Caution, Toxic Area

I just read a report about a nuclear waste dump in the area of the presbytery in which I served for 23 years. A company had established a nuclear materials facility in a flood plain and was not all that careful about the residue from their work. Some years ago the Army Corps of engineers began a toxic cleanup of the site. Over 100 truckloads of soil were hauled away to a dumping site out of the flood plain. Suddenly the cleanup stopped with the discovery of plutonium and uranium that the Corps was ill-equipped to handle. Since that time nothing more has been done with the cleanup. The dumpsite where the truckloads of material were hauled is surrounded with a tall metal fence with concertina wire atop it. At one point, military guards were stationed at the entrance with lethal firepower.

In my experience, there are some congregations which have become irreparably toxic. At some point in the past something happened. Years of effort to clean-up the mess have only removed some of the more superficial toxic residue. Perhaps the damage came in the form of sexual or fiscal misconduct within the congregation. Maybe the damage was done as the result of a congregational split. Regardless of the reason for the toxicity, in spite of rigorous efforts to remove the toxic memories, the life of the congregation has been so poisoned a thorough clean-up is impossible.

In the story of the nuclear site and the dump site, those in the town and surrounding area are fearful of the nuclear material getting into the food supply of gardeners and farmers. They are fearful further efforts to remove the even more dangerous materials might cause the materials to become air borne. This does not even begin to address how many others downstream have been or may be effected by the nuclear materials leeching into the water supply. Yet, there has been and is no mass exodus of residents. Most remain and try to carry on with their daily lives.

In toxic congregations some members hang on and hang on praying for the day a new cleanup effort might be successful. All the while, the presbytery, conference, or diocese has stopped cleanup efforts when discovering the extent of the toxicity and stuff they are ill-prepared to handle. At times members from the toxic congregation do move to a new congregation totally unaware they carry some of the toxin with them. The toxin has entered their emotional and spiritual DNA. The new congregation welcomes them with open arms. At some point in the future the toxin begins to replicate itself in the new congregation. A congregation of little conflict becomes a congregation of high conflict as members from the toxic congregation begin to react to situations or people which remind them of what happened or what might happen.

Dealing with toxic congregations is as perplexing as dealing with nuclear sites and dumps. I know of one toxic congregation which a presbytery closed, after years of trying to guide the congregation to being a nuclear free zone, and after four pastors all left within the third year of their service in the midst of high conflict. Maybe all we can do is to encase the toxicity, surround the site with high fences with concertina wire, and warn away future members and pastors.

I have no answers for this one. I have seen it in small and larger congregations; in city, suburban and rural congregations; in highly educated and barely literate congregations. There are no instant means of removing the toxicity of a nuclear site, nor of a congregation.

What Does It Mean to "Represent?"

We live in an era of what I call radical democratization, the off-spring of radical individualization. In our civic life, we expect those we have elected to make decisions which only reflect the will of the electorate or of their special interest group. If the NRA has contributed to the election of a legislator that “representative” is expected to vote in accord with the NRA. It is too bad we have perverted the true idea of a democratic republic. Preeminent in a democratic republic is not the will of the electorate, but what is best for the city, state, or country. Rather than judging the performance of a “representative” on the basis of have they acted in my/our best interest, but have they acted in the best interest of the whole. It is possible the best interest of the whole will not reflect what I think is in my personal or group’s best interest.

Our errant civic understanding of what it means to be a representative gets carried into the church. This runs through every level of the councils of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). At the local church it is expected that elders will “represent” the interest of a particular constituency (women, youth, seniors, contemporary worshippers or traditionalist and the list goes on). The same holds true as one moves through the more inclusive councils.

In a few short months the General Assembly will meet. The gathering of commissioners, at its best, is a deliberative and discerning council. In plenary there are too many items for the commissioners to enter into extensive deliberation and discernment. The majority of deliberation and discernment takes place in the committees which then make recommendations to the plenary for vote. On the floor of the plenary, the pros and cons around the particular recommendation are presented in a two or three minute sound bite appeals. When all is said and done the actions of the Assembly will be judged on how those decisions square with “my” particular perspective. We may decry, “They sure don’t represent ME, I’m out of here to join with others who think like I do.”

As members of this particular portion of the Church we have an official corrective to the common understanding of who the elders (teaching and ruling) are to “represent.” In the Foundational section of the Book of Order we find, Presbyters are not simply to reflect the will of the people, but rather to seek together to find and represent the will of Christ. (F-3.0204) This does not mean the elders completely ignore the ways and thoughts of those who elected them or of their special interest group. That voice is a piece of the data which goes into the voting of the commissioners, but it is not the only basis for making a decision. If Moses had made decisions solely on the basis of what the people wanted, he would have turned around, gone back to Egypt, and recommitted to the life of slavery under the task masters, making bricks without straw.

When the elders gather, whether as a session, presbytery, synod or General Assembly, they are to seek together to find and represent the will of Christ. That is a far weightier responsibility. We should expect the gathered elders to represent the will of Christ rather than our particular will. When their decisions do not match up with our wants, desires or expectations, we should ask, “How is Christ speaking to the church, the world and ME in the decisions which conflict with my personal perspective?”

We do not hold the decisions of the church councils as infallible. Now though it will easily be admitted that all synods and councils may err, through the frailty inseparable from humanity, yet there is much greater danger from the usurped claim of making laws than from the right of judging upon laws already made, and common to all who profess the gospel, although this right, as necessity requires in the present state, be lodged with fallible men. (F-3.0107) It is therefore, possible that a future council may consider the same issue and reach a different, if not opposite decision than previous gatherings of the councils.

In our civic and ecclesiastical life, we must drill down to the radical meaning of who and what those we elect are to “represent.”

Heavy Is the Head Which Wears the Crown

Many years ago, when I was a pastor of a congregation in the Greater St. Louis Area, I was blessed to have a mentor/coach/friend who was willing to listen to my belly-aching about frustrations in the pastorate. Yet, often I heard his refrain, “Heavy is the head which wears the crown.” The actual quote comes from Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part 2, Act 3, Scene 1. Feeling the burden of leadership, the king bemoans, How many thousand of my poorest subjects are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep, . . . Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

There is a significant burden in being a leader. This is true for parents, pastors, and presidents. Yes, there were times when I lost sleep as a pastor. I lost more nights to sleeplessness when serving as an executive presbyter. I cannot begin to imagine how many sleepless nights presidents of our nation have lost to that burden of responsibility. In the book Executive Orders, President Jack Ryan asks lead Secret Service Agent Andrea Price who she talks to for advice and counsel. She responds, You know, they told me at Quantico, at Basic Officers’ School, that command could be lonely. Boy, they weren’t kidding. They really weren’t kidding. . ..There’s always supposed to be somebody smarter than you. The person you go to when you’re not sure. Now, they come to me. I’m not smart enough for that. (Executive Orders, Tom Clancy, G.P. Putman’s Sons, 1996, pg. 278)

There are times when we as ministers become trapped into having all the answers. The trap can be self-sprung thinking since we are seminary trained we are to have all the answers. The trap can be set and sprung by congregational expectations. Believing we are to have all the answers or being expected to have all the answers leads to sleepless night with an uneasy head. How do we avoid that trap?

In the early 1970s the Presbyterian church school senior high material, Christian Faith and Action, pointed to the necessity of maintaining a “comic perspective” about life and self. It is important for us not to take ourselves too seriously. Not only are we not to believe we have all the answer, we DO NOT have all the answers. It is perfectly acceptable to say, “I don’t know.” It is far better to say that then to make up or give an errant answer.

What about the expectations for congregational members that we will have all the answers? As we maintain a honest comic perspective about our self, we are able to help congregational members loosen up on their expectations of us. We can admit we do not know and offer two options. We can volunteer to try to find the answer. We can enlist them in joining us to find the answer, if there is one.

There are many burdens in being a pastor which can cause sleepless nights. Thinking we have to have all the answers does not need to be one of those burdens.

Are We Willing To Take a Risk?

I have been thinking about the parable of the talents in Matthew 25:14-30. We know the householder had distributed a certain amount of money to each of three servants. To one he gave ten talents (minas), to another five and to a third one. It is recorded that upon his return he was very pleased that the two with the greater amount of talents when they doubled the amount they had been given. It is recorded that he was greatly displeased with the one who carefully protected the one talent and simply returned it to the householder.

As I read this parable, I am seeing it as two were risk takers and the one avoided risk. “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground.” (Mt 25:24-25 NRSV) He was afraid of taking a risk.

I wonder what the reaction of the householder would have been if the one with ten talents had lost the ten talents in a venture capital investment? “Master, for many years I have watched and studied your investment practices. Using your methodology, I saw this opportunity as a possible way of not only doubling the talents you entrusted to me; having investigated this opportunity as thoroughly as possible, it seemed you could have realized a tenfold return. The day after I made the investment the stock shot up like a stone hurled from a sling. After a month it plateaued. Then the value dropped like a rock.  I am sorry to report the project failed and I lost your ten talents.”

Would the householder have had the servant flogged and thrown out into the street? Would he have demanded restitution? (A talent was worth about thirteen years wages for a servant.) Would he have praised the servant for the willingness to run the risk, even knowing how harsh the householder was? We know no risk, hiding the talent in the ground, produced no reward. But what if there is a big risk which produces no return?

What is the balance in our ministry between no risk and no reward and high risk with the possibility of either a great reward or losing everything? As I look around, I see the church and those who serve it as becoming more and more risk adverse. We feel we are in a desperate situation seeing our survival slipping away. All the data tells us we are decreasing in numbers and in financial resources. We cringe at the thought of the church councils making any decision which might upset those in the pews.

Our willingness to take a risk depends on how we answer the question of how the householder would have responded to the servant who lost the ten talents. Are we willing to take the risk, or are we like the servant who was afraid and hid the talent in the ground? Avoiding risk did not work very well for that servant.

Have we become idolatrous in fearing for our survival? Have we elevated survival above faithfulness? In the Foundational section of the Book of Order (PCUSA) we read, The Church is to be a community of faith, entrusting itself to God alone, even at the risk of losing its life.
(F-1.0301) Do we believe the words of penned by Daniel Towner in 1886, “Trust and obey, For there’s no other way To be happy in Jesus, But to trust and obey?”
(http://www.hymnal.net/hymn.php/h/582#ixzz2lOTR8mQr) 

Maslow tells us survival is the base in the hierarchy of needs. Fear for our survival makes us very risk adverse. The first question and answer to the Heidelberg Catechism carries the same encouragement as does Roman 14:7-8, We do not live to ourselves, and we do not die to ourselves. If we live, we live in the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord; so then whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.

 
So, in answer to the question, “What would have been the householder’s reaction to the loss of the ten talents by the servant willing to take a huge risk on behalf of the householder?,” I believe the willingness to take a risk would have been rewarded. What do you think?

What Is the Next Move?



As the screen shot above reveals, I was idly playing solitaire and it dawned on me that in life and in ministry each move dictates options for future moves. This is true in chess, checkers, baseball, football, or any other human endeavor including ministry.

In the game above there are multiple choices for the next move. Do you move the ten of hearts to the jack? The four of hearts to the five? The seven of hearts to the eight? As is clear, there are many options. Some options cut off the possibility of a future move. Others open multiple options. Hidden from our sight are the cards which are face down. Those cards are very much like the unknown responses or reactions of others involved in the congregation.

One of the things I discovered, in other games, is staring at the screen often blinds us to moves which are right there. Looking away and coming back to the screen suddenly the move is clearly there. “Why didn’t I see that before?”

As I reflect upon ministry, there are many times when the present move sets up a whole series of subsequent moves. Many times the moves may be made without thought or regard for what would be opened or closed as a result of that move. In retrospect, I wish I had taken just a bit more time to consider how the present move would dictate the next move or bring an end to the “game.”

I cannot help but ask, “How would my ministry be different if I would have taken the time to consider what the consequences a potential move might influence possible future moves?

Let Me Come Clean

I wish I had had a coach in my early years of ministry. If I had had a coach I might have avoided issues which led to unhappy endings to a succession of calls. Oh, I give thanks for executive and associate presbyters who helped in the relocation processes. But none ever pressed me to look into myself and ask the tough growth questions. I give thanks for a couple very supportive elders in those early years and who were encouraging. I knew they had my back. They all were helpful. What would have been more helpful would have been a person outside of my particular situation and outside of my presbytery who would have been a guide in taking an honest and fearless assessment of my behaviors. I am not talking about therapy (although I probably would have benefited from that also).

My first call ended poorly after about eighteen months. I was engaged as an assistant pastor with responsibilities in Christian Education and social ministry. We were having some budget pressures. I didn’t feel the amount budgeted for Christian education was sufficient. In a conversation with the leader of Women of the Church, I was very clear about my disappointment with the proposed budget figure. She told the head of staff. I can see now that my expression of disappointment was received by the head of staff as subversive. He and I had a tense conversation with his invitation and my intent to relocate as quickly as possible. A coach would have been helpful for me to see other means and places to voice my concerns.

My second call was to two congregations. One was in a small village and the other was in an open farming area of the county. I know now they felt pushed by me to be much more programmatic and they wanted somebody just to walk with them. A coach would have helped me to see the difference before it was too late. After three years, with the third year being very tense, I sought relocation.

My third call was to an area near St. Louis where suburbanization was rapidly expanding. What had been a rather staid country congregation which, years before was the result of a three congregation merger, was now facing an influx of new people and new ideas. For about the first five years things went fairly well. There were some rough spots, but we lived through them. If I had had a coach I could have had significant growth through those rough spots. The sixth and seventh years were really rocky. Turnover in the membership was rapid as job transfers and disaffection took their toll. In one fourteen month period we rotated fifteen people on and off a session of twelve. An elder could only serve one three year term and then had to be off the session for a year. The year before, we had finished a twelve month mission study. With the rapid turnover I was practically the only one with a commitment to the goals which came out of the mission study. A coach could have helped me deal with things much more effectively.

It took me three distressing endings to calls, before I finally was able, in my fourth congregational call, to begin to get some handles on being a more faithful and effective pastor, still there were rough spots to be lived through. In my fifth call, to presbytery service, which lasted twenty-three years, there were still many situations which could have been handled better with the help of a coach.

So now, I am seeking to provide coaching to ministers and commissioned ruling elders in their early years of service. I want to provide them with the opportunity to have somebody outside their context and presbytery to reflect with them upon their ministry for present and future growth. After three calls with painful endings my goal is to help others avoid many of the pitfalls into which I tumbled. Here is my website https://wayostccs.com.

Just Not Enough Time

I really hate to paint. We have been fixing up a room in the basement for me to use as an “office.” Part of the fixing up entails painting one of the walls and the water closet. I have never been able to cut in the edges around the woodwork without getting paint on it. I am envious of those who can cut in the edges without previously having taped the edges.

Perhaps one of the reasons I don’t like painting is I just want to get it done. It takes so much time to do all the prep work. Yes, I know two-thirds of the time and effort to a good paint job is in the preparation. Taking the time to make sure the surface is clean and smooth and to tape the edges makes a significant difference in the finished project.

Over the years, I always felt I had to hurry and get the job done, because time was limited due to other responsibilities. Even now, with significantly fewer pressing responsibilities, I still feel the press to “get ‘er done.” I know yielding to that press will either result in a sloppy or unfinished painting project.

To be honest that press to finish a project has not only been related to painting projects. As a pastor, there more times than I care to admit when the sermon preparation got a lot less attention than it should have gotten. I liked doing sermon preparation. I liked doing the study, allowing time for prayer and reflection, allowing time for it all to simmer and then finally coming together for delivery. Yet, I have to admit there were times when the sermon ended up being a “Saturday night special.” There were members to visit in the hospital, nursing home or at home. There was preparing for committee or session meetings. There were administrative tasks. There was community involvement. There were presbytery committee meetings. Oh, yes, there was my wife and family. The list of other responsibilities and expectations never seemed to have an end, Sunday always came around.

There are two stories which illustrate differing approaches to sermon preparation. A minister always was busy “doing the Lord’s work.” Each Sunday, during the hymn before the sermon, the preacher would take his Bible in hand and let the pages fall open. He would close his eyes, extend his pointer finger and press it down on the page. Whatever verse he was pointing to would be the text for the sermon. He would mount the pulpit and declare, “This is what the Lord has to say to the congregation today.” He would then read the Scripture to which he had pointed and launch into his 25 minute sermon. One Sunday his finger pointed to an obscure verse. He was stymied. Even after the hymn had ended he remained seated. After some very uncomfortably long moments he finally rose to the pulpit and said, “The Lord doesn’t have anything to say today. Let’s sing another hymn, take up the offering and go home.”

A friend told the story of being on an extended visit in Scotland during which he developed a strong relationship with a parish pastor. One day over lunch my friend was talking about all the things he had to do in his usual weekly duties and that he regularly would put in fifty to sixty hours a week. One of his complaints was there were so many things needing his attention he didn’t feel he had enough time to prepare his sermon and for the weekly bible study. He said there were always people coming to the office. Some came just to chit-chat and some came with problems or concerns.

After several minutes of listening to the American pastor, the Scottish pastor leaned forward and said, “There is nothing more important to be done than preparing the sermon and the bible study. My people know my first priority is preparation for preaching and teaching. Every day my office door is closed from eight in the morning until noon. My phone is unplugged. I do not receive and open the mail. I do not chit-chat with members or elders, nor am I there to solve all their issues or concerns. My people expect excellent preaching and teaching and they leave me alone to prepare for both.”

I have heard a lot of complaints from ministers, members and elders that the seminary did not prepare ministers to do this or that. “The seminaries ought to have more classes on administration, counseling, working with youth and young adults, running a committee or session meeting.” No seminary curriculum can prepare us for everything we or others expect to be done. The first and only, task of the seminary is to prepare us to preach and teach the Word faithfully.

Who controls how we spend our time? We do! We cannot ignore all the other things which call for our attention either from our own expectations or those of others. What is it we were called to? What is our first priority in the use of our time in service to God and the people with whom we minister? The sooner we figure that out the more effective we become.

Enough from me today, I have a sloppy and unfinished paint job calling my name