It's the undertow that will get you
Last summer my husband, son, and I took our first trip to the beach in three years, a long stretch away since we live in a coastal state. We were so eager to get sand in every crevice and to feel ourselves buoyed by the waves that we plunged into the ocean, noting but not getting too hung up on the red flag flapping by the beach access walkway. We were far from alone in being carefree – the shoreline was dotted with happily bobbing heads.
It was a lot of fun. It was also nerve-wracking to watch my guys go out farther than I was comfortable. The undertow was a force to be reckoned with in those red flag conditions. No matter how strong a swimmer you are, the current can suck you under and disorient you without warning.
As far back as a year and a half ago, once it became clear that Covid was not going to be a mere blip, I started talking about the impending tidal wave of pastoral transitions. The constant pivots, the isolation, the extra work, the inability to do the ministry to which they’d been called in satisfying ways, the conflicts over pandemic precautions and racial injustice and the 2020 election – all of it was going to be too much to allow some clergy to remain in their positions. And indeed, there has and continues to be unprecedented turnover in pastoral leadership.
I wonder, though, whether a tidal wave is still the most helpful image. I think back to being up to my knees in ocean water, seeing my fearless, capable husband and son disappearing under waves and holding my breath until they popped back up. That undertow is sneaky, I kept saying. It can get you no matter how tough you are. Now I stand on the fringes of congregational ministry, coaching some pastors and offering friend support to others. I know they are gifted and called. I’m familiar with the very good work they do with creativity and care. And, the fatigue that comes from continually fighting the current of all that ministry demands right now is obvious in their slumped shoulders, undereye circles, and shallow breaths. Some of their bobbing heads go under the waves and do not re-emerge in my line of sight. Instead, a few eventually come up down the shoreline at another congregation while others drift out to leaves of absence or to different ways to make a living.
This is where we are. Covid and all that has accompanied it have worn us down, and the undertow can pull under even the most stalwart among us. This is not a personal failing. It simply the reality of where we find ourselves at the two-year mark of pandemic. That doesn’t mean that everyone is doomed to the whims of the tide, however. If we can find support, we can remain one of those (relatively) contentedly bobbing heads out in the water. Here’s how judicatory leaders and congregations can help:
Judicatory leaders
Pastors – all pastors – need respite right now. They could use your help to get it. They need your permission and encouragement to take time away. They need your advocacy with and education of their churches so that they don’t fear for their jobs if they do take time off. They need your connections to find coverage for preaching and pastoral care, or at least your willingness to lead worship online or pre-record services for your entire judicatory. They need funding from you to get a change of scenery, something we could all use after two years of semi-lockdown. They need referrals to counselors and spiritual directors and coaches who can help them navigate whatever comes when they return from an extended sabbath. This is a moment when you can bless all of your clergy and their congregations through your work, judicatory leaders.
Congregations
Churches, your pastors love you. And right now they need a break from you so that they can continue their good ministry with you. Be generous with your leaders in every conceivable way. Give them more time away than usual, certainly. If you can afford to cover a retreat experience or sessions with a professional who can help your clergy tool up for wellbeing, do it. But also be lavish with your own time, if you have it. Offer to make congregational care calls. Volunteer for tech crew or event set-up. Step up to teach Sunday School, even if only on an occasional basis. Above all, be generous in your judgments of your pastors, who are undoubtedly doing the best they can under prolonged stress. Be flexible when circumstances change. Tell your pastors that you see (even though you don’t see it all) and value what they are doing.
The red flags are out, friends. Let’s all keep an eye out for one another and invite each other to come out of the battering wind and waves as needed. This is what it will take to continue being church in this ongoing pandemic.
Photo by Kai Bossom on Unsplash.