According to a 2018-2019 National Congregations Study, 43% of mainline congregations in the United States do no have a full-time (paid) clergyperson.

43 %.

That’s almost half, and the number is rapidly increasing.

The default perspective is to see a church’s lack of a full-time pastor as a step toward closure. But in the newly-published Part-Time Is Plenty: Thriving Without Full-Time Clergy, UCC minister G. Jeffrey MacDonald makes the case for revitalizing a congregation by distributing the traditional workload of a full-time pastor among part-time clergy and laypeople. Drawing on his own experience as a part-time minister and on research he conducted among various mainline denominations, MacDonald asserts that intentionally claiming this distributed model does not just save a church money. It also allows the pastor to explore other facets of vocation and the laity to reclaim the fullness of the priesthood of all believers, all the while tapping back into a leadership approach that was the norm pre-Industrial Revolution.

For the move to a part-time, paid pastorate to take deep root, MacDonald says that a church must have the courage and creativity to choose it before finances necessitate it. The congregation must develop clear expectations of both staff and members. Laypeople must have access to practical, low-cost training to draw out and build upon their gifts, and pastors must understand how to unleash the strengths of these laypeople. MacDonald calls upon denominational leaders to shift their mindsets from “part-time as a prelude to death” - which is rooted in fear and scarcity - to “part-time as an opportunity for innovation and vitality.” He also urges seminaries to re-think how they offer education, to whom, and at what price tag in order to support a distributed pastorate.

MacDonald’s premise might cause heartburn those of us who trained and planned for a full-time career in ministry - and have the debt to show for it. But for pastors who are looking for a steady (if not lucrative) income that frees them up to parent, create, work in another field, or keep a hand in ministry without burning out or feeling the burden of others’ unrealistic expectations, part-time as plenty might be very good news.

Today I’m over at the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship blog with a post outlining questions ministers and churches can use to reflect on what they’re learning during this time and who they want to be moving forward.

Photo by Jules Bss on Unsplash.

Back in the olden days (read: before mid-March 2020), every pastor new to a church would experience a twelve-month cycle of firsts. There would be your first [insert liturgical season here], your first [insert signature congregational event here], your first conflict, your first death of a church pillar. Through all of these events, the clergyperson and congregation would get to know each other’s gifts and passions and quirks much better, and hopefully this deeper knowing would solidify the pastor-parish relationship going forward.

Well, if you’re a minister who started a new call later than April 2019, you had a pandemic dropped into your initial twelve months, meaning you might not have experienced (or maybe even learned about) that obscure but much-loved Easter tradition or the unexpected level of activity in the summer months. Your cycle is incomplete. So what does this mean?

If we’re able to re-gather physically when that first comes around next year, you’ll have a learning curve. Remind people that you haven’t experienced it. Otherwise, they might expect you to know all about it, leading to hurt feelings.

You might feel really excited to participate in that first you missed - or you might not. That event could represent a return to something resembling “normal.” On the other hand, your level of commitment to it could be low.

You’ll get to probe the importance of that event you missed. You’ll have the blissful lack of awareness to ask any question you want, and you’ll have built more trust so that you can probe deeper.

Be gentle with yourself when you don’t feel too attached to what you missed, and allow yourself to grieve what you anticipated at your new call but didn’t get to enjoy. Pandemic-flavored ministry is hard for everyone, but in some ways it is hardest for those pastors who changed congregations just before or even during the outbreak.

Photo by Photos by Lanty on Unsplash.

Two months after most of the United States began feeling the sucker punch of Covid-19, states are moving at various speeds to “re-open” the economy. I have a number of feelings about this, many of them related to the dangers faced by vulnerable populations and the likelihood that we’ll all be sheltering at home again soon.

And then, there’s this: the reality that many of the people whose work drives the economy will be unable to return to their positions because childcare is so scarce. (It was virtually non-existent pre-Coronavirus in my rural Alabama county, where there was one daycare, no extended day at the schools, and no summer programming.) Schools are closed for the rest of the 2019-2020 academic year, as are many childcare centers for the foreseeable future. Parents can’t ask neighbors or family to look after kids because of the possibility of spreading the virus or because they’re taking care of their own children.

We all know what this means, right? Disproportionately, the responsibility of caring for kids in the absence of outside help will fall to women. Women generally earn less, so they’re the ones to give up their jobs when there isn’t adequate childcare. Both women and men have internalized misogyny that characterizes childrearing as women’s work. And these two issues are for two-parent households. Single parents face a range of additional barriers to work when reliable childcare is out of reach.

We simply cannot lose women’s work in any sphere, ministry included. We cannot sacrifice their innovation, their perspectives, their gifts, their tenacity, their tendencies toward collaborative leadership - especially now, when the world is topsy-turvy and demands grit and fresh thinking. I don’t have any answers for solving the childcare dilemma, unfortunately, but I would urge that women consider the following:

Accept that the ongoing crisis is hard for everyone - and that its not changing anytime soon. It would be easier to ride out a time-bound frustration, but there’s no expiration date on this pandemic. We need to make shifts, then, where we’re able.

Notice ongoing and new patterns that de-prioritize your vocation. The pandemic is exacerbating pre-existing problems at every level of society and creating new fault lines. Reflect on what is happening in your household and community so that you can make the aforementioned shifts.

Ask your partner (if you have one) clearly for the time and space you need to work. I, for one, have a bad habit of believing that if I sulk enough, my spouse will intuit the nature of my resentment. It never works.

Support other women in naming what they need. When we encourage one another, it becomes easier to say hard things and harder to take the easy (but soul-crushing) way out.

Raise your voice. The lack of available (and affordable while still paying workers fairly) childcare is a long-running problem, and we’re about to see what happens when an untenable system collapses entirely. Raise a ruckus with those who might be able to do something about the short- and longer-term needs.

Moms, I see you. You are trying to care for kids with big feelings and help them with schoolwork and squeeze work in here and there and maintain your own physical and mental health. Don’t be afraid to seek out whatever support is available to you right now.

Several clergy have mentioned lately that they are putting together surveys to distribute to their church members around easing back in to in-person gatherings. I’d like to suggest a few things to keep in mind as you create these surveys:

• Be clear with yourself about what you hope to gain from the survey. Now is not the time for busywork. Ask the questions that give you the information you need.

• Overcommunicate the purpose of the survey, the means of completing it, the deadline, and the people who will lay eyes on individual submissions. This takes more effort in a time when we cannot physically be together, but establishing expectations builds trust. That trust will be essential as you make hard decisions in the coming days.

• Don’t include anything that isn’t up for negotiation. This is very important. If you won’t budge on a matter for ethical or theological reasons, don’t ask for opinions on it. You might get backup for what you think needs to happen, but soliciting feedback could also backfire.

• Make sure the survey is accessible in a number of ways. You’re getting to be a pro at using all the ways to connect with people! Use them to distribute the survey.

• Utilize the results. This goes back to the first two bullet points. Don’t make more work for yourself - you’ve got enough - and don’t blow trust by asking for feedback and then disregarding it.

Finally, I want to give you permission not to survey the congregation about issues related to re-opening. Surveys are most helpful when they attempt to glean what the takers experience, think, or believe or what they’re willing to do. We’re currently dealing with a public health situation in which the main focus cannot be personal preference. The priority must be placed on what will keep the people in our care safe. It is ok to trust yourself, your lay leaders, your judicatory, and the scientific community in order to do just that.

Photo by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash.

I was talking today with a pastor whose church is facing a time-sensitive congregational vote around a big issue. She had thought through the most obvious options - voting virtually or by mail - but neither seemed like a fit for either her people or the subject of the vote. Working with her judicatory leader and church council, then, she developed a way for her members to vote in person. Here is what she came up with:

• Dividing the church directory into much smaller segments (10-12 voting members)

• Assigning each segment a day and a two-hour window to come to the (heavily-sanitized before and after) church to cast their ballots

• Asking people to wear masks and having extras available for those who don’t have access or who forget

• Marking socially-distanced spots on the floor in case multiple people arrive at the same time to vote (and offering reminders as needed to avoid physical contact)

• Having voters pick up their own ballots and deposit completed ones directly into a box

• Making mail-in ballots available on request, with a postmark deadline

Note that it is essential in situations like these to consult your by-laws about voting parameters, to run your plans by your judicatory leader to test for validity and proper safety precautions, and to consider all the risks involved and mitigations required. But an in-person vote might be an option - in smaller congregations, at least - for calling a pastor, deciding whether to sell property, or other big congregational issues.

Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash.

If you’ve been visiting laurastephensreed.com for a long time, welcome back. If you’re new to this site, I’m glad you’re here. I have relaunched my online presence in an effort to serve all the constituencies I serve - clergy, congregations, and pastor search teams - more effectively.

Here’s what you need to know about this new and improved website:

It is easier than ever to get to my scheduler. There are buttons in the footer (and in the main content of many pages) for current and potential coachees.

I update the blog weekly. You can stay current by subscribing to the blog or by following me on Facebook or Twitter.

You can search blog content by constituency. I have categorized all posts as applicable to clergy, congregations, and/or pastor search teams.

My newsletter is designed to be a handy resource for you. I send a monthly edition with links and tools. If you didn’t respond to the pop-up invitation extended when you first arrived at laurastephensreed.com, you can sign up for the newsletter here. (If you signed up on the old website, don’t worry, I’ve still got you on my list.)

As you poke around, I welcome your feedback. Where have I missed a link? What is hard to find? What do you need that isn't there? My goal with this new online presence is to serve you as best I can.

Photo by Belinda Fewings on Unsplash.

I am in awe of the ministry you are providing, and I urge you not to burn yourself out. We'll need your creativity and compassion over the long haul.

After writing Covid-19-related blog posts daily the week of March 16, I have shifted my focus to making brief videos and mini-posts to share on Facebook. I hope that these efforts will encourage you and offer reflection points to help you stay grounded as the Coronavirus crisis continues. If there are other ways that I can support you as a pastor and as a person during this trying season, please contact me.

Currently, pretty much everything is more complicated than it was a few weeks ago. That includes ministerial transitions. If you are deep into a search process or are working out your notice, below is a flow chart to help you think through the coverage of pastoral duties and your own needs. (Zoom in so that you can read the fine print. Alternatively, here is a PDF version.)

Obviously, this chart does not address all of the issues to consider. Here are a few more to mull:

Moving. It is inadvisable at best to change locations right now. That might mean that you stay in place and begin a new call virtually. If so, be sure to negotiate now for time to move later. If you live in a parsonage/manse/rectory, you might end up still living on the property of a church you no longer serve. (The person following you will also be unable to move, so at least that might not be an issue.) Work with congregational leadership on issues related to boundaries. Consult your judicatory leader to help you navigate the issues related to housing allowance and an accountant to find out what the tax implications might be.

Closure. How do you say goodbye when you cannot safely be around other people? Two options come to mind. First, say goodbye the way you are going about all your other relational tasks right now: by phone, computer, or mail. Second, this might be one of those rare occasions to bend the rules around a hard end date. You might be able to schedule an in-person send-off for later, but do consider how your reappearance might impact those beloved church members and the minister in place.

In all transition-related matters, lean on your judicatory or denominational leaders for wisdom. This situation is new for them as well, but they might have a sense of the bigger picture and expertise that can greatly benefit you and your sending and receiving churches.

In his book The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion, social psychologist Jonathan Haidt covers a range of themes about which liberals and conservatives disagree. One is the care/harm theme in which the two polarities differently attribute definitions and causes of hurt and assign the responsibilities of society toward those who are vulnerable. In another, the polarities take varying stances toward people with power.

Our relationships toward these two themes are running beneath the surface of many COVID-19 conversations. Who is to blame for the spread of the virus? Who is supposed to do what about it? How well are our leaders serving us in this crisis? Who is the boss of me and my comings and goings as recommendations for ever more stringent social distancing guidelines are urged?

Right now these questions are only helpful insofar as they reduce the spread of disease. Beyond that, they are ingredients for introducing even more anxiety into a system that is already highly reactive. Still, the questions aren't going away.

For leaders, then, the need to self-differentiate is more important (and difficult) than ever. If we can be with our people rather than react to to them, we'll model ways to manage self and begin to infuse the system with more stability.

What does self-differentiating in a pandemic mean? Here are some thoughts:

Listen deeply to others. When people feel heard, seen, and valued, the tension in a conversation drops.

Stay curious. Seek to understand, whether or not you agree.

Don't try to change minds. Be clear about what you believe, but prioritize the relationship over the position.

Neither under- nor overfunction. This helps distribute responsibility throughout the system, evening out the emotions.

Balance thinking and feeling. You need both, but too much of one or the other will make it hard to keep connected with people.

Stay present with people. If you can be grounded where you are, there is always the potential for care and respect.

Take care of yourself. Self-differentiation is hard work. Shore up your support system as needed.

Your leadership matters. While others panic, blame, or scoff, your self-management is helping make it possible for those in your care not just to cope, but to assign meaning to this unprecedented experience.

On the best of days, many churches have long spent too much energy on what they do not have, usually a balanced budget and pews bursting at the end caps. The COVID-19 crisis has ramped up that fear about scarcity. Not only do we not have an offering plate to pass or full sanctuaries, we cannot safely gather in person at all. We do not even have the incarnational comfort of physical proximity.

Ok. All of that is true. All of that is hard. And, it is not the only story. Abundance still exists. You might just have to look a little harder or get more creative to find it. But once you do, you can build on it in ways that will benefit your congregation far beyond the passing of this immediate crisis. Here, then, are some places where you might take stock:

Tech savvy. Who are the people in your church who know how to connect others or disseminate information in a variety of ways by technology? What platforms or equipment might they have access to that your church could use to gather constituents virtually at various times?

Connections to denominational partners. Your denomination (including publishing houses, benefits boards, and more) or middle judicatory has probably sent information out to churches. What resources are on offer? What resources might you ask about, such as mini grants to set up online platforms?

Time. Some of your church members are extra busy right now as they work from home (and possibly try to homeschool their kids simultaneously). Those who are home and cannot/do not telecommute, though, might have availability that they might not otherwise. How might they use that time to serve others, perhaps by calling or texting individuals or hosting virtual gathering?

Individual connections. Who do the people in your church know, whether from school, work, volunteer efforts, professional networks, clubs, or businesses they frequent? How might those connections be leveraged remotely to help those in need, whether within your congregation or beyond?

Individual talents. What are the people in your church good at - whether those are life skills or for pure enjoyment - and that they might teach others to do by phone or video? What can they make and share (with proper precautions) with others, such as poetry or meals or activity kits for kids?

This is not an exhaustive list, but it does provide examples of ways to think more deeply about strengths your church can leverage in a greatly changed context. Getting creative about ways to connect has the added advantage of moving your congregation forward into an increasingly digital world - pandemic or not. And it further trains us to notice where God is at work among us, a habit that is spiritually transformative.

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.

I have the joy of leading two cohorts of clergy either serving in interim ministry or contemplating making that plunge. At one of our online gatherings last week, the participants were considering the questions of what makes interim ministry distinct from settled ministry and why we find transitional work so engaging. One cohort member shared that he considers churches in pastoral transitions vulnerable in ways that congregations with installed clergy are not. He considers it a privilege to minister to churches experiencing that vulnerability, helping them feel their way to hope.

That word - “vulnerable” - put a descriptor to the privilege of being with churches in their liminal spaces. I’ve had three units of Clinical Pastoral Education, which is intensive training for pastoral care. I can make an adequate visit to a homebound church member. I can show up in a hospital room and pray. But care for an entire congregation moving through the grief and anxiety of losing a pastor is where I do some of my best work. I am moved by hearing churches talk about what their former minister meant to them, which almost always covers the full range of emotions. I get excited about crafting worship experiences and conversations that help church members re-connect with God now that the person who was often their conduit has departed. I love helping congregations, especially small or shrinking ones, acknowledge that they are loved and gifted by God. And I revel in accompanying churches as they discern their way into the next season of ministry.

If your congregation has had a long-tenured, beloved, AND/OR controversial pastor, please allow an interim minister to journey with you when that person leaves. You deserve to be cared for, and your well-being will only benefit the pastor search process, the clergyperson who is eventually called to your setting, and the mission you offer in service to God out of healing rather than hurt.

Discernment is reallllly hard.

Discernment is also reallllly important.

Here is a link to the audio of a sermon I preached two Sundays ago about the why and the how of discernment. I was in the pulpit at First Baptist Church in Memphis, Tennessee, which is between settled pastors. In my role as the FBC’s transition facilitator, I was speaking directly to the challenge and the gift of discerning along the way to calling a new minister. The sermon also applies anytime we as clergy or congregations feel the internal or external pressure just to get on with it.

There is more than one way to assess the dynamics at play in conflict. We have the intrapersonal elements: what is going on within each person? Internal struggles are sometimes good fodder for conversation with a therapist or counselor, a professional who helps individuals understand how their current reactions are shaped by past experiences. Once that awareness emerges, healing becomes possible.

In conflict there are also the interpersonal aspects: what is happening among people? I don’t know of an approach that offers more insight into relationships than family systems theory, which explains how different emotional units interact in healthy and unhealthy ways.

To be certain, the intra- and interpersonal overlap when conflict threatens to boil over, and a basic grasp of both is essential to pastoral care at multiple layers. But I think an additional filter is helpful when we’re dealing with issues at the congregational level. Otherwise we can quickly get into the weeds, analyzing who is where in the system or what each person’s triggers are, so that it’s hard to zoom back out to the big picture. Meetings grind to a halt and initiatives die because we’re so focused on managing problems at the micro level.

In my mind, then, congregations live on an x-y axis. Individuals are points on the plane. Family systems theory orients us along the horizontal axis, helping us see how one person relates to the next. The vertical axis can in turn offer us a deeper though perhaps simpler way in to focusing what’s going on by taking us from symptoms at the surface to underlying issues.

At the outset we deal with logic. What are the arguments the involved parties are making? What are the counterpoints? If conflict is not resolved through reason, through adding up pros and cons and taking the most apparently advantageous path, then something else is going on.

The next level down to probe, then, is emotion. Who is feeling what and why? How might those feelings need tending? Whose heart or relationship needs mending?

If conflict remains after working with logic and feelings, then there is a struggle for power, whether or not it’s acknowledged as such. Who has control in certain situations? How did they get it, and how do they maintain it? What would it look like to give some of it up, and who would benefit? What would it take to convince the powerholders to cede some of their stake?

This approach, adapted from Sarah Drummond’s book Dynamic Discernment, provides a more streamlined on-the-spot assessment and offers a way to think about what it would take truly to get conversations and plans moving in a helpful direction. So the next time you’re blindsided in a conversation or banging your head on the conference table during a stalled-out meeting, travel the vertical axis of reason-emotion-power, taking care as you have breadth to tend to the pastoral care needs of individuals and emotional units.

I am part of the teaching team for the Thriving in Ministry program co-sponsored by Wake Forest School of Divinity and the Center for Congregational Health and funded by the Lilly Endowment. Last week program participants gathered for the first time to mull what it means to thrive (and why it matters for that clergyperson, the congregation, and the world). Much of thriving boils down to relationships. We merely survive, at best, when our ties to others are tenuous. Here, then are some ways you can set up your incoming - or settled! - minister to thrive:

Pray for your pastor(s). Pray for them not just as leaders, but as human beings. Let your minister(s) know that they are part of your spiritual practice in this way.

Pitch in on ministries. The clergyperson is not there to do everything. Your pastor is with you to encourage you in your discipleship. Make it clear that you see your minister as a partner in service and worship, not a hired hand to do all the things.

Encourage connections within the community. Ministers are at their best when they have colleagues to learn with and vent to. Urge your pastor to join a clergy group, meet the minister down the road, or become involved with an organization, then be supportive when your pastor is away from the office for these reasons.

Encourage engagement with the wider church. Pastors need interaction with other leaders in the denomination, and that often means going out of town to be a camp chaplain or serve on a denominational committee. Building these relationships within bigger circles gives your minister a broader support network to draw on and connects your congregation to more resources.

Protect the minister’s time with loved ones. This one is so hard - and so necessary. Pastors know what they've signed up for when they accept a call to congregational ministry. And yet, they don’t need to miss games and plays at their kids’ schools, special lunches at their spouse’s place of work, and birthday celebrations with best friends. These bonds will last them long after the relationship with your church is dissolved, so they must prioritize them. They are also a clergyperson’s best daily protection against loneliness, which has not only emotional but physical health effects.

Thriving ministers help congregations answer God’s invitations to show love in a world so desperate for it. If relationships can make all of that happen, why wouldn’t we make sure our pastors are making life-enriching, life-saving connections?

Have you ever wondered how someone in a similar life station can experience the world or believe so differently from you?

Or have you ever been in a conversation that seemed benign until the other party exploded, leaving you to think, “Well that escalated quickly.”

An organizational psychologist named Chris Argyris developed a model called the ladder of inference that might be helpful for understanding what’s happening in scenarios like these.

Basically, each of us filters the world around us in a different way. We select among observable data, often without thinking much about it. We add meaning to that slice of data according to our personal experiences or cultural background. Those assigned meanings lead us to make assumptions, and we then make conclusions accordingly. As conclusions pile up over time, they solidify into beliefs. We act based on those beliefs.

The ladder of inference explains how even in a congregation that averages 100 in attendance – or in a discussion between two people – the parties can end up having very divergent perspectives. It can also help us learn to explore situations through others’ eyes. How might differences at each rung of the ladder lead to ranges of beliefs and actions? Where are potential points at which further discussion might result in understanding and collaboration?

The ladder of inference could be a useful tool for committees or teams that are having trouble coming to agreement. Start at the bottom and work your way up. What are each person’s observations? What data do they choose to work with? Keep going up. Note where there are divergences. Hearing from one another is the starting point for real collaboration.

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?

According to many studies done over the past couple of decades, clergy burnout is epidemic. At least half of all pastors leave vocational ministry for good after five years of service. (Some surveys put the number closer to 85%.) Fewer than 1/10 of clergy make it to retirement. These are sobering numbers.

Symptoms of burnout cover the range from relationship problems to poor physical health to feelings of isolation from God to anxiety and depression. But what is the root cause of this burnout? According to Sarah Drummond in Discerning Dynamics: Reason, Power, and Emotion in Change Leadership, “A leader becomes burned out not from long hours, but from working under unrealistic expectations set by others or themselves. When responsibility and power are insufficiently proximate in the work environment, burnout is possible.” This means that clergy who are tasked with making congregational shifts (or keeping a lot of people with disparate hopes happy) but who are not given the resources and authority to put changes in place are most at risk.

What can pastors do, then, to avoid burnout?

Get clear. Use every avenue available to you to find out what the stated and unstated expectations of the pastor are. Read old newsletters. Paw through meeting minutes the previous minister left behind. Know what is in legal documents. Information itself is power.

Get curious. Talk with formal leaders, informal influencers, and people who have a long history with the congregation (including those beyond the church, such as judicatory leaders and other clergy in the community). Whenever a weird dynamic pops up, probe what’s going on beneath the surface. Illuminating unhelpful norms is the first step in reshaping them.

Communicate, then communicate some more. Let everyone – especially your core leaders – know what you’re doing. Use the newsletter, the pulpit, and social media. Make your pastor’s reports available to everyone when appropriate. The role of minister is shrouded in mystery for some folks, leading them to believe you only work a few hours a week. That can prompt them to lay on the pressure even as they grab tasks. Sharing what you’re doing can reshape unrealistic expectations.

Create constructive feedback loops. Advertise when and how you hear questions and concerns best (e.g., a Monday morning email instead of a pre-worship ambush). State what kind of feedback is off limits, such as your parenting approach or hairstyle. Say how you handle anonymous notes. Setting boundaries allows you to claim – appropriately – your power.

Build support for new initiatives. Before you take any big steps, identify the people who will be most affected and get backing from them, particularly from those with the most clout. In other words, pool your power for positive purposes.

Say what you need. Could you use more time away for rest and renewal and professional development? An increase to a line item in the budget? Introductions to potential community partners? More layperson power for a particular ministry? It’s ok to ask, no matter what the response is. In fact, it’s an opportunity to share your thinking and to give folks a peek into what happens in ministry.

All of these approaches work toward more alignment between responsibility and power.

The church needs you and all your gifts for the long haul. So while the onus isn’t – or at least shouldn’t be – all on you to match expectations and authority, it’s well worth your effort to gain new awareness for yourself, shift others’  understanding, and seek more resources.

You have been working with ministry leaders for months on a new initiative. In the process you and your team have carefully gathered input, communicated decisions out in a variety of ways, and provided pastoral care to people for whom proposed changes to the way things are currently done might spark anger or grief.

When implementation time comes, however, the initiative dies on the vine. Why? Well, you’ve attended to reason and emotion, two key aspects of transformation, but it’s possible you and your team overlooked the most potent one: power. According to UCC minister and seminary dean Sarah Drummond in her book Dynamic Discernment, all three areas must be addressed for lasting organizational change to occur.

That makes sense, doesn’t it? You’ve got to have the investment of influencers for anything new to have a shot at succeeding. But here’s the thing, says Drummond: people with power often deny that they have it: “Oh, as board chair my voice is just one among many.” “I haven’t held any [formal] leadership roles for a long time.” “It’s not my fault that others look to me for my opinions.” That’s because those who acknowledge that they have power for whatever reason (position, wealth, gender, sexual orientation, race, age, length of membership, etc.) might be asked to give up some of that advantage, which even well-meaning people are reluctant to do.

Ministers must have a clear-eyed understanding of power dynamics in order to help their congregations live into hope and inhabit new realities. And they have to be able to help others see the forces at work, own where they have clout so that they can leverage it for healthy purposes, and willingly share some of their authority so that new voices can be heard.

As in many matters, curiosity is key, whether you wonder to yourself, “What is really going on here?” or if you ask others to tell you more about people, roles, and expectations to heighten their awareness as well as your own. This questioning not only illuminates previously hidden systems but also makes it possible to note what Drummond calls “pockets of possibility” where established power and grassroots energy could converge.

Who, then, holds the power in your setting? If you don’t know, how will you find out? And how will you then use that information in wise and compassionate ways to affect changes so that your church can be creative and faithful?