I pretended to have health insurance to stay in seminary
Or: how 20th century systems are killing the 21st century church
As we approach Holy Week, and in the spirit of confession, I offer this story:
I was driving around the other day, having a ‘big talk’ with my husband. We have our best conversations on road trips, but if there isn’t one scheduled, sometimes our ‘dates’ are just cruising the country roads and free associating.
We were talking about the church, what it means to be in ministry, and how to do it better today, and this memory just popped into my brain from 30 years ago. It’s not an exaggeration to say I had suppressed it until this moment:
When I was in seminary, I paid a very sketchy doctor to fake proof that I had health insurance.
I sure hope the statute of limitations is up on the penalty for this. And I sincerely hope the penalty is not de-frocking. But here’s the basic outline of what happened:
It was the late 1990s.
I was single, in my 20s, and had been in the workforce for only a few years.
I already had huge student debt from college, and I took on $30,000 plus more to attend seminary. In New York City.
I sold my car to buy a computer, gave away almost everything else I owned, packed up my dog and cat, and committed myself to the ordination process (which includes seminary) with absolutely no plan B, no fallback.
Seminary included the academic program, housing, and meals. All my other expenses were covered by my meager savings, and my meager income from church internships.
I was also required to have health insurance in order to remain enrolled in seminary. There was absolutely no way I could afford this. But I had to produce a form, signed by a doctor, asserting that I was insured.
Luckily, I lived in the Chelsea neighborhood of New York City, a place that was transitioning from an industrial area adjacent to the meatpacking district to a burgeoning haven for artists.
There was lots of opportunity for ‘innovation’, as one might say, and several doctors (I assume they were doctors..) with offices down the block from my seminary, offered dubious prescriptions for various drugs and procedures in a kind of ‘don’t ask/don’t tell’ way. It was all very sketchy - and very eye-opening to good girl me.
But I was so committed to being ordained and serving the church that it was inconceivable to me that my calling would be thwarted by a piece of paper.
So I saw a doctor and he happily filled out the form for a (ridiculously expensive) fee - that still cost way less than any health insurance policy available to me.
And now I’ve been a priest for 25 years.
I never would have found my way out of the hole of debt and poverty I found myself in through the ordination process if I hadn’t gotten married (and then divorced and re-married later). I remain incredibly grateful to my former husband for helping me retire most of my debt (and keep a standard of living I never would have had as a single clergy person).
And my actual husband - I call him ‘St. Jeff, my patron’ - helped me pay off all my loans, and supports my current ministry in every way, including financially (as well as long drives to discuss the church…).
I’m sorry I lied to the church in order to stay in seminary.
I’m sorry I paid a sketchy doctor who was probably causing lots of harm to others.
I’m not sorry I used the resources I had - and then some - to follow the path I believe God called me to.
I’m kind of mad - and somewhat traumatized - that this was part of my experience of the path to ordination.
I think, while my particular story is unique (I hope!!), the basic circumstances are far too familiar to many.
This is what I mean when I talk about re-imagining ministry in the digital age. There are systems in place that are not serving anyone - least of all the church - that really need to be dismantled/rethought. It’s not anyone’s fault, but we can find better ways.
There has to be a better way to do ministry and be prepared for ministry, and serve the church faithfully - even sacrificially - than this.
I am determined to find it.
This is a great example of why many of our systems need overhaul. Healthcare, education, immigration, all have their roots in a world that has since been ravaged the pace of technological and social change. We're living by rules designed for a world we left behind before I was born. No band-aids will fix this, we need new ideas designed for an emerging world.
Remembering ordained life in the 1980s and 90s, 20th century systems were already killing the 20th century church. Adding a new and mostly undefined level of bureaucracy to the ordination process in 1970 (aka Commissions on Ministry) added to the hurdles faced by aspirants and effectively weeded out entrepreneurs. Increasing the size of diocesan staffs along with the wild inflation of medical insurance meant that diocesan assessments, which had formerly been used to subsidize new missions now were redirected to maintaining diocesan staffing. (To be fair, some diocesan mission support simply enabled congregations to remain "chapels of ease," without any impetus to evangelize and grow. One diocese at least made the distinction between missions in areas of low population that were unlikely to become self-supporting and missions in growing areas that stayed stagnant as the surrounding areas grew.) I am intrigued by what you are doing and looking forward to learning more of your ministry.