It's not my church
Reimagining a ministry of not being in charge
The wonderful church where I serve - St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Salisbury, NC - is 45 minutes from where I live. I’m there two Sundays a month. Some mornings I just get an early start, or the traffic’s really light (I live near Charlotte so you never know…), and I get there before anyone else has arrived. And since I’m of a certain age, and love my morning coffee, it’s sometimes a painful wait until the next person gets there and can let me into the building - and its facilities.
They always laugh at me when this happens because it’s a situation of my own making - I don’t have a key.
This one small thing is pretty important. Because it’s a sign to me - and to the community - that it’s not my church.
I’m there to serve with them, but they decide where to go and what to do. Ultimately, it’s God’s church, of course. The Spirit is incredibly present at St. Paul’s, and they do a great job following where Jesus opens the way. I’m there to witness with them, and to offer my ministry alongside them. But I don’t speak for them, and I don’t tell them what to do. I don’t make decisions for them.
I’ve been with them for eight years and I still have no idea what their budget is. It’s not my job.
I do not think that it’s coincidental at all to say that though I’ve loved all the churches I’ve served, I have never felt so connected and joyful about any other congregation. I don’t feel any stress about serving as their priest.
I’ve spent these last eight years with them trying to figure out what it means to reimagine ministry, and I think that with their help I’ve figured out one big part:
I am not in charge.
This is not historically the case - with me or with the church.
I’ve always found it to be strange that as clergy, we’re basically employed by and ‘the boss of’ the congregation. This leads to all sorts of dynamics that don’t seem healthy or life giving for sharing ministry together.
A colleague recently called for coaching because she was caught in a conflict between her congregation and the very part-time music minister at her small church.
The music minister was older, and stuck with the same rotation of about 20 hymns, and the congregation wanted a little variety.
They turned to my friend to ‘work with’ the music director, so she (my friend) was running around finding new arrangements and more modern hymns, and dealing with resistance from the music minister and impatience from the congregation.
She was feeling stressed and frustrated with everyone.
I asked her why she was doing all this.
’It’s my job,’ she said.
I wonder if it is. Or rather, I wonder if this is a moment to re-imagine what the job is.
What if it’s the clergy’s role to encourage loving conversation between members and staff? What if it’s to just wonder out loud where God is in the midst of our disagreements?
And I wonder if maybe our job is to offer what we have - and gather what others have - in terms of our faith and hold it up for all of us to look at together?
When I first started writing here on Substack, I promised to read through my friend Michael Plekon’s book, ‘Ministry Matters’. I’ve gotten a little distracted since then, but I haven’t forgotten my promise. I’ve also kind of been paralleling what he’s said in his book - talking about ‘house church’ for instance…
'Why don't we just do 'house church''?
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The 5th chapter of Michael’s book is called ‘Rethinking the Place and Ministry of the Ordained’. This is exactly what I’ve tried to do in my Free Range Priest ministry, and with St. Paul’s.
Michael quotes Andy Doyle, Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Texas:
the ordained must transcend ecclesiastical structure - whether that of the national church, diocese, or parish - for the sake of the essential ministry of the church.
The essential ministry of the church is to gather for worship and prayer and go out into the world to love and serve our neighbor, and share Good News.
I’m very happy to give up my key to the church in service to this.
Hello Fr. Cathie. How was your silent retreat? One day I think I shall do one. I know the hardest part for me will be giving up some things I love, but I’m unclear about the status of writing, reading, and listening to music— my three favorite activities.
I like questions because they stretch my thinking and take me out of myself, maybe sometimes open to God. So, here are some: Do the members of the community feel as positive about “church” as you? How do you (all) determine what works and what doesn’t? Are you a diocesan employee? Does your community request you to lead them in worship, or in other things your ordination prepares you for? Has the Bishop given you freedom to try things, or has he/she taken the supervisory role off the table?