It was not always a given that I’d become a mom. After eight years of marriage, my spouse and I still shrugged at each other every time one of us brought up the topic of parenthood. That is, until God dropped a vision-bomb of me setting down a toddler, who then ran so gleefully to a man - my husband - that the parent-child connection was obvious.

It was almost two years until that child I’d seen in my mind was born. As an interim minister, I was between calls, but I knew I’d want to work again soon. The kind of position I was looking for was different than pre-baby, though. I wanted to go part-time while Levi was so young, and I needed a congregational context that would welcome his presence rather than resent it. (In fact, I turned down one job offer when it seemed the senior pastor didn’t really want my kid around.) I hit the jackpot, accepting the call to be minister to youth at a church I had previously served as interim associate minister. The search team chair bent over backwards to make the situation work for Levi and me. She found us a spot at the church’s early childhood ministry for the days that I worked. She arranged for childcare on Sunday evenings when I would be leading youth group. The senior minister and my immediate supervisor, the associate minister who followed my interim, were also generous with their support.

I loved that I could utilize my gifts as minister while my baby was across the hall from my office, being cared for by people who adored him. I loved that his teachers could ask me questions or grab me about concerns at any time. I loved that when he refused to take a nap in room full of active babies (the FOMO has always been strong with this one), I could lay him down in my office, turn off the lights, and work by computer monitor light while he slept. Sunday mornings, though, were my favorite. Since I served a Disciples of Christ congregation, there was communion every week. As youth minister I rarely presided at the table, so I slipped out the back of the sanctuary, picked Levi up from the nursery, and joined the end of the communion line. At first I carried him facing out in a wrap, his smile and others’ big as we walked down the aisle. As he began to walk, he teeter-tottered forward, and people on the end of the pews clutched their chests in joy. In front of the communion table, he regularly heard that the bread and juice meant that Jesus loved him.

It was a gift for both of us to spend two years in an environment that supported my ministry and nurtured my budding parental identity and my son’s faith development. It reinforced for me that I was called both to ministry and motherhood, and that in the right context, I could do both imperfectly but well. I believe - hope - that our presence also reassured the congregation of the same to the benefit of other clergywomen who might serve there.

Above all, though, I gained insight into who God is as holy parent. God does not compartmentalize when it comes to Jesus - God is Creator/Sustainer/Redeemer of all humankind as well as Jesus’ own parent at all times, even when the overlap gets messy. God wishes to affirm all the parts of us as well. That is part of what it means to be made whole.

As I transitioned from ministry in the congregation to the ministry of clergy coaching, making space for my two calls has been the priority. As Levi got older and started school, I started to divide up my life into work and family tracks. During the pandemic, those lines have slowly been erased. I’ll admit - it was rough at first. It’s still hard sometimes. But once we found our groove, I remembered how wonderful it was to be able to snuggle my baby (now 7 years old) anytime during the day while still living fully into my pastoral call. Thanks be to God for the chance to pastor and parent.

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This post is part of the book launch blog tour for Embodied: Clergy Women and the Solidarity of a Mothering God. Embodied includes reflection questions at the end of each chapter, to instigate conversations that lead to support and new perspectives. The book is available this September from Bookshop.org, Amazon, or Cokesbury.  Check out all the stops on the blog tour, and buy the book!

There are many ways I could describe the past six months, but I’m going with “revealing.” The pandemic has clarified systemic issues related to a broken healthcare system, racial inequities, lack of leadership at almost every level (governmental and denominational), and inefficient infrastructure for responding to crises. Specifically, though, I am thinking about how all the shifts prompted by Covid-19 have uncovered how unsustainable ministry is for so many pastors in their current contexts.

Prior to the pandemic, a significant number of my clergy coachees and colleagues were working under unrealistic expectations, whether those came from their congregations or from their own internal “shoulds.” And then, mid-Lent, they had to change the ways they did nearly everything - and fast. They became not just preachers but tech experts with all that entails: recording, editing, sound mixing, lighting, inviting people to and teaching them how to participate in and managing online meetings, exploring the most accessible social media platforms, and monitoring cyber security. They spent many hours trying to get all of this right because worship and Bible study and fellowship are so critical, not knowing that they’d have to continue all that they started beyond a few weeks, often without much help from others. (Because, again, the shutdown was supposed to be temporary, so why ask for assistance from others dealing with their own altered realties?)

Now not only do many ministers’ jobs look very different than what they were before mid-March, but they may no longer align with these leaders’ senses of giftedness and call. They are doing work they did not sign up for, or at least work they didn’t particularly love has increased while the aspects that energized them have all but evaporated. And there is no end in sight to these changes, both because Covid-19 continues to spread and because pastors know that they’ll have to keep up at least some of their new tasks once churches re-gather to accommodate constituents who’ve found virtual connection works better for them.

In addition, ministers lost their best means of not just keeping tabs on how their church members were doing but also getting any kind of encouraging feedback, namely seeing faces in the pews during worship and interacting informally with folks on Sunday mornings. This loss made communication, pastoral care, and decision-making infinitely harder. Everything started to take more time, more intentionality, more energy. This, while many clergy have also been caring for and schooling children whose schools and daycares closed and whose other caregivers have had to isolate to protect their own health.

In return for all the extra effort, many pastors have received mostly anxiety and negativity in return. Part of this is because everyone is struggling, and church is an easy place for people to project discontent. (What’s your pastor going to do if you get mad? She can’t fire you, refuse to work with you, or give you a bad grade.) Part of this is the polarization in our culture, which has morphed public health measures like closing buildings and wearing masks into political landmines during a presidential election cycle. And part is simply that church members simply don’t know all that their leaders are doing since everyone is isolated in their homes.

The effects of all these difficulties are taking their toll. They have deepened pre-existing fault lines and created new ones such that clergy who already had some sense of discontent now have one foot out the door, and some who were very happy are seriously questioning whether their current context is still a good fit. The result, I predict, is going to be a tidal wave of pastoral departures once churches re-gather, and maybe sooner depending on how long the pandemic rages on. Clergy who have been hurt by accusing questions like, “What are you doing all day?” or “Why can’t we meet?” or “Why didn’t you do X (or call Y)?” “Are you really going to make me wear a mask?” are going to have trouble forgetting and will look for fresh starts elsewhere. Some lead clergy who have caught a lot of heat might want to step into positions, such as associate roles, where they aren’t the point person. Others are just going to feel chewed up and spat out and choose to leave the ministry altogether.

Church folks, this time is hard for everyone. It’s hard for you, certainly. And it’s hard for your pastor. If you want to keep your pastor after Covid-19 becomes more manageable, here are some suggestions to help ease your minister’s stress during the pandemic:

• Check on your pastor. Many clergy don’t have anyone outside of their family to ask how they are and to listen to the answer.

• If you have the bandwidth, ask how you can help. As mentioned above, ministers took an unsustainable amount of work on themselves early in the pandemic because it was easier in the short term, they didn’t want to bother others who were struggling, and they didn’t know they’d be doing all the extra tasks six months later.

• Speak well about your pastor to others. If other church members talk disparagingly about what they think the minister is or isn’t doing, reply with your belief that she is working hard and, like all of us, doing the best she can.

• If someone mentions a specific pastoral care need to you, urge that person to contact the pastor. She wants to know so that she can respond!

• Engage bigger questions with fellow church members. What are we learning about our church or our community during this time? What do we need to keep or stop doing as a result? If you can think beyond the moment and help others do so, your pastor will be so grateful.

• Send your minister an encouraging card, text, or email. Name specific things you see her doing that you appreciate. This noticing goes a long way in helping a pastor feel valued.

It’s normal for clergy to depart in the wake of an acute event like a disaster. It isn’t inevitable, though. People in the (virtual) pews can attempt to stem the tidal wave simply by being supportive and encouraging others to do so. Even if your pastor eventually leaves, she will treasure the affirmation, and your church will have established patterns for loving your next leader well.

Photo by Max McKinnon on Unsplash.

A few weeks ago I shared my takeaways from Part-Time Is Plenty: Thriving Without Full-Time Clergy, which assures its readers that having a part-time pastoral leader can be a nudge toward greater vitality. I experienced a bit of whiplash when I followed up that read with The Last Pastor: Faithfully Steering a Closing Church. In it retired Episcopal priest Gail Cafferata shares her own experiences along with those of other mainline ministers upon realizing their congregations no longer had the resources to sustain themselves. Some of these clergy knew upon entering these contexts that their primary task was to bring the church to a good end. Most did not, making their journey toward closing more personally difficult.

This is a useful read for any pastor whose church is teetering on the edge of viability. But I think the audience that most needs to internalize the lessons in this book is judicatory leaders. The ministers Cafferata interviewed note time and again how the work of closing the church was made much easier or more difficult based on the posture of the judicatory and the information the judicatory was willing to share. On the negative side of the equation, some judicatory leaders take a “not on my watch” approach that denies churches’ situations until they are too dire or conflicted to end well. (This often results in installing first-call pastors whose enthusiasm for ministry quickly fades with the hard road toward closing and women who find themselves toeing the edge of the glass cliff.) Others pull the rug out, closing churches with little to no input from the pastor or parishioners. A few mock or blame the clergy who are faithfully attempting to lead their congregations through a grief process. All of this abandonment can prompt ministers to question their effectiveness and possibly their call to vocational ministry.

The ministers referenced in the book make it clear that pastors need honesty, partnership, spiritual support from the people charged with the care of districts or regions of churches and their leaders. Clergy also benefit from focused help and positive references from their judicatory leader as they search for their next call, because pastor search teams are sometimes unable to look beyond the fact that the candidate’s last church closed. When congregations and their clergy feel respected and seen, closing is much more likely to be more meaningful for all involved and result in those church members seeking out new faith homes.

Ministers in smaller churches, read this book. More importantly, get it in the hands of those with influence in your judicatory.

Sure, I’m biased. But I believe coaching is more valuable now than ever. Pastors are facing so many new situations for which there is no expert advice. We are all feeling our way along, and coaching can help you think through your gifts, needs, resources, and context so that you create a path that fits you and the people in your care. For example:

Is your church continuing to meet online for the foreseeable future, yet you’re exhausted and not sure how to make this means of ministry sustainable? Coaching can help you think through goals for this time, cull the to-do list down to the tasks that make accomplishing those aims possible, and a make plan for tackling the tasks.

Are you undecided about how to approach the traditional start of the program year in this very untraditional season of social distancing? Coaching can help you tap into your creativity and place this program year in a larger spiritual formation trajectory, making it easier to focus on and get excited about what is most important.

Are you looking for a new call during this pandemic, wondering whether churches are searching for pastors and how a candidate can tell her story well in these changed circumstances? Coaching can help you identify the added opportunities and challenges of being in search & call right now, enabling you to capitalize on the former and manage the latter.

Are you scratching your head (or, let’s be real, panicking) about how to balance supervising your child(ren)’s virtual or blended school while staying faithful to your ministerial role? Coaching can help you name how you want to show up for your family and your church, then make an actionable plan for how to operate that way.

Do you want to explore a new self care strategy since many of your usual outlets are unavailable to you? Coaching can draw out the characteristics that make self care effective for you and broaden your thinking about tactics that meet those criteria.

Has your pastoral position been downsized from full- to part-time because the offering has tailed off during the pandemic? Coaching can help you make the transition to being truly part-time - not just full-time with part-time pay - and to discover additional income streams if needed.

Is the polarization over mask-wearing morphing into political debate in your congregation - with a U.S. presidential election looming - and leaving you caught in the middle? Coaching can help you discern how to self-differentiate so that you can tend well to relationships rather than get hooked by arguments.

Not only can coaching assist in these areas and more, but it is fully customizable to your goals and your schedule. If you had professional development funds earmarked for conferences you can no longer attend, there is no better use of that money than to contract with a coach who can help you navigate all that 2020 is throwing at us. I welcome you to schedule a free discovery call here to learn more about how I approach coaching and to ask any questions you might have.

Photo by Edwin Hooper on Unsplash.

Covid-19 has wreaked havoc on almost every area of our individual and corporate lives. Our resilience, resourcefulness, and relationships have been stretched to their limits as we’ve managed ongoing drastic changes in our professional and personal lives over the past 3+ months. As we’ve been doing all the things and caring for all the people, ministers serving congregations with tenuous finances have wondered how much longer their church budget would support the amount of work they’ve been putting in. (Although, let’s be honest, many ministers were and are already underpaid for the fullness of their efforts.) At this point in an ongoing pandemic, some congregations have had to make tough choices, including cutting back the hours and pay of their minister or eliminating a ministry position entirely.

Are you a clergyperson who finds yourself in this situation? Maybe the amount of work to be done has not changed - nor has your care for your parishioners - but the paid scope of your position has. Or you suddenly find yourself searching for a new call in the midst of Covid-19. These are not easy transitions to manage without help.

I’d like to offer encouragement and partnership to you. During each week in July I am making two one-hour coaching sessions available at no charge to clergy whose positions have been cut or eliminated entirely. You can sign up for one of these sessions here. Together we’ll strategize next steps for making your responsibilities fit your salary or starting the search for a new ministry position. Your leadership is too valuable to the church and world for you to be doing work you’re not paid for or spinning your wheels!

Please share this information with colleagues who could benefit.

In the pastoral model that pops to mind for most Christians in the United States, the minister is a generalist. She preaches, visits, attends meetings in the church and community, and might even repair broken toilets and run the bulletins. That means the clergyperson accompanies people through the valley of the shadow of death and to the tops of mountains, with many mundane pit stops in between.

Right now, though, pastors are not just being asked to care and officiate during all the milestones between the beginning and end of life. They are being forced into making decisions that actually impact life and death. As states and local municipalities begin to re-open, ministers are faced with decisions about physical re-gathering for worship and other church activities. They are reading the Covid-19 statistics, comparing the weekly offering to budget needs, hearing about the congregation down the road re-opening, negotiating tricky conversations about the pandemic that often fall along political lines, and feeling pressure from church members who yearn to be in a familiar space for comforting rituals in a disorienting time. Clergy are doing these things as they continue to preach weekly, check on folks (who have even more emotional needs now) by phone or text, drop into a seemingly-infinite number of Zoom meetings, and record, edit, and upload worship services.

Pastors, for better and worse, are used to wearing a lot of hats. But there are only so many hooks on the rack.

Ministers, be gentle with - and take care of - yourselves. Otherwise, you cannot be the grounded leader your people need. It’s ok to knock some of your hats onto the floor to do this.

Church folks, be gentle with - and take care of - your pastor. I know you cannot see everything your minister is doing right now, because she’s doing most of it from home. But to a person, every clergyperson I’ve talked with over the past two months is working incredibly hard to care for and lead you in new ways. Some of these ways take longer. For many, there’s a learning curve. If you want to complain that your pastor has not set a date for physical re-gathering, please understand that decision is made out of a combination of attention to statistics, careful consideration, and - most importantly - a love for each and every member of your congregation. If you want to delight your pastor, however, reflect on what you’ve learned about your discipleship and your church during the pandemic.

Be well, all.

Photo by JOSHUA COLEMAN on Unsplash.

Let’s not mince words. This whole COVID-19 business sucks.

That suckage covers a big range, too. At one extreme, there’s the physical danger to immunosuppressed people and to those living in poverty, who might have difficulty feeding themselves as schools close and shelves empty at food banks and at stores that take government benefits. At the other extreme, people lament the (hopefully very short-term) loss of all that makes life enjoyable, such as birthday parties and trips and worship services and the NCAA basketball tournament. And these are only the immediate impacts.

So we’re all feeling the pinch in some way. The mortal danger is, of course, the exponentially greater concern. That’s why institutions of all kids are taking precautions and recommending safety guidelines to leaders and individuals – including pastors and church members. Talk about the things they didn’t teach you in seminary: many a minister is struggling to tend both to concerns about vulnerable people and frustrations about closures in a context that is now changing hourly.

Fully acknowledging how much the situation stinks, there are a couple of opportunities to keep in mind.

First, the church is not the building where your congregation is used to meeting. The church I attended in seminary had (and probably still has) a sign that said, “Oakhurst Baptist meets here.” It was a way of separating the congregation from the physical location. Many a church struggles to do that. After all, how many conversations about sanctuary carpet or the color the youth want to paint the walls of their meeting space become seemingly all-consuming, to the detriment of actual ministry? With many churches canceling in-person gathering for at least the next few weeks, there can begin to be more daylight between the people and the place.

With that in mind, how can you help your congregation members see in new ways that church is about relationships, not a facility? How will you equip and encourage your people to tend to those connections in the absence of a physical gathering place?

Second, the church as it was has been dying for some time. Many pastors know that, yet it can be hard to imagine what a new iteration of church might look like. And even if we can visualize it, how in the world can we inspire our people to be courageous enough to attempt it? Well, this pandemic offers a laboratory for that. We can’t conduct business as usual. We thus have unprecedented permission to discern new ways of connecting to one another as we seek to grow in our relationships with God.

So what expressions of the scattered church have you wanted to play with but heretofore haven’t dared? If you’re not sure what you’d like to experiment with, how can those who are accustomed to relating to people who aren’t physically present (e.g. youth ministers, digital natives, tech professionals) show us the way?

I am praying for you, pastors, and I am confident in your faithfulness, compassion, and ability to innovate. Lean into those strengths – you might be surprised by what emerges. And as you attempt new things, give yourself permission not to have all the answers immediately. We’re all feeling our way along in this brave new world.

If your church is like most, it has a lot of committees. (It might even have - GASP - more than it needs!) So why would a congregation expend valuable member energy on a pastor search team AND a personnel committee AND a pastoral relations committee?

Simply put, these three bodies fulfill different but complementary functions:

A pastor search team (or pastor nominating committee for our PCUSA friends) does what its name suggests. It designs and implements the steps required to call a clergyperson to the congregation. Search teams are ad hoc and disbanded once the incoming minister has settled in. (The exception would be when the new pastor asks the search team to morph into a pastoral relations committee. See below.)

At their best, personnel committees help staff members live fully into their roles. (Note that in some churches and denominations pastors answer to personnel committees, but in others personnel committees oversee non-pastoral staff while the clergy primarily relate to another group of leaders.) They clarify expectations of staff both for employees and for the congregation and establish constructive feedback loops. They help staff work through challenges and provide them with the resources needed to do so.

Pastoral relations committees are support teams for the minister. This body is made up of people with whom the clergyperson feels comfortable sharing more sensitive information such as personal conflicts and family or medical issues. (This is why incoming ministers sometimes ask their search teams to serve as their first PRCs. The clergyperson has grown comfortable with the search team through the search process and does not yet have relationships with other church members.) PRCs offer feedback and encouragement and occasionally advocate for the pastor to the appropriate body, but they do not review or oversee the minister.

Search teams will want high-functioning personnel and pastoral relations committees because they carry forward the work the search team begins. The most thorough, faithful search can result in a crash-and-burn if the personnel committee is stocked with people bringing an agenda or if there’s no PRC to support the pastor. With that in mind, what changes does your church need to make and what practices does it need to implement?

I know a lot of clergywomen. I run in different networks designed for them. I coach them. I am one myself. And I cannot think of a single one that is not creative, smart, and committed. Why, then, aren’t more clergywomen serving as senior pastors in big pulpits or leading middle judicatories or denominations?

Some of the reasons  are cultural and structural. Women, socialized for humility, are more likely to be shamed (by men and women) for assertively sharing their successes and ideas. Women’s contributions are sometimes co-opted by men, who repeat and get credit for what women have said, sometimes just moments before. Women often have smaller spheres of influence because of the ministry roles to which they are called, giving them less exposure for big steeple pastor searches and elections to leadership on a larger platform. That’s why I piloted a cohort called Trinit-A this fall to help the participants become more comfortable and confident sharing their successes and innovations, celebrate each other’s gifts and accomplishments in ways that encourage continued growth, and go to bat for one another and themselves in spaces dominated by male voices.

During the first session, I asked the members of the cohort what their personal hopes for our time together would be. The group named a desire to share what we learned with others. One of our chosen methods was a blog post. And so, with the cohort’s blessing, I would like to name some of the themes that emerged from our conversations.

Affirm specifics. The group members noted that often they hear their male counterparts celebrated for specific talents and tasks, while they are generally – even generically – referred to as “great,” “sweet,” or “wonderful.” They encouraged affirming in others and in ourselves particular gifts or accomplishments. That makes it more likely that the clergywoman in question will stick in hearers’/observers’ minds and will stand out more in search processes.

Re-write your bio. When we guest preach or speak or lead a retreat, we are inevitably asked for a bio to put in the bulletin and other marketing pieces. Look at yours. In what ways have you undersold your credentials? (If you’re unsure, consult with one of your biggest cheerleaders.) Then take another run at a bio that captures the fullness of your track record and abilities.

Take your rightful seat at the table. Sometimes we’re invited to the table. More often we have to invite ourselves. Either way, it’s important to show up to leadership conversations, reframing, questioning, challenging, and offering our insight on our own behalf and others.’

Network to connect others. For some, networking is still a dirty word. For others it’s not, but it feels awkward. Networking, done right, is intended to benefit both parties. But there’s a way to make it not just win-win, but win-win-win as Michael Scott would say. Consider how you can use your relationships to introduce people who would be of interest to one another but might not meet without your help. Then those people (and the ones they serve) have benefitted, and you lodge in others’ brains as someone who is connected and generous and wise about potential collaborations.

Link hands across denominational lines. Some denominations have more women in ministry than others. Regardless if you’re a pioneer or a third wave clergywoman, though, it helps to have relationships and sounding boards among female clergy in other denominations. These spaces offer perspective, a greater pool of support, and opportunities to share more honestly than is sometimes possible in small denominational worlds. They also lay the groundwork for multi-denominational collaboration.

Highlight positive voices. This fall a certain (male) evangelical leader made a big hubbub about telling a certain (female) author, speaker, and Bible teacher to return to her domicile, among other offensive statements. That incident got a lot of play on my Twitter and Facebook feeds, but it didn’t do much for women other than accentuate how entrenched the patriarchy remains. Instead of giving men who belittle women a bigger platform, the cohort advocated for pushing the voices of women and their allies. It’s just as easy to click share or retweet if you see a clergywoman doing something good or saying something insightful as it is to pass along outrageous content.

Keep track of all you do. The cohort was built on the participants’ willingness to announce recent accomplishments. There were long pauses on the first couple of calls, though, as the members scrolled through their days to remember something worth sharing. After a couple of weeks, one of the women suggested keeping a running list between calls. That shifted the conversation. Responses included, “I didn’t realize how much I do!” and “I thought this was something everyone did. It never occurred to me before now that it is a legit accomplishment.” We’re better prepared to talk about ourselves when we acknowledge all that we do.

Know that your success is my success, and vice versa. We’ve probably all heard a congregation say, “Well, we tried having a woman pastor, and it just didn’t work.” It might be decades before that church is willing to call a woman again, even though the issue was likely not the minister herself but the fit or the church’s lack of support. On the other hand, you might have also heard, “We had a woman pastor, and she was amazing. Let’s call another one.” When one of us succeeds, we broaden the path for all our colleagues.

If we announce our accomplishments and affirm and amplify each other, our whispers of giftedness and faithfulness become shouts that skeptics can’t ignore.

Thank you to this pilot cohort of Trinit-A. I enjoyed being with and learning from you so much.

If you are interested in a future Trinit-A cohort, contact me.

In churches that have more than one clergyperson on staff, it is good and right for the congregation to look to the associate pastor(s) for leadership when the senior pastor is away. That associate pastor has the training and the big picture understanding to keep ministry moving forward during the senior pastor’s absence.

Things get tricky, though, when we’re talking about the long-term leave (such as sabbatical) or the resignation of a senior pastor. In these instances the capabilities of associate pastors do not change, but their capacities do. A senior pastor’s two-week vacation typically means temporarily-added stress for an associate pastor, who might take on more worship leadership, preaching, pastoral care, and administrative (e.g. meetings) duties than usual. That is doable for a short span. Carrying those extra responsibilities for months, however, could easily lead to resentment and/or burnout on the part of an associate pastor. After all, she is doing more than the job to which the church called her. And all too often congregations don’t recognize, bring in help for, or compensate this essential yet supplemental work.

How, then, can these common gaps in senior pastor leadership be navigated well? Here are a few thoughts:

Senior pastors can

• Make the effort to communicate to church leadership how much time they spend on the various aspects of their ministry so that those leaders can make good decisions about coverage.

• Invite their associate pastors to ask questions, share concerns, and state needs around the responsibilities that might fall to them during long-term senior pastor absences.

• Secure temporary assistance for their associate pastors during sabbatical periods and advocate for additional compensation during and time off after the leave for their associate pastors.

• Help the church be pro-active about budgeting for temporary assistance and additional compensation so that the funds will be there when needed.

Associate pastors can

• Talk with their senior pastors, pastoral relations committees, and/or personnel committees about their hopes and fears around their senior pastors’ absences.

• Keep track of all of their responsibilities and the time needed to do each well. Be prepared to share this information with church leaders and to help them do the math. (“If you want me to pick up X responsibility, what would you like for me to drop?”)

• Ask for what they need. What kind of help would be most useful? Who might provide it? How much recovery time will be required after the church is fully-staffed again? How much additional pay would be fair for taking on senior pastor duties?

• Go on vacation beforehand. Have something to look forward to afterward.

• Ensure they have breaks built into the time when they’ll be running point.

Congregations can

• Recognize their associate pastors as pastors, all the time.

• Take care to appreciate their associate pastors’ extra effort and to note the toll it takes when the senior pastor is gone.

• Acknowledge that associate pastors pick up extra emotional labor when senior pastors are absent due to added anxiety in the system.

• Mobilize to pick up some of the duties that would otherwise fall by the wayside when the senior pastor is away.

• Listen to associate pastors when they say that expectations are unreasonable. Even better, invite them to share concerns in advance of the leave and work to resolve them.

• Give associate pastors some choice in what they pick up and what they hand off to others during senior pastor absences. Some associates might be eager to preach more. Others might want to stay closer to the areas of ministry to which the church called them.

• Budget for additional pastoral help during stretches without a senior pastor in place. In other words, be ready to call at least a part-time interim minister following a senior pastor’s resignation, and be prepared to pay for temporary help during a senior pastor’s sabbatical.

A senior pastor’s absence can be a time of growth for the associate pastor and the congregation. In order to harness this opportunity, though, it is important to be thoughtful and pro-active. Otherwise, expect the associate pastor to begin imagining herself elsewhere.

It is important for your minister to thrive. Matt Bloom, a professor at Notre Dame, is well-known for his research on what contributes to thriving in various vocations. Here are some of the factors he names as crucial for clergy:

• physical health

• everyday happiness

• the opportunity to be authentic

• good boundaries

• a sense of meaning (and purpose within that bigger picture of meaning)

• relationships with others

• the ability to self-reflect

You can read more about Bloom’s work here.

But why is it so important that clergy thrive? Well, as it turns out, there is a link between flourishing ministers and flourishing congregations. One party’s health contributes to the other’s. (The same is true of languishing.) Wouldn’t you prefer to be part of a church that has some of the characteristics of thriving mentioned above rather than one that pretends to be something it is not, is constantly conflict-ridden, has no self-awareness, and doesn’t connect to a larger sense of purpose? I know I would.

Ok. But why, then, is it important that congregations thrive? This is often where the reflection stops. We don’t need clergy and churches that flourish simply for flourishing’s sake. We need to be able to contribute to one another’s thriving so that together we can then answer God’s call to contribute to a more loving, just, and generous world. Our congregations are situated within local and global contexts that are hungry for love, justice, and generosity. And these contexts are part of God’s good creation and our spheres of influence, just like our little patches of physical plant are, so our partnering with and participation in them is a condition of faithful stewardship.

But back to the minister. What can congregations do to help that clergyperson thrive, so that the minister then offers quality pastoral leadership and a good model to the congregation, so that in turn the church’s flourishing takes it into the world to do great things alongside God? This is an important question for congregations to consider as they search and negotiate with pastoral candidates. Ministers want to thrive, but they often jump into new calls with both feet without first thinking through what they need to flourish. They are so quickly consumed that it is then difficult to back up and set good practices. Search teams can help incoming pastors not only by giving them permission to set up the conditions for thriving but also by covenanting with their clergy at the start around maintaining those practices.

Here are some questions search teams can ask their ministerial candidates to form the basis for this covenant:

• What do you imagine thriving might look like for you in this context?

• What practices would you like to put in place to make this flourishing possible?

• What time do you need to carve out to implement these practices?

• What spaces will it be important for you to inhabit?

• What support do you need from the congregation to follow through on your plan?

• How might you share with the church about the impact of your practices?

Putting the conditions for clergy thriving into place at the outset will reaffirm for that minister that your church is a great fit and is invested in mutual care. You’ll have laid the groundwork for a long, fruitful ministry together.

Last week I talked about the challenges of moving as a clergy spouse. This week I want to address an issue of even greater concern to me personally: moving a preacher’s kid.

When our family relocated to our current city for my husband’s pastoral appointment, our son was two. He didn’t really understand what was happening. He was also a bit delayed in stringing together words, so he couldn’t ask us questions or verbally share many of his feelings. We tried to make him feel safe, and we explained as simply and as well as we knew how. Still, his anxiety ramped up as he saw boxes accumulating in our old house, causing behavior changes and stress-induced illness. And when we moved into our current house, which was a great situation in many ways, he spent the first day wandering around the house in tears. What was this place? Why were we here? Would we leave him here alone? Where was all of his stuff? It broke my mama heart.

He’s an adaptable kid, though, and it didn’t take long for him to love his new surroundings. So much so that my husband and I dreaded telling him that now, four years later, it is time to move again. We knew we would be moving months before we could tell our son. For one thing, we were bound by confidentiality. For another, we weren’t sure yet where we were going. Once we found out, we sat him down and gave him the news. “You mean I’ll have to leave my school? My NanNan and Papa? My church?” That last one really stung. When a clergy parent moves, the whole family loses its faith community and the anchor of its social connections.  (That is, if the family has been coming to church with the clergy parent. Some do not, and churches should not assume that the family will attend.) It’s hard to explain to a child that mom or dad’s job is the link to a particular congregation and that changing jobs means severing that link.

As you can hear, the grief is potent in a PK. Here our son made his first real friends. He claimed his church and his school, and they claimed him in return. He will move away from one set of grandparents, an aunt and uncle, and three cousins who are like his siblings. He will leave behind his own activities, like the martial arts academy where he has learned so many life skills and the music school that promoted his verbal development. In all of this sadness his dad and I are trying to balance honoring his feelings and helping him get excited about a new adventure.

One of my son’s biggest worries relates to parsonage/manse/rectory life. Not everything in our house belongs to us – some furnishings belong to the church. He is trying to get straight what will be going with us and wondering if some of his toys and stuffed animals were never really his. And what if we leave something behind? And where will I sleep in my new house? Will I have a bed since this bed stays here? These are all hard concepts for a 6-year-old, especially as the boxes tower over us and the anxiety mounts and the truck’s arrival date grows ever closer.

When we get to our new town, our routines (specifically our Sunday morning ones) will change. He and I won’t go to Panera Bread for breakfast before Sunday School at 10:00 and worship at 11:00, because there is no Panera Bread. We don’t know which worship service we’ll attend, traditional at 9:00 or contemporary at 11:00.  Our son’s Sunday School teachers will have to learn that he is always in costume, whether as a penguin or Batman or a book character named Galaxy Zack. And he’s a method actor, so expect the voice and persona to go with the character. He’s not going to be a sharply-dressed, perfectly still and reverent preacher’s kid.

You know from reading to this point that though the circumstances are causing some of my son’s anxiety, some of my own is probably adding on. It’s kind of a cycle. I’m working on it, I promise! But it is important for clergy to be aware of what their children might experience with a move – knowing adversity can be character-building – and for churches receiving new pastors with children to understand what the minister will be coping with on the home front. Make an effort to get to know clergy children, to make them feel valued in their own right. Soon they will be at home in your congregation, and your new pastor can focus more fully on ministry alongside you.

My husband and I are both clergy. I was ordained first, in a tradition that allows ministers to decide what positions to seek and where to search. Matt, on the other hand, still had a couple of years to go as a provisional minister in the United Methodist Church, in which clergy are appointed to congregations by the bishop. In other words, I was mobile, and he was not. So it made sense that I would move to where he was pastoring when we got married fifteen years ago.

As it has worked out, I have been the trailing spouse ever since. Though frustrating at first, those circumstances eventually played a part in my decisions to pursue interim ministry, consultant, and coach training as well as opportunities to serve beyond my denomination. I love what I do, and because of my education and network, I can do it anywhere.

It’s helpful to remember that, because it’s moving time again. Next week we’ll migrate our household two hours up the road so that Matt can take a new appointment. For the moving minister, this change is predictably bittersweet. It’s hard to leave a congregation you’ve pastored for several years, but the anticipation of new challenges is (mostly) exciting. There’s a tangible reality this clergyperson is reaching toward. For the spouse of a minister, this new thing is much more nebulous. There’s no pre-set title, role, or responsibilities waiting – there shouldn’t be, at least! – and contact with the new church and community is minimal before the actual move. The feelings of a moving clergy spouse, then, can vary widely, and I think it’s important for churches receiving new pastors to know that.

Specifically, there can be more grief than excitement because what we as spouses are leaving is much more definable that what the future holds. From my perspective, there has been good in our current church, even as there has been difficulty. I have cultivated networks in the surrounding community that I will deeply miss, and I have doubts that there will be similar counterparts in my new town. And I lament the unmet hopes and plans for our time in this city. (For example, I have had to put some developments in my coaching practice on hold to free up time to pack and to be able to put a more long-term address on legal paperwork.)

Also, developing a sense of home is difficult as a clergy spouse, particularly the spouse of an officially itinerant minister. The unknowns around how long we will be living in this place affect how much I invest in the church and community. I wonder whether it’s worth hanging pictures and art on the wall. I hesitate to make friends, knowing we will not be here forever. The anticipatory grief begins almost as soon as a bond is established. I note all these patterns in myself, even as I wonder how to adapt them to be more healthy and settled.

And then there’s the issue of expectations. I am not, will never be, don’t want to be the stereotypical clergy spouse. For example, don’t assume I’ll be at church whenever the doors are open. I also probably won’t teach Sunday School, even though I love kids and have been both a children’s and a youth minister, because I’m on the road some Sundays. This can be hard for a receiving congregation to understand. It’s not rejection. It’s just that I have my own call to ministry, and I’m very introverted to boot. And, of course, these expectations say nothing about my parenting. My kid is always in character. He’s painfully (for me) outgoing. He’s very inquisitive. While I want him to be respectful, I will not change who he is so that he can be a smartly-dressed, seen-but-not-heard preacher’s kid. (More on that next week.)

Clergy spouses, I pray with and for you when you go through a pastoral change. Churches, I encourage you to do the same and to ask your pastoral families what they – and I mean all the family members – need. When the clergy family feels seen, heard, and valued, it makes it much more likely that your pastor will be able to focus on the work at hand. It also breeds the kind of connection that makes the minister and family want to stay in your congregation for a long time.

In one of my contract ministry roles, I help clergy put together peer groups for mutual learning and encouragement. Some of these groups convene around a common focus, such as digging into the Enneagram or working for racial justice or balancing parenthood and pastoring. Other groups, however, understand the importance of a colleague group for combatting isolation and burnout in ministry but aren’t sure what topics to discuss when they gather.

If you have a peer group that is eager to get together and engage in professional development but isn’t sure what that might look like, consider a workshop. Here are some of the learning opportunities I offer:

• Creating and using your personal purpose statement

• Living into your pastoral potential

• Building trust at multiple levels

• Fending off overfunctioning

• Strategizing for self-care

• Creating helpful feedback loops

• Searching for a new call

• Leaving and starting calls well

Most of these workshops can all be completed in 1-1.5 hours, including a high degree of interaction. They are conducted via Zoom, which means they would work for clergy groups that are accustomed to gathering in person or those that are geographically scattered. The online format makes the workshops very schedule-friendly, customizable, and affordable. The material presented could provide the springboard for deeper conversation over multiple gatherings.

If you would like to learn more about a particular workshop and/or discuss options for putting one on the calendar, I invite you to contact me.

In recent months I’ve had the opportunity to coach several co-pastor teams, each a bit different in its composition. Some of the teams are comprised of married couples, others are not. A few of the co-pastors have solo or lead pastor experience in their backgrounds, but the majority are in the first chair for the first time.

In addition to coaching these co-pastor teams, I have received inquiries from search teams about whether they should consider calling co-pastors. These questions often come from congregations that started out looking for one person to fill the role of pastor, then candidates have asked whether the church would be willing to call two ministers to fill the position.

Since the co-pastor model seems to be growing in prevalence, I think it would be worth most (if not all) search teams’ time to have a discussion about what that paradigm of leadership could look like in and whether it could work for your context. For search teams that seriously explore this staffing possibility, here are some advantages I have noticed from the co-pastors’ perspective:

Each co-pastor has a built-in sounding board. This cuts down on isolation, allows budding ideas to be more thoroughly thought-through before they are acted upon, and lets the congregation know that at least two minds are always at work on problems that pop up.

Complementary gifts mean that each co-pastor can lean more fully into strengths. There are some combinations of skill sets that are extremely rare to find in one person, causing solo pastors to have to work at times out of areas that are very challenging for them. It is very possible, however, to find co-pastors who are each good at different things. Thus more ministry areas are covered with greater competence, with less pastoral energy expended on working out of a growing edge.

Co-pastors can be in two places at any one time. Ministers often feel like there is not enough of them to go around. With co-pastors, the hospital visit and the finance committee meeting can be  covered simultaneously.

There are challenges to the co-pastor model, of course. Married co-pastors will, naturally, want to be on vacation at the same time. (I would argue, though, that this presents no more issues than a sole lead pastor being away.) And married co-pastors need to be careful that their ministry doesn’t consume their home life in unhealthy ways. On the whole, though, it is definitely worth search teams’ time to mull calling co-pastors if great-fit candidates present themselves.

As with any candidate, search team members should ask themselves what excites them about co-pastor possibilities, what support the co-pastors would need to thrive, and what educational pieces would help the congregation embrace this new-to-it way of doing ministry. These questions are opportunities for the church to grow in imagination and faith with the potential to expand pastoral leadership capacity.

Do you feel like you cannot dig your way out from under an avalanche of work, but when you make a request or propose an idea, no one listens?

Do you feel like your congregation looks to you too often for guidance, yet during your office hours you find yourself bored and unsure how best to use your time?

If you answered yes to either of these questions, you might be experiencing a mismatch between responsibility and authority. Responsibility is what you are assigned – by self or others – to do. Authority is the weight people give to your perspective, and it comes from a combination of role, experience, and earned trust. Part of developing a healthy pastoral identity and creating right-sized expectations is making sure responsibility and authority are not out of proportion with one another.

If either your responsibility or authority level is too high, here are some questions to consider:

• What are the roots of my over- ( or under-) developed sense of responsibility or authority?

• Which roots can I pull up?

• What specifically am I gifted and called to do?

• In this context, what work is truly mine to carry out?

• How might I shift, in whole or in part, the work that isn’t mine?

• What authority do I, in actuality, have?

• How can I use this authority wisely and on behalf of the most vulnerable?

• How might I utilize less obvious sources of authority when needed (e.g., a lay leader with whom you have mutual respect and who is trusted by the congregation)?

Aligning responsibility and authority is key to leading well and avoiding burnout. If your levels are out of whack, take the time to consider why that is and what you can change. If needed, I’m available to help you with your reflecting and strategizing.

Your church has invested a lot of time, effort, and probably money in a ministerial search, and you no doubt want to enjoy a long, fruitful season with your new leader. The interactions the search team and congregation have with the incoming minister throughout the covenanting and start-up processes will directly impact that person’s level of engagement and length of tenure. Consider how you can offer the following:

Motivation. Ministers who feel heard and cared for (emotionally and financially) will be eager to come to work each day and give their best. This will translate into better sermons and Bible studies and more enthusiastic pastoral care.

Encouragement. Ministers who hear not just constructive criticism but also affirmation will see the pastor-parish match as a good one. They will be much less likely to jump ship for other ministry opportunities.

Flexibility. Ministers whose reasonable personal needs and family responsibilities are honored by the congregation will be more fully present when they are at the church. They will be less distracted by the tug of other roles.

Alignment. Ministers who understand (and have agreed to) what the congregation expects will know better how to concentrate their efforts. This prioritization will result in deeper engagement and broader creativity and will make it easier for the clergyperson to empower others in their discipleship.

Small gestures of hospitality around these four areas can make ministers feel focused, energized, and invested for the long term. Constantly be on the lookout for ways to build the clergy-congregation bond.

One of the most effective ways to help your new minister get off to a fast start is to make sure everyone – minister, search team, lay leadership, and congregation as a whole – is on the same page about the shape of pastoral leadership. Here are four key areas to cover:

Ministry definition

What counts as ministry? What work is your minister doing that no one else sees? Where is the minister interacting in a pastoral/professional role with church members and neighbors beyond the church walls?

Availability

How many hours or units of time are you compensating the minister for? How much of that time should be in the office, and what proportion is best used serving and making relationships out in the community? How should the minister make up for missed time off when funerals, weddings, or other special events fall on sabbath days? What is defined as a pastoral emergency, and how are these covered when the minister is unavailable?

Priorities

Where should the bulk of the minister’s time and energy be spent? What are the minister’s particular gifts and passions? What work must be done by the minister, and what can the minister empower other staff and lay leaders to carry out?

Oversight

To whom does the minister answer? What systems are in place for the congregation to share constructive feedback? What are the goals of an annual review, and who facilitates it? Who advocates for and supports the minister?

Clarification of expectations begins pre-call, as church and candidate discern the match and wordsmith the covenant. It continues through the first several months of the new minister’s tenure, and along the way there will be many opportunities (and likely needs) for educating the congregation about what this person’s role in this season of the church’s life will look like. Doing this hard but good work builds trust between parish and pastor and paves the way for the minister's long and fruitful tenure.

Note: I wrote but did not publish this reflection one year ago upon attending my last The Young Clergy Women Project/Young Clergy Women International conference. I offer it now as clergywomen from a number of denominations and locales gather in St. Louis.

I departed my first – the first – Young Clergy Women Project conference in inner turmoil. In 2007 I was floundering in ministry. As a moderate-to-progressive Baptist, congregations in northwest Alabama that aligned with my theology were scarce, and open positions in them were rare. Yet as the spouse of a United Methodist pastor under appointment, I had no say in where I lived. Just before the conference I was called to a staff position at a nearby church. This opportunity was a huge relief to my self-esteem and my bank account. I would be in ministry full time! With benefits! My start date was set for the Sunday after I returned home from the conference at the Cathedral College of Preachers in Washington, DC.

My relief morphed into exhilaration and then plummeted to an “oh, crap” feeling over the course of the TYCWP conference. Something in me was unleashed through that gathering of clergywomen, through our study and practice of homiletics. Maybe it was my preaching voice. Maybe it was clarity about the shape of my call. Maybe it was a sense that I was settling for a position that didn’t match my gifts in a setting that had already shown glimmers of toxicity. Whatever it was, it told me I had no business beginning my new position. As I traveled home, my husband was on a retreat and unavailable to help me process. My parents could only commiserate. So I went to work that Sunday, a sour feeling in my gut.

As you might imagine, the eight months I served at that church were not pretty. (I claim my part in the debacle. I was too fearful to heed the gut-jabbing elbows of the Holy Spirit.) In the end, I was forced out. I probably would no longer be in ministry after that experience. Except…I now had a community of YCWs who had helped me claim a new understanding of my ministry at the conference. Who afterward accompanied me through the many low points of my short-lived job. Who picked me back up when I was emotionally, spiritually, mentally, and sometimes even physically prostrate following my resignation.

And so, as frantic as my inner monologue and as chaotic as my vocational life became out of that first TYCWP conference, I couldn’t imagine not going to the next one. In fact, I’ve been to all of them but one, which got pushed off my calendar by a mission trip. All of them have been great. A few have been life-altering.

The conference is (by far) my most extroverted week of the year, when I float between groups of conference participants, skip naps and stay up late for conversations – if you know me well, you get that this is not my usual M.O. – and drink up all the wisdom and laughter I can. Those of us who have been attending conferences since those early days get to check in annually after tracking one another’s family additions and losses, changes in positions, and cross-country moves on social media throughout the year prior. Those of us older young clergy women also get to welcome first-time attendees and learn about the latest practices and resources from pastors just coming out of seminary.

This month’s Young Clergy Women International conference – the organization, like my own tenure in ministry, is no longer tenuous – was my last one, as I’ll turn 40 shortly. It felt like coming full circle. I arrived at the closing worship with a settled spirit, celebrating that I am feeling more creative and productive in ministry than ever before. After the sermon, proclaimer Casey Wait asked each participant to describe herself with a single word, to tell that word to another YCW, and to receive affirmation and anointing from that colleague. My word came immediately: encourager. Some YCWs laughed and nodded in confirmation when I told them my word.  I am an encourager. I am an encourager because so many YCWs have encouraged me by recognizing and calling forth my gifts, by sharing with me about the amazing ministry they are doing, and by telling me to rock my new haircut. I am who I am as a person and pastor in large part because of this community. And I am ready to leave it in the capable hands of young clergy women, which I no longer am, and support it from afar as I re-join friends who have gone on to the alumnae group.

Bless you, YCWI. Keep on doing great things for the people of God, in the name of God.

Here are my translations of the sixth through tenth commandments into practices for congregations to covenant around when welcoming their new ministers.

6. Thou shalt encourage, encourage, encourage. Share your hopes with your new minister. Express your excitement that your minister is part of your community. When things go well, give your minister genuine and specific affirmation. That feedback provides replenishment, motivation, and focus.

7. Thou shalt address concerns directly and promptly. Don’t allow problems to fester, and don’t relay your beefs through a third party. Instead, give constructive and timely comments so that the issue can be nipped in the bud. Though it is hard to tell people things it might hurt them to hear, your minister will appreciate your courage, forthrightness, and investment in the relationship and in the church and will know that you can be counted on to give honest feedback.

8. Thou shalt pay your minister fairly. Appropriate cash salary and benefits and annual cost of living pay increases will allow your minister to focus on ministry alongside you instead of on scraping together enough money for groceries.

9. Thou shalt refrain from making assumptions, and thou shalt stop rumors in their tracks. It’s easy to make mental leaps about someone you’re just getting to know, then spread them around as facts. Instead, be curious. Ask. Use your wondering to build the relationship.

10. Thou shalt manage your expectations. Remember that this is a new city, faith community, and role for your minister, and there will be a period of adjustment. Be helpful and welcoming without monopolizing the minister’s time and attention.

Chisel these guidelines into a couple of stone slabs and keep them constantly before you, and you will have laid the groundwork for years of growing in God and serving your neighbors together.