A shout out to all the unintentional interim ministers out there

I had a short tenure in my first call. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the church. It was full of people who believed like I did, a relative rarity in the southeastern US. I heard exceptional preaching every week from the senior pastor, and I got my own opportunities in the pulpit. And, my office was located on a college campus, which meant I was a short walk away from all the books in the university library. Drool.

But my now-spouse lived a 10-hour drive away. As a United Methodist provisional pastor, he could not leave Alabama without setting back his ordination process. When we got serious about our future together, I was the already-ordained and thus more mobile pastor. I was ok with moving. For one thing, I was awfully naive about my professional prospects in what would be my new home. For another, the church I was departing, as wonderful as it was, had some challenges. I had followed a long-time, much-loved associate pastor who, a couple of years after her departure, was still present in many ways. She had also led the church through a significant change for which there was little lead-up process, leaving church members’ trust in one another, in the university, and in the pastoral staff iffy. While her actions were not in any way intended to cause conflict, they resulted in a number of difficult circumstances. When the senior pastor took his long-delayed sabbatical a few months into my tenure, I ministered solo through a messy situation for three months. By the time he returned, I was wrung out.

The chair of deacons (in this context, he was the key lay leader) was the first layperson I told about my imminent move. He said, “You’ve been a great unintentional interim for us.” That was a gut punch. I hadn’t taken this call to be a short-timer, and this statement dredged up some serious shame. With time, though, I saw his comment differently. I had provided much-needed consistency and clarity during an anxious time. This was a gift I was uniquely suited to give as someone who had barely put both feet in before taking one, then the other, out. This experience set me on a ministry trajectory toward intentional interim ministry and coaching, both of which fit me and my circumstances as an itinerant clergy spouse well. Today, I treasure that deacon chair’s observation and the work it began in me.

Many ministers have found - or will find - themselves in that unintentional interim role. You came into your call with great hope for a long, fruitful tenure. When you arrived, though, you found a church that either had not done the hard work of self-reflection during the pastoral transition, or that had so many issues to address that they couldn’t all be covered in one stretch, or that developed deep fissures over, say, pandemic response. You have realized that your remaining time at your church will be shorter and more intense than planned. You probably have Feelings about that. Whatever they are, they are valid.

Know, though, that just because you are an unintentional interim, that doesn’t mean your leadership isn’t incredibly valuable. You are steadying the ship during a very fraught time. You are allowing problems to surface so they can be named and dealt with. You are loving your people. You are paving the way for your successor to succeed. All of this is the Lord’s work, and you will leave your congregation better than you found it.

So I see you, unintentional interims. You are my people. I am cheering you on, and I’m praying for you.

Photo by Juliana Romão on Unsplash.