least 10 years, many things have changed since that leader started. If we haven’t transitioned along the way, there will be an especially steep culture shift when a new leader begins. Imagine the shift if the pastor has been with us for 30 years. Yikes. (I see you, my congregational friends who’ve had the same leaders for over 40 years.)

These are tender issues. As all the generations await the stepping away of Baby Boomers (finally!) I myself am in this category of realizing that someone will succeed me in my role sooner than later. What are we doing to ensure that our congregations thrive? I know too many colleagues who are detached and really don’t seem to care what happens after they retire just so they get healthy pensions and a party that last Sunday. (Yes, that sounds harsh. Many of our oldest clergy are simply tired. It’s okay to leave.)

And it’s also holy and healthy to leave on a high note, having set up our congregations for success in the future. And success means more than an endowment and a sturdy building. How have we led our congregations to make an impact in our communities? How have people matured in faith during our service? How have we pointed to the future with a deep faith that knows God will lead us to ministry we cannot even imagine.

I write this today from Columbia Theological Seminary where several colleagues serving Presbyteries are getting to know the largest demographic on this campus now: immigrant students from Kenya and Madagascar and India and Syria and Pakistan and Tanzania and South Korea and Ghana and Liberia. These gifted leaders are among those who will lead our congregations in the future. How can we get ready to welcome them and let them be our successors?

Finally, don’t be a Logan Roy. Be a Victor Aloyo – or a leader like him.

As my friend AAM says “Every day’s a school day.” We learn more from failure than perfection, and in Church World we have so many possibilities for learning that we tend to miss.

Situation: We called a young pastor with babies and it didn’t work out. What did we learn?

• That we’ll never call a young pastor with babies ever again?
• That we need to look beyond our assumptions that “young pastors” will grow our church with other young families?
• That just because this pastor looked like someone we were seeking, we missed some red flags that had nothing to do with the fact that this pastor happened to be young with babies?

Situation: People are complaining that we don’t have Sunday School anymore. What did we learn?

• That this is surely somebody’s fault – probably the pastor’s?
• That we need to interpret more effectively to the congregation that our culture has shifted and while we don’t do 9:30 am Sunday School, we actually have more opportunities than ever for spiritual nurture and participation is pretty great?
• That our elders need to discern whether or not even they consider spiritual growth to be a priority in their own lives much less in congregational life?

Situation: There have been recent personnel shake-ups that have left the congregation anxious. What did we learn?

• That if we pretend those changes never happened, everything will be fine?
• That we really are “like a business”?
• That we need to have some Come to Jesus conversations about how we treat our staff?

Situation: Affordable housing is being considered for our church’s neighborhood and about half the church is “very concerned” to the point of protesting the plans at a City Council meeting. What did we learn?

• That our church is more divided than we realized?
• That we “don’t talk about politics” for this very reason?
• That we need to have conversations about what’s meant by affordable housing? (It could mean housing formerly unhoused people or it could mean housing nurses and teachers who can no longer afford to live in our zip code.) And we need to have conversations about what the Bible says about neighbors? And we need to look at our whole culture of mission. (Is it about sending checks to other continents or is it about building awareness and forming new relationships?)

I’m sort of – but not totally – surprised when churches so quickly move on after staff revisions, traumatic losses, financial shifts, demographic changes, and unexpected blows. I’ve worked with congregations who literally say “Let’s pretend like that never happened” after a church-splitting disagreement. I’ve worked with at least one church who elected a Pastor Search Committee the Sunday after their pastor dropped dead. I’ve known churches so conflict avoidant that they simply stopped talking to each other in meaningful ways. The come to church. They say “hello.” They worship. They go home.

There is something to learn in every situation. Usually it’s more than the decision to cast blame or shut down or leave. Growing pains usually hurt a little bit. But growing and learning offer so much possibility. So. Much. Possibility.

I almost called this post “When We Love Our Church So Much We Are Inadvertently Killing It.”

Every day of my life I hang out with people who love their church. ”Their church” is where they remember sitting in the pews as children. ”Their church” is where there are stained glass windows or pew cushions or baptismal fonts donated by their grandparents. ”Their church” is where they were baptized and married, where their parents’ and grandparents’ funerals were held. ”Their church” is about fond memories of Vacation Bible School and mission trips and choir.

Lent is just a week away and some of our congregations will gather for Ash Wednesday services where they might hear this traditional reading:

Isaiah 58:6-9 (The Message)
“This is the kind of fast day I’m after: to break the chains of injustice, get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed, cancel debts. What I’m interested in seeing you do is: sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes, putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad, being available to your own families. Do this and the lights will turn on, and your lives will turn around at once. Your righteousness will pave your way. The God of glory will secure your passage. Then when you pray, God will answer.
You’ll call out for help and I’ll say, ‘Here I am.’

The message (and The Message) are clear and yet – if we are honest – we just don’t want “our church” to be this kind of church.

There is a huge spiritual difference between identifying “my church” as

• The place of my ancestors and memories and power base and
• The community that serves together to break the chains of injustice, eliminate workplace exploitation, free the oppressed and cancel debts. The community that shares our food with the hungry, invites the homeless into our own homes, clothes the ill-clad and is always available to our own families in the name of Jesus.

Many of us (most of us?) just don’t want to that second part that Isaiah talks about.

Sometimes we have pastors who are on fire to step in and lead their congregations to be an Isaiah 58 congregation. But their congregations love “the church they’ve always been” and their pastors find themselves frustrated.

Sometimes we have church members who are on fire to shift their congregations from focusing on “getting new members” to being the kind of congregation described in Isaiah 58. But their pastors have no energy to learn how to lead that kind of church. And members leave in frustration.

Let’s get serious: what kind of church is “our church”? Many of you will say “we are both a church that treasures our tradition and reaches out into the community.” Maybe. But which is dominant?

The truth is that “our church” actually belongs to Jesus. How does “our church” look like Jesus and how does it not? This would be a good conversation to have during Lent.

Two year-olds are not always good at sharing. On our way to Montreat Conference Center when FBC was about two, he was holding a globe-of-the-world beach ball in his car seat while watching the scenery outside. ”My truck,” he said of the truck that we passed. ”My cows,” he said of the cows grazing in fields. And finally, “my world” as he held onto his beach ball. 

That’s about right for a two year old. Or anyone who acts like a two year old.

The possessive pronoun “my” factors into our spiritual lives on a regular basis. I often hear church people refer to “my congregation” or “my committee.” I hear pastors say “my organist” or “my elders.“ This could be a word that denotes affection or it could denote a subtle form of ownership.

I am currently reading Mark Elsdon’s book Gone for Good: Negotiating the Coming Wave of Church Property Transition and I cannot recommend it more enthusiastically. The notion of ownership impacts everything about Church World from who legally owns the church building to who is the de facto owner of the tea towels in the church parlor.

In the Presbytery I serve, there are more African American Presbyterians than in any other place in the world because of slavery. And in many cases – after Emancipation – the first land that former enslaved people owned was church property. 

And Mark Elsdon points out that . . .

Essentially all land that churches sit on in the United States was at one point home for Indigenous peoples. Jim Bear Jacobs, church leader and citizen of the Mohican Nation, traces the legacy of sin made manifest in the doctrine of discovery that remains in play today when churches buy and sell property (in Chapter Six.)

Imagine the confusion when native peoples who had lived on their property for generations watched European settlers plant flags on their homeland and proclaim that they now owned it. Spiritually speaking, most Indigenous peoples believed that only God could “own land.” How preposterous that men from Spain, France, and England simply showed up and claimed that their human kings and queens now owned it.

The congregations in our Presbytery gather on real estate once the homeland of the Waxhaw, Sugaree, and Catawba tribes. How about your church?

This week I’m thinking about how “owning it” negatively impacts what it means to Be The Church. Dissertations could be written about this phenomenon, but I hope to spark some ideas about how shifting what we believe about ownership might help us be more faithful. Stay tuned.