A Church for Starving Artists

Years ago, a colleague whom I greatly admire was thriving as the new pastor of an historic church.  When receiving accolades from other pastors, he responded this way:  “It’s not me.  People are just beginning to realize what the church could be.”

One of the most memorable snippets from Rob Bell’s Velvet Elvis is the story from pre-Mars Hill days when he and a few friends sat around and talked about What The Church Could Be.  You can listen to Rob Bell’s last sermon A Letter to Mars Hill here.  Or you can read it here.

I can’t write anything as profound as this last sermon.  But in a nutshell, as he looked out upon that congregation, and saw An Idea That Had Come to Life.

Last weekend, I had the privilege of hanging out with people who are preparing to be professional pastors.  Three of those people stayed after everyone else had left because they wanted to talk with me about What the Church Could Be.  I have appointments in the next weeks from others who were there who want to sit  in a coffee shop and dream about What the Church Could Be.

This is the future of the church.  It’s always been the future of the church.  From the first Pentecost after the first Easter, we’ve received glimpses of What the Church Could Be.  This is what keeps me in the institutional church.

Jesus came to show us What the Church Could Be.  It’s our reason to live.  It’s everlastingly interesting.

Church Friend #1:  Since our pastor retired, our worship numbers are down
significantly.  We didn’t realize how many people came just to hear him preach.  And then they went to brunch.

Church Friend #2:  That’s not really church, you know.

Many of us have participated in Destination Worship to hear a great preacher preach.   A friend just told me over the weekend that she would be visiting Texas for Christmas and while she’s in Houston she will definitely go hear Joel Osteen.  Because he’s Joel Osteen.  (Maybe not everyone’s idea of a Great Preacher but we’d all agree he is a famous preacher.)

I’ve traveled to Grandville, MI to hear Rob Bell preach.  I’ve made several pilgrimages to hear BBT.  I’ve made special efforts to hear other fine preachers deliver God’s Word.  My faith has been impacted by their teaching and I have a richer understanding of scripture from those sermons.  But I can’t say that my experience was truly “church.”

My friend Steve Knight wrote earlier this month about Participatory Church.   For generations, many of us believed that being a Christian meant spending Sunday mornings in a church sanctuary, sitting in a chair or pew, hearing a sermon and then going home  (or to brunch) comforted or smarter or stirred spiritually.  And that’s that.

Jesus taught something completely different.

It’s easy to go hear a fine sermon and then return home and forget about it until next week.  It’s easy to go get a shot of inspiration and then continue life as usual.  But being a church together, being The Body of Christ together involves a commitment, relationships, a change of perspective and priorities.  Way harder.

Advent is often about theatre and pageantry in the institutional church.  Concerts and “special music” fill those weeks before Christmas.  Consider The Church Christmas Pageant.

Who doesn’t love a Christmas Pageant?  The kids are cute.  The pews are full. The story is familiar.  It creates happy memories and brings people together.  What’s not to love?

My hope is that this perennial favorite is more than a sentimental exercise.  I hope it touches souls and points us to something holy and beautiful.  But to be honest, sentimentality often wins.  We prefer easy worship.  We go.  We hear and watch.  We come away spiritually moved or entertained or informed.

But that’s not what it means to be the church together.  Jesus asks for more.

Overheard recently in church:

“I would like to take that call (to serve a small church) but I have two teenagers and just can’t afford it.”

“My daughter-in-law is a AME pastor but she’s switching to United Methodist because they have better benefits.”

“I would leave the PCUSA and start a non-affiliated church but I need the pension and health insurance.”

“I’ll need to earn at least $100,000 a year in my next call.”

Professional ministry is supposed to be about a call from God.  I personally and theologically believe that all work is ministry and all ministry is about a spiritual calling, but for the purposes of this post, I’m only talking  about professional pastors here.

Part of my work includes working with seminarians hoping to be called to serve the church as a vocation.  They have visions and dreams for the kind of congregations God is calling them to lead.  They are increasingly being told that there are more clergy looking for parish positions than there are positions.  In my denomination – as of last Friday at 10:53 am Central Time – there were 382 candidates looking for their first call and there were 134 church positions open for people seeking a first call.

Seminarians are being told that bi-vocational or tent making ministry will likely be in their future.  In other words, they may be called by churches that can’t afford to pay them a full-time salary, so they would be wise to hone their barrista skills or get their teaching certification.  Several pastors I know serve congregations part-time and then supplement their incomes by serving also as hospital chaplains or pastoral counselors, nurses or retail salespeople, graphic designers or bank tellers.

We might fully and faithfully embody Matthew 6:34.  We might  channel our inner Scarlett O’Hara – an “I’ll think about that tomorrow” theology.  We might romanticize poverty only to find that when our kids need braces, our hearts break because it’s not going to happen.

We might have a spouse who earns a substantial income which frees us up to earn $20,000 a year and still own a car and live in a comfortable home.

So, here’s my question:  Is a Call to Ministry Ever About Money?  Does God only call us to serve in ministry positions we can “afford”?  Does God use our financial struggles to teach us or break us or make us more faithful?  What do you think?  What do you believe?

Post-Publish Note:  I just got this from Louisville this morning (12-19-11.)

You know the drill:

Sometime just before or after Thanksgiving – or if your congregation is on top of things in September – letters go out to church members and friends asking for their next year’s financial pledge.  The letters might be accompanied by pie charts and wish lists.  Perhaps there are “lead gifts” pledged by the church officers or the “big givers.”  Perhaps there is a large donor who expects a special visit from the pastor or financial chairperson for the “ask.”

In this economy, there is usually not enough pledged to pay for next year’s budget.  And maybe the congregation will be entering 2012 with a shortfall from 2011.  Budgetary shortfalls are the norm for our congregations.

There’s an old story about a roomful of elders wringing their hands about their church’s financial problems when one elder says, “If only someone would die and leave us everything we need” to which the pastor says, “Actually, don’t we believe that Somebody already did that?”  (Get it?)

I believe that Stewardship Campaigns are part of the problem.  They are dated, often faithless exercises in administration.  God calls us to something different.

I’m a big fan of The Relational Tithe although this is a totally foreign concept for most institutional church congregations.   The church at its best exemplifies this kind of care.    I’ve known churches that covered someone’s mortgage for a year during a family crisis – and by “churches” I’m not talking about church budgets; I’m talking about individuals who happen to be part of the same spiritual congregation.  I’ve known church people who’ve covered medical bills, car repair bills, utilities for church friends in need.  These are the same kind of churches that generously volunteer to divide up a week and take turns staying overnight with a sick member or offering free childcare for families in need.

Yes, institutional churches usually have utility bills, personnel costs, and other administrative commitments to keep things going.  I know one congregation whose members commit a large percentage of their income to cover these costs and then make relational tithes of time and money for personal needs within the congregation.  No “stewardship campaign” is needed.  Instead, there is an honest conversation about the needs and hopes of the congregation.

I believe we prefer those standard letters going out, rather than frank conversations about our own personal finances – what we can give, what we need.  In a culture where many of us will openly discuss our sex lives, our addictions, our family histories,  we are mortified for people to know how much money we make, how much money we spend, how much money we owe.  I am personally not so comfortable with this either, but – with people I trust in my faith community – I have been known to share.

We who have grown up in the institutional church know that we church people don’t generally share our sins and failings easily, if we share them at all.  Church is still – for many – a place where appearances are everything.  We pass the peace and tell people that things are “fine.”  What would happen if we could truly share with at least one person in the congregation that we can’t pay our water bill this month, or we are depressed, or we are about to lose our jobs, or we had a fight with our spouse – and we need their prayers and support.

Sometimes that support involves financial help.  This kind of personal connection is what Jesus was talking about when he faced the rich young ruler about his willingness to give up everything.  But we are much more comfortable receiving a standardized letter.

Image source.

Almost 30 years ago, I was a 20-something pastor in the PCUSA.

I graduated from seminary with $30K in debt and a desire to serve wherever God sent me.  My family included only a black lab,  so I could move anywhere.  Although I was basically a city person, most of the interesting city church positions were – at least in my perception – the domain of young male colleagues who had been specially groomed to climb The Ladder.

I was called to serve a little church in a little town.  Another clergywoman in that Presbytery helpfully commented to me that those tiny rural churches had such low self-esteem that they would even take us women.  But I loved that church in a tiny village  and I think they loved me.  My salary was $9000 a year for a FT position (and it grew to $16,000 after a few years.)   Note again my seminary debt and do that math.

Today’s young pastor graduates with even more debt – most likely – and they are probably  better at math than I was.  Those with true calls may opt out of professional ministry even before they begin or they might give parish ministry a try and find that:

1) while the minimum clergy salaries (and they will be paid the minimum right out of seminary) are much higher today, they will earn much less than others their age with professional graduate degrees

2) they might not care about making big money, but they don’t want to default on their loans either, and they will need enough money to live a simple life

3) they might find that the loneliness, the frustrations, and the hours are too difficult to continue in parish ministry.

Three years after my ordination, my denomination gathered other pastors who’d been ordained the same year I’d been ordained.  They’d found that many Young Pastors leave professional ministry by the fifth year, and so – all over the country –  there were Young Pastors meeting 3, 4, and 5 years after ordination to prepare for our next call and find companionship.  Many of us were happily serving our churches.  Many were also exhausted and Sabbath-challenged.

Sadly, the denomination discontinued this program at least 15 years ago for lack of funding.

Young pastors today tell me that – while there are indeed openings out there . . .

• many of them are in rural towns (and they have spouses who need to find work so larger towns and cities are their only option)
• many positions are part-time which require an additional part-time job to make ends meet
• many positions are with congregations that do not want to be 21st Century churches (although they might declare that they want to grow, change, etc.)

Our denomination collects The Joy Offering each December to benefit church
workers with financial needs.  Many of these gifts go to older pastors who find themselves struggling with too little financial support in their post-parish years.  Especially in this economy, many of us could find ourselves in need of financial help post-retirement even into the next decade or so.

My friend Carol Howard Merritt wrote recently about the The Young Clergy Crisis and I totally agree that many of my under 40 friends are struggling at least as much as some of my over 70 friends.

Older clergy have obviously paid off their seminary loans but are trying to figure out how to afford to retire, or even how to pay off their mortgages.  Younger clergy – many of whom started as associate pastors  –  find that associate pastor positions have been eliminated.  And tiny churches can’t afford FT pastors.

[Note: Tomorrow’s Question of the Day will be about our youngest pastors.]

In my own blessed 50-something demographic, I find myself doing ministry that  includes:

• Helping congregations in search of pastors and
• Helping pastors in search of church positions.

It makes me happy to be the matchmaker, although the Holy Spirit is obviously in charge.

Several pastors seeking paid positions in the church are over age 65.  Maybe they still have mortgages, or maybe they’ve used their savings to help their children, or maybe they’ve depleted their savings to pay medical bills.  Several of those who come through my door have sick spouses who haven’t been  earning a paycheck themselves for many years and things have been tight for a long time.

Yes, we have tiny churches who basically want a chaplain and they might hire an 80 year old pastor.  But more often, congregations want a high-energy pastor who will bring fresh ideas.  I know some high-energy pastors over the age of 70 – don’t get me wrong.  But I worry that their inability to retire is taking work from younger clergy.

And this is not just an issue for the septuagenarian and older crowd.  We all know pastors in their 50s and 60s who find themselves holding onto church positions even though their energy is low, their technological skills are dated, and their leadership gifts are a bit Old School.  But they can’t afford to retire quite yet.  Maybe they won’t be able to retire for another couple of decades.

So, what do we do about this?  As our society is growing older and living longer, I wish I had answers.  Any ideas?

I asked this question over the weekend:

Is there a way to keep congregations from congratulating themselves for their assorted Mission Projects – especially in the holiday season – when the giving is sometimes (often?) for themselves?

Several years ago, I delivered the gloves, socks, and mittens to our local shelter which had adorned our “Giving Tree” in the church parlor.  People had bedecked the tree with cute pink acrylic gloves and packages of Costco socks.  Not many fleece-lined men’s sizes really, but lots of children’s items.  When I got to the shelter and was guided to the Donations Room, I saw that it was already full.  “Yeah, the donations have far outpaced our need,” the volunteer shared.  “Most of these items were given last year. Too many people buy cheap, child-sized gloves and  socks without realizing that most of our residents are large adult men who need heavy-duty socks and gloves.”

Why don’t donors know this?  Because we haven’t asked.  We like to leap in to help without understanding exactly what is needed.

Several Advents ago, we decided to collect gift cards for those in need rather than buy them presents.  You know the usual drill:  notes on trees or bulletin boards say something like, “8 Year Old Girl.  Size Medium.  Likes Dolls.”  And then someone collects all the presents for The Needy Family and delivers them.  The problem with this begins with humiliation and ends with gifts that don’t fit the recipient – and not only in terms of  sizing.  Imagine that you are a parent that aches over the fact that you can’t afford to replace your child’s too-small shoes, and then strangers come in and Help You.  Yes, your daughter likes dolls, but she likes fashion dolls, not baby dolls – which is what has  been lovingly bought and wrapped for her because a kind church person imagined the dolls she might have liked long ago.

But this is not about what the kind church person wants.  This is about the people who have less than what they need.  This is not about congratulating ourselves on finding a deal on a woman’s sweater for A Needy Person that might not fit that woman’s body or style.

Yes, even homeless people get to have style.  Those who are struggling financially get to have dignity.

Sharing gift cards allows struggling parents to choose their own children’s gifts.  They know what their kids want and need. And then they get to bring those gifts home – whether home is a shelter, a small apartment, or a car.  (Note:  It’s important to use our brains when we give gift cards.  Chain restaurant gift cards might be appreciated.  A person living in a car would probably appreciate gas station cards.  Target and Grocery Store gift cards are always good.  Wii and Blockbuster cards are probably not so helpful if you live on the street.)

This article says more about wanting to help people but not understanding how to do it well.
“Gift cards are impersonal!” we say, but most of us have impersonal relationships with The Needy.  We don’t personally know them, so why pretend we do?  Or better still:  Have a personal relationship with a poor person. Truly be friends.  Walk alongside them.  Make their poverty your own.  This would be the genuinely God-like way to spend Christmas.   It’s what God did.

Thanks to BSE for this image and to the B52s for putting a tune in our heads.

I haven’t written a blog post in over a week – except for the ones in my head – because the days have been long and when I get home at night I honestly want to curl up with a glass of wine and watch Revenge.  There, I said it.

 At the risk of regurgitating Every Big Idea that’s run through my mind, here are some of my Questions of the Week:

• What happens when a pastor no longer believes in God?  Or what if he/she believes in God but theology has become so mysterious that articulating clear doctrines of faith seems almost idolatrous?
• What happens when dying churches refuse to let go?  Do you just come in and shout, “Enough!”
• How can we get churches to stop having Stewardship Campaigns and start talking about faith and money?
• What do we do for older pastors who still have mortgages and can’t retire?
• Is there a way to keep congregations from congratulating themselves for their assorted Mission Projects – especially in the holiday season – when the giving is sometimes (often?) for themselves?

 These are some of the questions I ask after some busy days in one middle judicatory of the institutional church.

Note:  All of us serving in professional ministry will leave our current call – either by our own death, the death of the church, firing, or moving to a new call.  It’s good to prepare for this.

I’m a fan of Exit Interviews.  It’s essential – and fun – to reflect on what worked, what didn’t work, what mistakes were made. 

I never had an exit interview after 22 years in the church I loved,  but it wasn’t because we didn’t try.  The schedules were tight and then I moved to Illinois.  That’s just how it went.

I was part of the exit interview this past week for a wise and accomplished pastor in the PCUSA.  We talked about what worked, what didn’t work, and what mistakes were made.  We pondered his and the congregation’s future.  We remembered that – in his first years following a long-term pastor – it’s wasn’t easy.  And it won’t be easy for the pastor that follows him.

And then we asked him to sign a covenent saying – among other things – that

• he would not officiate at wedding, funerals, and baptisms after his retirement
• he would not offer pastoral care to the congregation after his retirement
• he would maintain friendships but not engage in conversations that involve congregational matters after he retires.

It was not easy for him to sign this covenant.  In fact, he seemed a little miffed.

It’s come to this:  that we have to sign agreements NOT to serve our former congregations.  This particular pastor admitted that it would rip him up inside to know that a former parishioner had died, was suffering, enjoyed a divine victory and he would not be able to respond.

I totally get this.

The spouse of one of my former parishioners died suddenly this week and I am a bit of a wreck.  The church is in very good hands.  The grieving family is in very good hands.  But it rips me up inside not to be able to comfort the widow and her children.  I baptized one of their kids.  The other was in confirmation with my own children.  It’s not easy, but it’s the right thing to do in terms of that congregation learning how to love and follow a new leader.

I feel for the retired pastor whose spouse and children have not retired.  I feel for the pastor who – after 20+ years in a community – retires and suddenly has no faith community.  I feel for the congregation that still feels connected to their last pastor. 

In a healthy church, everybody is a grownup and relationships remain unimpaired.  But it’s important to maintain good boundaries, and especially to remember that the church is not about the pastor.  It’s about Jesus.

And so we feel sorrow and we grieve former relationships.  But – after new relationships have been nurtured and solidified – old friends can once again share good memories of a ministry that brought goodness and growth.  At least, this is my hope.

When I was a child, our church building was My Third Place after home and school.  I was in that building every Sunday morning for about three hours and again in the evening for youth group or confirmation.  In the summers I was there for camp and Vacation Bible School.  I loved the playground.  I loved the front yard.  Eventually my wedding pictures were taken there.

These days, living in a new time zone, I’m still in search of my Third Place – the place where I’ll spend most of my time after home and the office.  I really miss not having that familiar hangout where people know my name and I can sit and stare into space or write or have casual conversations.  I miss Busboys.  I miss the staff of the Shirlington Caribou.  I miss my secret Starbucks hideout in Georgetown.  I will find my Third Place; I just haven’t found it yet.

Sociologist Ray Oldenburg coined the term “Third Place” in his book The Great Good Place: Cafes, Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Bars, Hair Salons, and Other Hangouts at the Heart of a Community.  While there are still communities in the United States where a church building is still the Third Place for the majority of the townspeople, others find more community in neighborhood barber shops or cozy breweries or local gyms. 

We who love the church and grew up in the church must remember that, increasingly, we are the minority.  Many people not only did not grow up in a church, but it would not occur to them to walk through sanctuary doors in search of community.  Many of us church people are in denial about this. 

I always marvel at the outdoor banners that churches post to advertise their carol sings and chili dinners, hoping that strangers will join them.  At least in the congregation I once served, it was rare –  if ever – that a stranger joined us unless he/she was the guest of a member.  Most people walking from the bus stop to the Starbucks down the block would never consider coming inside to check out what was going on in our church building.  And it wasn’t because we didn’t try.  It’s just that a church building  is not the first place some of our brothers and sisters would expect authentic fellowship.

For a long time now, my heart has yearned for those people who are Not Yet With Us.   I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about them.  They are spiritual souls in search of peace and redemption and purpose.  But they are in coffee shops, soccer fields, or shopping malls on Sunday mornings.  And so – like Jesus – we go to them. 

One of the considerations for the 21st Century Church – like the First Century Church – is that we must be missional  – out in the world in those Third Places.  Or maybe we can create Third Places that are new gathering places for the church.  Many of our newest seminary graduates are ready to serve in these venues, and I – for one – long for th0se venues too.