Clergy Care

Both Reverend Mommy and Reverend Stacey have written this past week about congregants' expectations of their clergy. For example, Rev. Stacey has been accused of focusing more on denominational business and her personal life than on her church.

Which has gotten me to wondering what I expect of the clergy at my church, and what might be reasonable to expect from clergy.

I probably should begin by saying that I am probably not a typical pew-sitter. I dated Elsie, a UMC minister, for a little over a year. Through her, I was given the opportunity to see life from the other side of the pulpit - so to speak. I am also very active in my church - I serve on the church board, and on a state-wide Christian Education Board. None of this makes me better than any other pew-sitter; it simply gives me a perspective another church member might not have.

It seems to me that when we talk about the expectations we have for a clergy person, we are talking about their job description. And because the clergy work for the church, understanding their job description involves understanding what the church's job is.

Several years ago, Deacon Gayle shared what she perceived to be the dominant models of a church today: either a lighthouse or an trauma ward.

Members of a lighthouse church have limited interaction with the outside world. The church serves as a beacon in a dark world. The best way to preserve that beacon is for the church to be as separate and distinct from the world as possible. The minister's primary function, as lighthouse keeper, is to preserve the tradition, and to shield the congregation from mundane concerns (e.g., heating bills, national or church politics, etc).

People who attend a trauma ward church are people who have been wounded in a variety of ways. Their wounds may be from life, or from experience in a different church. In this type of church, the minister is a sort of primary care physician who guides her parishioners to health. Ideally, these parishioners will then minister to in-coming wounded people, but this is often not the case. The woundedness of others can be over-whelming, and it's easy to perceive this sort of ministry as belonging solely to the ordained clergy.

Which leads me to a third model, a sort of ideal: the church as a sort of vo-tech for lay ministers. In this model, the minister's job would be to help lay people to discern their individual gifts (what the Apostle Paul calls chrisms), then to empower those lay people to exercise those gifts within the institutional church. As Paul says, some have the gift of preaching, some the gift of healing, and so on.

The tendency is for church members to expect their pastor to do it all. The minister is expected to be an excellent administrator, a superb worship leader, a compassionate listener, and so on. But the clergy person is a human being, limited in much the same ways as the members of her congregation. I believe it is healthiest for the ministry to be shared - as much as feasible and practical - among the whole congregation.

This notion of "shared ministry" is not new (e.g., Stephen Ministry); but it is not universally (or consistently) practiced.

If the minister's chief function is discernment and empowerment, as I suggest, what else might we reasonably expect from her?

It seems reasonable to seek the minister during significant life transitions - birth, marriage, loss of a loved one, and so on. It seems reasonable to seek one's minister when one is in crisis.

This second point is tricky - for how does one legitimately define "crisis"? After all, if it is happening to me, and I am in pain, it seems like the most important thing in the world at that moment. I would suggest a rule of thumb which, admittedly, requires a decree of honest detachment: if a friend called me at 2 a.m. with this problem, would I think it really was a crisis?

If my honest answer to that question is "no", then odds are that it is not a crisis, and it does not require the minister's immediate attention. This does not diminish the reality of my need or pain. It's still appropriate for me to call the minister during regular office hours to make an appointment to speak with her.

A common concern has to do with what might call superficial matters; that is, questions of worship style, candle placement, hymn choice (or tempo), and so on. You might miss the worship style of your former church. You might prefer the music to be slower, or faster, depending on your history or singing ability.

I don't recall that I have expressed this sort of concern to my minister. But I think it's appropriate to express your preferences. It seems to me a means of building a relationship with your minister. However, there is a difference between expressing a preference and complaining.

The bottom line is that your minister is a human being, and the Golden Rule applies as much to your minister as it does to the person sitting next to you. Respect your minister's time. Expect your minister to take care of herself. If a clergy person does not minister to herself, she will eventually lose the ability to minister to her church members.

In the shared ministry model, you are called to minister to your pastor in a way similar to how she ministers to you. You minister to her by respecting her time, and empowering her to take care of herself (e.g., required vacations and/or paid sabbaticals).