I'm really proud of my mom.

For a long time she has been feeling restless in her congregation. She greatly respects the pastors. She feels seen and loved by her fellow members. But a primary reason she joined this church was because my dad, who died a year and a half ago, was comfortable there. Now he's gone, and the theology and worship style don't fit her. She knows everyone there approaches her as a widow, which she is, but she's a very active one who doesn't want to be reminded constantly of her loss.

So Mom has been visiting around, and she thinks she's found her place. Having ministers for a son-in-law and daughter, though, she knew she shouldn't ghost her former congregation. She texted one of the pastors and asked to meet with him. Here's what she said during that conversation:

She gave thanks for the gifts of the ministers and the church's care for her. These pastors were so attentive to her and to my dad during some really rough years. Their support was essential, and she told them so.

She explained why she was leaving. It had nothing to do with conflict, and it was a hard decision. But she worships best through traditional hymns. She is more able to engage in Bible study with a particular theological bent. This congregation doesn't offer either.

She noted that she even though the congregation was no longer a fit for her, she celebrated that it was a great fit for others. It's wonderful that some people experience Jesus through praise hymns! Everybody worships differently.

She asked the pastor what she should do about her church responsibilities. She doesn't have major leadership responsibilities, but she does have some congregational care commitments. She didn't want to leave anyone in the lurch.

I thought this was a very healthy approach. For the record, I am the proud of the pastor too, who was my pastor when I was a youth. He told Mom that he wants her to find the church where she can heal and worship and grow, wherever that might be. Then he blessed her on her way. I think all ministers, at our best, can pastor people in this way as they leave our direct care.

These are the kinds of conversations that ministers and church members need to have. So many laypeople drift away, knowing they need something different for their current season of life but not wanting to hurt their pastors' feelings. But here's the truth: uncertainty and ghosting are much more painful for ministers than honesty and vulnerability. And departing laypeople don't get the closure they need to be able to get deeply involved in a new faith community.

I want to encourage both pastors and members to be open to - even to invite - some discomfort for everyone's benefit. Then each party can authenticity bless the other for the diverged journey to come.

Photo by Junseong Lee on Unsplash.

I have previously written about how much Tricia Hersey’s book Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto has spoken to me. (Here is the list of simple rest practices I developed for Lent after I read it.) This rest is faithful. It is what we need for our own wellbeing. And it is a tool for liberation. Last week I expanded on these thoughts with a piece at Baptist News Global. Click here to read “The rest we must have.”

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash.

I am currently working with a congregation that is just beyond the redevelopment stage. The leaders are building and revamping organizational pieces that will allow the church to move from all of the responsibility falling to the pastor and to SuperVolunteers toward a more equitable and sustainable distribution of efforts. Because it can be hard to zoom out when you’re in the thick of the details, I created the graphic above to help the leaders see the importance of each aspect of the systemic work they’re doing:

• This congregation identified its values and vision as part of a discernment process a couple of years ago. Being clear about commitments and direction provides a strong foundation for all a congregation does and a touchstone for focusing efforts.

• Core documents such as by-laws make the values and vision functional: here is how we go about our church life because we have named these commitments toward this hope for our future.

• The by-laws set the leadership structure that carries out the various processes and procedures laid out in the by-laws.

• The leadership structure decides how to make faithful use of the many tangible and intangible gifts to which the congregation has access.

• The leadership’s use of gifts supports the day-to-day operations of the church.

• Smooth operations make it possible for the congregation to live into God’s invitations to ministry.

So, then, we can be much more effective if we’re clear about what our biggest commitments are and stay grounded in them at all times. By-laws are not just an irrelevant document that we maintain for legal reasons. Leadership must assess regularly and most effectively deploy its resources, which are much more than money and facilities. Ministry and operations are designed to support and speak to, not compete with, each other.

What questions or thoughts does this graphic prompt for you? How are the various levels in this image in conversation with one another in your context? Where is more communication needed? And how do you start that ball rolling?

Recently I read Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto by Tricia Hersey, who is popularly known as the Nap Bishop. Hersey makes the case that all of us are caught up in grind culture, which is a hyperfocus on productivity around which our entire lives are oriented. Grind culture feeds and feeds on many modes of dehumanization: white supremacy, patriarchy, ableism, individualism, and more. It makes us think that we are what we produce. It causes us to see rest as a reward that we can only claim when we have worn ourselves down to a nub. It keeps us stepping on one another to get ahead. And it is killing us physically (as seen by our collective sleep deficit) as well as mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.

Hersey says that our response to grind culture’s demands that we do more must be to rest. Rest includes but is not limited to sleep. It can be anything that helps us slow down, replenish, and reconnect with ourselves, one another, and God. It can be lengthy, but it can also be a series of shorter breaks. I often hear from coachees that they struggle to find time for rest. That is largely because of the overlapping issues named above, and it is partly the result of grind culture’s drain on our creativity. It’s hard to come up with ways to rest that fit the moment when we are already so very tired.

With that in mind, I have developed a list of practices that offer rest. I stopped at 40 because that is the number of days in Lent, not counting Sundays. If you choose, you can take on a rest practice each day as a Lenten observance. Let me be clear, though, that I don’t intend these practices as 40 more to-dos to pile on your already-full plate. (That would defeat the purpose!) They are intended simply to give you ideas for some easily accessible breaks if you don’t have the mental space to come up with a means to get some much-needed rest. Click here to download the list. Feel free to print and/or share it.

Stay tuned for an article that elaborates on how rest doesn’t just cause us to feel better and more present but also equips us to push back on dehumanizing forces.

I am hearing - across denominations, locations, and church sizes - that it is increasingly hard to find an interim pastor to lead congregations in between settled ministers. So what is a church to do? Click here to read my suggestions on the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship blog.

Photo by Suad Kamardeen on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters U-Z. (See A-E here, F-J here, K-O here, and P-T here.)

Unity. I don’t mean politeness or agreement about things that, in the long run, don’t really matter. I’m talking about the kind of unity that is rooted in shared purpose. I’m talking about hanging in there with one another, even when there are hard conversations to be had and conflict to work through, because we are following God’s two greatest commandments (Mark 12:28-31) - not our own disparate agendas - to the best of our understanding and ability.

Values. Over the past few years I have really come to appreciate the exercise of identifying our core values, the foundational commitments that we are living into (individually and/or collectively) when we are intentional and authentic. When the pandemic hit, these values - if we were clear on them - became the touchstones. Nothing looked or operated the same with Church, but if we were operating out of our values, we were doing faithful ministry. In this time of ongoing change, values will continue to tether us to our purpose and allow the Church to have far-reaching impact.

Wonder. The life of faith is one of wonder, not just in the sense of wonder-ing or questioning, but also of awe. Isn’t it remarkable what God can do in, around, and through us? Small things, immeasurable things, and everything in between. Isn’t it unfathomable how deeply God loves us? Enough to send Jesus into the world in as vulnerable state as I could imagine - a newborn, birthed by a young mother, delivered far from home, hunted by a jealous king. What might be possible for us as Church if we fully inhabited that wonder?

(E)Xperiments. Now is not the time to spring back into all the church programs you did in The Before. It is also probably not the time to latch onto big, long-term commitments as a congregation. Instead, try something new, preferably small and time-bound, that seems like it aligns with your mission and for which you have some energy and willing participants. Then debrief and learn from it, applying what you now know either to try it again or to attempt something else that might be an even better fit with a more fruitful outcome. There is no fail here. It’s all fodder for discernment.

Yearning. Church shouldn’t be rote. It shouldn’t be mere obligation. It should be a community that speaks to our deepest longings, whether that’s to connect with our Creator, be seen and valued, to find true companions for the spiritual journey, and/or to band together with people as committed to making change in the world as we are. How are we as Church nurturing and speaking to that yearning in all that we do?

Zeroed-in focus. I think Covid broke congregations of the desire to be all things to all people, or at least I hope it did. Our church doesn’t have to offer a thing just because the congregation down the street does. (There are different churches, not to mention denominations, for a reason.) I’d love to see congregations take a good look at what they have, what they do well, and who is around them, then figure out what they want to do and how they want to show up for others. God can work with that!

I hope this alphabet series has offered some food for thought in a time of continued upheaval. I have great hope in the Church, and it’s time for the Church to reorient from being an unquestioned part of many people’s lives to living and speaking faithfully closer to the margins. That’s where Jesus operated, and it’s where we can both make big change and be changed ourselves.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters P-T. (See A-E here, F-J here, and K-O here.)

Practices. Doing is more powerful than telling. Educators know this. It’s why they get their students to put new knowledge to work, so that it will become part of them, so that they’ll have access to it when they need it most. What are the practices in your congregation - both in and beyond worship - and how are they shaping people? Where do your church folks sense permission to try different ways of putting faith into action? What rituals do you need but not yet have to support emerging disciples? Our practices as a congregation either deepen our expressed values and beliefs or undermine them.

Questions. I have - and have always had - a lot of questions. As a teenager I refused to walk the aisle and request baptism until I found a church that would welcome my wonderings. I know I’m not alone. After all, we live in a world of mass violence, a crumbling ecosystem, and structural inequities, all of which deny various expressions of the image of God in the good world that God made. Church is the very best place to ask big questions and think on them together about how to live in spite of (informed by?) all we don’t understand. God can hold our questions, and yes, our doubts.

Responsiveness. Speaking of the world’s ills, the Church can be neither silent about them nor inactive in partnering with God on solutions to them. It’s not the job of an individual congregation to put a lot of energy toward solving them all. That’s a recipe for burnout. But it is the job of each church to pick one or two areas in which their faith enacted could make a dent in those problems. Congregations cannot be self-contained entities in which folks come for Sunday morning reassurance, then leave feeling unbothered or powerless to impact their wider communities.

Storytelling. We are people of story. Our story starts with God turning on the world’s lights and giving us life. It continues across generations and centuries, and still it goes on. The Church needs to tell that story, weird and disturbing parts and all. (Those weird parts are a big part of what draws me in to hear the rest of the story!) And, the Church also needs to do a couple of other things: listen deeply to people’s beautifully diverse narratives and help them connect their stories to God’s sweeping epic.

Truthtelling. Related to questions, responsiveness, and storytelling, we as the Church need to speak the truth in love. We don’t have all the answers. There’s a lot of work to do for God’s will to be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Life can be hard and wonderful, sometimes at the same time. Let’s lead with that and invite people to join us as we sit with all of the messiness and figure out how to move forward together, with the inspiration and courage of the Holy Spirit.

Next week: letters U-Z.

Photo by Robert Stump on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters K-O. (See A-E here and F-J here.)

Kin. In church we often talk about being a family. That characterization can be rooted in an idealized version of family in which we love one another unconditionally. It can also be a bit insular, though. Have you ever joined a family, such as through marriage, and wondered if your presence was really wanted? There are insider jokes and stories and traditions that feel strange and come with little explanation, often because the family you’ve come into doesn’t realize how unique those cultural pieces are. “Kin,” though, has a different connotation for me. The term kin is sprawling. It’s not just those we interact with every day or even just on Sundays and holidays. It is all the people we are connected with - which, ultimately, is all the people on Earth. It implies some responsibility to one another. If we are kin, we bring people in. We help each other out. There are so many ways congregations can emphasize this message.

Listening. The Church that is increasingly irrelevant is focused on telling people exactly what God says and what everyone should do. The life of faith is not that simple. We come to belief through a myriad of backgrounds and experiences, and we interpret scripture based on them. What I think is more important to faith formation than telling, then, is listening. How do we teach people to hear the voice of God? How can we show the love of God to others through offering the gifts of our time and attention? What might we help people hear about the presence and work of God in their lives by witnessing their stories and reflecting on them together? What might we ourselves be changed through narratives different than our own?

Meaning-making. There is so much in the world that is hard and confusing. As Church we must be ready to help people make sense of it. We don’t necessarily have the answers, but we can provide a way of thinking about all that is happening and encourage those in our care to find their place, their agency, in it. We have some choices, and those options can be identified and refined through the lens of our faith.

Noticing. One of my favorite questions to start a group gathering is, “Where have you seen God at work lately?” I am always awed by the responses, which can be small notes of gratitude or retellings of big happenings in which God could just as well be shouting “HERE I AM” through a megaphone. Noticing is key to discernment, a faith-rooted way of making decisions. Church is a great place to cultivate that noticing. It shouldn’t just be for occurrences, though. It should also be for really looking for and seeing the image of God in God’s people - whomever, whenever, wherever. Just think how different the world would be if everyone noticed God and the work of God in all times and places!

Openness. This is a hospitality of the heart and mind. It is a willingness to consider new ideas and perspectives and try new things, and to know and be known by the people who introduce you to them. It is the ability to admit wrongdoing and make substantive changes. It is a doing better once you know better, as Maya Angelou said. Sometimes it is simply letting ourselves delight or giving ourselves permission not to know everything. (Doesn’t that sound like a relief?) How might our congregations help us nurture this hospitality, which is a big theme in scripture?

Next week: letters P-T.

Photo by Surendran MP on Unsplash.

“Back in the 1990s, when I was a teenager, youth ministry was relatively straightforward. My peers and I met for junior high and high school Sunday school and then attended worship. We came back on Sunday evenings for a less formal worship service and youth group (which often involved outings such as laser tag, mini golf or a scavenger hunt, plus the requisite pizza dinner) and on Wednesday nights for churchwide supper and seventh -12th grade Bible study. The youth schedule largely aligned with the adult schedule, and attendance was pretty consistent week-to-week and across Sunday mornings and evenings and Wednesday nights. 

This is no longer the world in which we live. Extracurricular activities associated with school spill over into all the times formerly considered off-limits for non-church obligations. The definition of regular church attendance has changed rapidly – and continues to morph –  as much social, academic and work life is lived online more so than in-person. For all of these reasons and more, the model of youth ministry must also evolve.” Click here to continue reading this article on the CBF blog.

Photo by James Baldwin on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters F-J. (See A-E here.)

Flexibility. The pandemic taught us that we can never anticipate everything, which is both scary and exhilarating. It also showed us that we have more ability to adapt than we believed possible. We need to stop trying to exert so much control and let the Holy Spirit do her thing! What might be possible if we let things be a little messy? How might God show up if we opened the floor to more voices and experiences and ideas? I’m eager to find out.

Genuineness. Psst. Here’s an open secret: one of the reasons fewer people are coming to church - or attending less often - is because they want to show up as themselves, without a facade, among other people who are also being real. Gone are the days when everybody puts on their best faces on Sunday mornings. What most are seeking is a way to connect their faith and their questions with their daily lives. Make your congregation a safe place to do that.

Hope. Optimism, which I define as an “everything’s gonna be all right” attitude, is hard to come by these days. Hope, though, is necessary for getting from one day to the next. It is available to us because of the promise of God’s presence and because hope is rooted in what we do in the face of uncertainty and pain. Faith communities can equip people for both aspects of hope, helping us look for where God is at work and equipping us respond to the world’s challenges.

Interdependence. One of the gifts and challenges of the pandemic is that everyone needed care. I think that humanized even the most self-sufficient and stoic of us (I’m talking to myself here as an Enneagram 5!) to others and even to our own selves. We are designed for interdependence. God doesn’t want us to try to make it on our own. The Church must continue to encourage vulnerability and mutual care, and not just among the people in the pews. So many who reside at or walk past the edge of our property both need our care and have so much to offer to us, if we will have ears to hear.

Joy. I am 100% convinced that the congregations that weathered Covid-19 the best put an emphasis on playing together, finding new ways to do that in a time of physical distancing. God created our world and called it good. God gave us one another so that we would know the joy of companionship. Jesus was a guy who knew how to have fun in between his more serious moments of teaching and healing. Church must be a place that people look forward to going to, not because they are entertained, but because they find something there that opens them to delight even as they acknowledge that life can be hard.

Next week: letters K-O.

Photo by Jason Dent on Unsplash.

Even before the pandemic, I, like many of you, had begun thinking about how the Church needs to shift in order to be Christ’s body in the world. The twenty-first century has offered Jesus followers new awareness around individual and collective power (both having and lacking it), big questions to ask and challenges to overcome, and an increased number of tools for connecting with and on behalf of others. Covid-19 stripped us down to the studs, allowing us to see what is essential in a faith community. And now we as the body of Christ are moving through lingering exhaustion, fighting an illness that keeps popping back up (though thankfully with more ways to mitigate it now), and wondering which way to go next.

I don’t think any of us has answers about specific models of church. I know I don’t. But I think the characteristics of a flourishing church in 2023 are coming into focus. This month I will be sharing my thoughts on them via an alphabet of the evolving Church.

This week: letters A-E.

Accessibility. This is about equity, which involves providing well thought-through accommodations to those with various needs (e.g., mobility, sensory) so that they can participate fully in congregational life. It is also about being very intentional in the welcome of newcomers, who might be joining onsite or online, who might not know a soul in your community, who might have not been in a church since the day they were deeply wounded by it, or who might not have any vocabulary or framework for what worship, formation, or congregational life look like.

Breath. In the attractional model of church that many of us still cling to (whether we admit it or not!), the emphasis is always on doing more. Offering more programs so that more people will come. Plugging newcomers into more activities so that they will feel more integrated. Not only has the attractional model proven itself not very helpful, especially for smaller churches, it also leaves a lot of people feeling run ragged. I think one of the pandemic’s big shocks to our systems was that most things stopped. We realized we had either forgotten how to breathe or realized we had even less time for it when work and caring responsibilities collapsed in on each other. We’re still recovering. One of the best things Church can do now is to resist the pull back to lots of programs and instead create space for thought, prayer, and rest - not just for now, but permanently.

Care. This is about checking in on the people in our faith communities, particularly those who are hurting or vulnerable or homebound. It is also about caring for the world beyond our church property. All around us there is great need. The Church is not meant to be set apart, tending only to its own. Being Christ’s body involves going where that need is and listening, giving tangible help, and working against the systems that put people at a disadvantage - through no fault of their own - to begin with.

Development. Learning and growing aren’t just for kids. So what are we doing in our congregations to form faithful followers of Jesus across every age cohort? This is not about implementing more programs. (See “breath” above.) It is about a way of being. What do our rituals say about what we believe about God? How do we discern when a big decision looms? How do we approach our work in committees and teams as worship? How do we encourage people to explore and tell their faith stories, looking for where God has been at work in the process?

Embodiment. We are people that worship a God who breathed life into our nostrils and called us good, and who came to us in human form when we needed more information and interaction than God could give us from on high. When Jesus headed back upstairs, entrusting us to his ongoing work, we became his hands and feet here on Earth. All of this is to say that God loves bodies, and so should we! We should honor our bodies’ - and others’ - requirements of rest, food, movement, and medical care. We should respect what our bodies - and others’ bodies - are telling us about who their inhabitants are on the inside. We should give thanks for the variety of bodies. We don’t have treat our bodies as regrettable meat sacks that temporarily store our brains and hearts. They are beautiful vehicles for getting out into God’s good world and sharing the love of Christ.

Next week: letters F-J.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash.

When I started my Doctor of Ministry program over a year ago, I thought I’d read fewer books of my choosing. Happily, that has not turned out to be the case! Here are some of the books I read in 2022 that I highly recommend to others. About half were published this year, and the rest came out in recent years.

Fiction

Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. This story about a woman making her way in the male-dominated world of science - and building her own family of people who understand and care about her along the way - felt really relatable to me. (So did the main character to this Enneagram 5.)

A Map for the Missing by Belinda Huijuan Tang. This was a beautiful, tender novel about complicated family and friend relationships made even more so by the main character’s ties to multiple cultures.

The Many Daughters of Afong Moy by Jamie Ford. This story illuminates the power of trauma that is transmitted across generations in often invisible, incomprehensible ways.

The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams. I loved the main character’s commitment to all words, but particularly the words that mainstream dictionaries leave out: the words specific to women’s experiences and that and those of the working class.

Underground Airlines by Ben Winters. What if the Civil War had never happened? This novel posits what this country would look like in a world in which Abraham Lincoln was assassinated sooner.

Black Cake by Charmaine Wilkerson. This tale alternates between past and present, revealing both the matriarch’s big secret and her resilience in the face of unimaginable challenge.

The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams. If you’re a book lover looking for a good read on grief, this is it. Strangers and friends share the names of classic works that help the characters both escape from and process what they’re facing. In the process, they build connections they come to depend upon.

Non-fiction

Muppets in Moscow: The Unexpected Crazy True Story of Making Sesame Street in Russia by Natasha Lance Rogoff. I feel like this book was written just for me. Post-Cold War Russia? Sesame Street? It’s a fascinating read and provides great insight to the political and economic realities in Russia during the mid 1990s.

All the White Friends I Couldn’t Keep: Hope - and Hard Pills to Swallow - About Fighting for Black Lives by Andre Henry. This was an eye-opening read about one Black man’s realizations about how deeply ingrained racism is and how many of his close relationships with white people could not stand as he began to see this. The book is a call to action for Black people to trust themselves and their experiences and for white people to examine our complicity in oppression.

It’s Not You, It’s Everything: What Our Pain Reveals About the Anxious Pursuit of the Good Life by Eric Minton. Do you have low- (or high) level anxiety all the time about the state of the world? This book does a great job of explaining why.

Atomic Habits: An Easy and Proven Way to Build Good Habits and Break Bad Ones by James Clear. If you haven’t yet read this book, do. Its encouragement and practical steps to design tiny habits based on the kind of people we want to be (rather than out of an external goal) are immediately usable.

Wolfpack: How to Come Together, Unleash Our Power, and Change the Game by Abby Wambach. One of the best books on leadership I’ve read, especially for women and girls. You don’t have to be a sports person to get a lot out of it.

Atlas of the Heart: Mapping Meaningful Connection and the Language of Human Experience by Brene Brown. This book offers us language, based in research, for everything we feel. When we can recognize and express how we feel, we can better connect with others.

This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation, and the Stories That Make Us by Cole Arthur Riley. READ THIS BOOK. I recommend the audiobook (read by the author) in addition to the print version. There is so much beauty, depth, and wisdom on a range of themes.

What did you read this year that you loved?

"Whatever the case, it’s hard for those who keep showing up to acknowledge that we might not ever sit in the same pew or gather around the same fellowship meal or Bible study or communion table again with those who are missing. We have shared life with these people, and we grieve the loss of their participation." Read more about how some people aren’t returning to church and what your congregation can do in response at the CBF blog.

Photo by Christian Paul Stobbe on Unsplash.

A couple of years ago, one of my coachees introduced me to the work of culture writer Anne Helen Petersen. Petersen helps her readers think about the systems that are often invisible to us but that we all swim in every day. She also shares thoughts about how to live day-to-day in the midst of those (often harmful) systems even as we advocate for their overhaul. (I recommend her Substack here as well as her books on reconfiguring work and on Millennials and burnout.)

One of Petersen’s interests is creating sustainable communities of care. In the United States care infrastructure is piecemeal at best, and caregiving for children and older adults is undervalued and either underpaid or unpaid. That leaves many people - especially those of us in the sandwich generation - scrambling and harried much of the time, with little space to tend to our own needs for rest and relationships beyond work and caregiving, much less room in our schedules for errands or (dare to dream!) play. We need people we can count on for help, but reaching out is so hard. Petersen names some of the barriers as our identities as helpers, our pride in being self-sufficient, our feelings of overwhelm (which of the many pressing to-dos do we ask for assistance with?), and not having a solid friend network or family nearby because of the multiple moves we’ve made for work.

In a recent post Petersen proposes an “emergency/tough times guide” (here’s her template) in which we name the things that would be most helpful to us when we’re feeling stretched too thin. In her piece she also names ways to use the guide. In addition to the options she presents, I want to offer some thoughts on how you could tailor a communal care guide for you or for your church:

• Craft the prompts for church staff and possibly even key lay leaders and ask them to fill out the form along with you. What personal or ministry support does each person need? What helps individuals feel seen and appreciated? Decide and communicate before distributing the form who will have access to the repository of responses. Access might be based on how vulnerable the questions ask respondents to be, how much trust there is in the system, what roles those with access play in the church, and how willing those people are to provide the requested assistance.

• Develop a form that everyone in your church can fill out on a rolling basis. This equalizes all the participants, makes it ok to ask for help, and reveals the care that would really benefit individuals or family unit so that the church can, well, be the church to each other. You can decide whether the responses will be available to anyone who fills out the form or to a specific team of caregivers committed to meeting needs as they are able.

• Develop a form in two parts for everyone in your church. In the first part takers name needs, and in the second part they share ways they could help others (e.g., taking people to appointments, making phone calls to people who are homebound, providing after school care for children of working parents). Everyone can see responses to both parts of the form, so they know whom to contact to give or receive care.

• Create a clergyperson-specific form, distribute it among your pastor peers, and give all the takers access to the responses. There are certain personal and professional needs that only another minister can understand and fulfill, and the guide could open up conversation about what mutual support could tangibly look like.

None of the options above is perfect. The forms would have to be designed thoughtfully in order to meet the intended aim of building an organic, sustainable care structure. But I think there’s something in here worth considering, a means of acknowledging our needs and others’ and working toward helping one another in ways that make a real difference.

Pastors are humans, and we minister alongside humans. We talk about our dependence on God and our interdependence with one another. Yet we can be so hesitant to acknowledge what is hard in our lives and request help accordingly. Perhaps this communal care guide can lower our resistance to know and be known by each other more deeply and share our burdens in appropriate and relationship-building ways.

Photo by Clint Adair on Unsplash.

In its report “Twenty Years of Congregational Change,” Faith Communities Today reported in 2020 that 44% of all US congregations averaged 50 or fewer attendees each week, with another 25% falling into the 51-100 attendee category. I would not hesitate to hypothesize that the numbers of churches in these size ranges have grown in the past two years. What this means is that there likely is a growing number of churches led by part-time pastors.

This reality presents some challenges, of course. It is becoming harder for pastors - and particularly associate pastors - to find full-time congregational ministry positions. They might need to piece together multiple jobs in order to bring in the income they need to pay monthly bills and to chip away at student debt. They are harder pressed to secure benefits such as health insurance, which typically come only with full-time roles. (I’m happy to get on my soapbox about why insurance should not be tied to employment, but that’s a conversation for another time.) It can be complicated to align the work schedules of two or more jobs.

But even as the numbers trend toward smaller churches with reduced financial resources, there are some real opportunities here. I am privileged to know some pastors who are purposely and purposefully serving in part-time pastor roles. I have learned a lot from them about the beauty of multi-vocational work. (I highly recommend that you check out Rev. Rachel McDonald’s substack “My Other Job.” She has taught me a lot!) Here are some of the advantages to part-time pastorates:

Pastors’ identities are separated from their congregational ministry positions. In this season of discernment and pastoral turnover, I’m hearing an amplified version of a theme that has often run through coaching conversations: Who am I if I am not the leader of [insert name of church here]? Ministers’ sense of self easily becomes intertwined with their roles at particular points in time, making the thought of vocational change - even welcome change - an existential threat. Having more life outside of the congregational context helps pastors sort out who is the person and what is the role.

Churches and pastors can cultivate more intentionality around work and rest. When pastors are paid for twenty hours a week, both they and their congregations must think more about what is essential for the pastor to do - and not do. This practice can lead to more focus on mission and values rather than all the tasks that get lumped under “other duties as assigned.”

Pastors’ income is not wholly dependent on one source. This offers pastors freedom not just in a financial sense but also in allowing them to take more faithful risks in preaching and teaching. This gives them permission to offer the gentle challenge that can lead to significant spiritual growth.

Laypeople can discover and use gifts they never knew they had. When pastors lay down some responsibilities, that creates space for others to take them up. There are no doubt others in your church who can deliver a good word from the pulpit. Pastoral care can become congregational care. People can tap into their convictions and connections to initiate new ways for fellow members to serve. This is the priesthood of all believers at work!

Pastors’ relational networks expand. Many pastors lament that they don’t have time or energy to make friends or serve the community outside of their ministry role. With more time available, they can meet a whole new demographic of people at another job. They can have interests and hobbies that have nothing to do with church. They can establish friendships with peers who are not clergy. They don’t have to be The Pastor in every space.

Churches’ ministries are not as built around programming. A lot of churches are still solidly buying into the attractional model: if we have a great [children’s ministry, youth ministry, etc.], people will come. Maybe, if you’re a megachurch. But most people are looking for relationships, not one more thing to add to the calendar. Having a minister who doesn’t have work time to start and staff programs takes off this pressure to overschedule and properly reorients planning toward mission.

Pastors can flex different muscles. Related to several of the points above, pastors have made themselves (or allowed others to make them) one-dimensional. But God made us all much more complex and contradictory than that! When pastors are part-time, they can try new things or use skills that don’t get called upon in ministry. This faithfully un-flattens them.

I have a lot of hope for the Church and for its impact on the world in the coming years. I don’t think the future of the Church, though, lies necessarily in bringing in waves of new members and their wallets. The part-time trend will only grow, and it’s much better to be proactive in moving from full-time to part-time staffing structures than to hang on to old ways of leading and being until the coffers are depleted. If you want to read about how to make this shift well, I highly recommend G. Jeffrey MacDonald’s 2020 book Part-Time Is Plenty: Thriving Without Full-Time Clergy.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash.

In many churches, this is the time of year when annual reviews of staff take place. For some pastors, these conversations are the only times they hear what is and isn’t working from their congregants’ point of view. That makes reviews somewhat nerve-wracking for clergy. They wonder: What surprises await me when that conference room door closes? 

Here’s the thing, though: Your pastors want feedback from you! Click here to read my thoughts on how your perspectives can be shared in ways that are most useful for your ministers and, by extension, your church.

Photo by Towfiqu barbhuiya on Unsplash.

Take heart! Though there are many challenges for pastors right now (as outlined in this piece), there is also much to celebrate. Click here to read the second article, which focuses on all that is good, based on my recent survey of clergy.

Photo by Carson Masterson on Unsplash.

As the writer of Ecclesiastes says, “For everything there is a season and a time for every matter under heaven.” This is true for individuals, and it is true for churches. There is

a time to wait on God and a time to take action with God;

a time to question and a time to rest in faith;

a time to experiment and a time to commit;

a time to revitalize and a time to close;

a time to listen and a time to make a statement;

a time to gather and a time to send out;

a time to look backward and a time to look forward;

a time to play and a time to study;

a time to take on and a time to let go;

a time to physically distance and a time to embrace;

a time to nourish others and a time to be nourished ourselves;

a time to protest and a time to re-group;

a time to work and a time to take Sabbath;

a time to grieve and a time to hope.

There is a time for all of these things. What season does your church find itself in?

Photo by Vegan Oazïs on Unsplash.

Recently I surveyed pastors about what their biggest challenges and greatest joys are in this season of ministry. This article on the CBF blog about the challenges and ways to address them is part one of a two-piece series based on those survey results.

Photo by Jukan Tateisi on Unsplash.

When I entered seminary in the fall of 1999, I was there to train for ministry. I was not on the lookout for a spouse. And yet, in my final year, I found myself falling in love with a United Methodist pastor from Alabama. When Matt was commissioned for service in his conference, we were not yet engaged. Three years later, though, we were newlyweds when Matt underwent his interviews for ordination.

I attended the interview retreat as moral support. I was shocked to be called into Matt’s actual interview with the Board of Ordained Ministry. The Board asked us what we would do about baptism when we had children, since I was ordained to ministry in a believer’s baptism tradition and the United Methodists practice infant baptism. “Well, if we have children [red flag #1 for the Board], we’ll have that conversation then [red flag #2].” Luckily, in spite of my obstinance/honesty, Matt was approved for ordination. But the summons to his interview, much less the question posed to me, was an early signal to me that life as a clergy spouse came with some land mines.

A few months ago Matt stepped away from pastoring a congregation, at least for a season. As we planned for a year and a half for his leave, which was prompted by the challenges of Covid, 20 years of ministry without a break of more than a week at a time, and other factors, I could not wait to throw off the weight of all the projections that come with being the minister’s wife. Some people relish the role of being married to a pastor. I do not, though I delight both in being clergy myself and being a spouse to Matt.

Since I now feel like I have space to talk more freely, I thought I’d share a bit about my experience. I don’t speak for all clergy spouses, though I expect many could relate with the struggles of being:

Silenced. Ministry is one of the few jobs in which the pastors might (though this should never be assumed) bring their families to work. That makes the stakes higher for everyone in the pastor’s family. If the pastor runs afoul of the congregation, the pastor’s family loses a faith community. If the pastor’s spouse and/or kids “act out,” that causes trouble for the pastor. For me this has resulted in the need (felt, if not actual) to keep my cards close to the vest.

Hurt. People sometimes feel like the pastor and family are fair game for any kind of criticism. I’m not talking about the constructive kind, which is good and necessary for a minister to grow. And it is a special kind of pain to watch an embattled pastor navigate conflict, knowing that you as the spouse can’t do anything to make things better.

Weighed down with expectations. I don’t think many churches (that Matt would serve, anyway) still hand the curriculum for the children’s Sunday School class over to the pastor’s wife on the first day. Other stated and unstated suppositions still lurk, though. Some are benign, like that I would bring a dish to a church potluck. (I am not the cook in our family, and no one needs to take a chance eating what I would make.) Some are more insidious, such as that my work should always be eclipsed by Matt’s.

Vocationally hemmed-in. Being married to an itinerant minister who serves at the pleasure of the bishop has meant we’ve gone where Matt is appointed, and then I adjust vocationally. (Other clergy families, even United Methodist ones, navigate this differently, and I celebrate that!) This has resulted in two narratives that are both true: 1) that Matt’s job security has given me the freedom to develop my ecumenical interim work and coaching practice (which is the story I lean into on my better days) and 2) that I have had to create a portable ministry so that I don’t have to struggle afresh to find my vocational footing every 3-4 years.

Lonely. Pastors have to set boundaries with parishioners for their own ethical integrity. Clergy spouses often end up doing the same to protect their clergy spouses and/or themselves for reasons related to many of the challenges named above.

I give this window into clergy spouse-dom because it doesn’t have to be so hard. Churches can support pastors and their families, and when this happens, everyone wins. Pastor, spouse (and kids, if applicable), and congregation are all energized by love and trust, and a longer and more fruitful mutual ministry together becomes possible. Specifically, here is what churches can do:

Treat your pastors fairly. This is basic stuff that goes for all pastors, whether or not they are partnered or have kids. Respect their time, come alongside them, pay them a just wage, tell them you appreciate them every once in a while, bless their need for breaks, and give them useful feedback. This allows these pastors to be fully human and more present to their loved ones.

Remember that spouses are our own people. When we speak, we speak for ourselves. Clergy shouldn’t have to deal with blowback because church members are clutching their pearls at something the spouse said or did.

Respect the clergy spouse’s needs. Our lives do not have to revolve around a congregation we do not lead. We want to work. We want to have friends who don’t know us as Pastor’s Spouse. We want to feel free to go to church somewhere else sometimes or always. We might even want to sleep in on the occasional Sunday morning.

Don’t expect more of clergy spouses than you would of anyone else. If you think spouses should do more, there should be a formal position with pay involved. If you think spouses should be better, remember that we are human.

See and value clergy spouses. We have our own gifts and callings that we want to exercise to their fullest.

Support and encourage our desire to expand our connections. Our desire to make friends outside the church is not a criticism or rejection of those in the church. We just need to jump out of the fishbowl sometimes.

Offer help with clergy kids, without judgment. Whatever you think about the pastor or spouse, please love our children, even and especially when they are acting out. (It is stressful to bring your child to your own or your spouse’s workplace!) Show interest in them. Engage them in conversation. Invite them to sit with you. Support the need for their care during meetings and classes.

Someone who is currently a clergy spouse can’t say all these things I’ve shared with you. It’s too touchy. But since I now can, I hope my experience sheds some light on what it’s like to be a clergy spouse and how your church can more fully support clergy families.

Photo by Janno Reyes on Unsplash.