On a recent Sunday I said farewell to a wonderful congregation where I have served for the past four months. I want to leave behind these thoughts on how to greet a new pastor.
• First, honor the complexity. “Keep it simple” is for the stupid. Some are nervous about the pastor's arrival—like the church staff, whose job satisfaction is at risk, and the lay leaders who hope parishioners approve their choice.
Some are excited about the fresh start that any new pastor promises. Some dread the likelihood of change. Some are ready to pounce—maybe this one will let them have their way. And some don't care much.
Below the surface are complex feelings about adapting to a new face at the table, a new voice leading the prayers, a new message from the pulpit. The God we know is often the God whom our preacher conveys.
The wise congregation will recognize the complexity of these many responses and do two things: cut the new pastor some slack, as he or she ventures into a minefield strewn with roses, and be kind to one another in what, for many, is a traumatic moment.
• Second, let go of the past. Or, as Jesus said, “Let the dead bury the dead.” I understand why many clergy and laity are trying to shed the overhead of denomination, buildings and traditions. Too much history. Too many stale issues. Too many unresolved conflicts. Too many old letters and photos handed to the new lover with the message, I won't accept you until you scan my history and make it your own.
A new pastorate isn't an occasion for revisiting yesterday's failures while this time getting it right. Conditions change.
Yesterday's bad decision — or good decision — is done. Now it's time to deal with the consequences, as well as with fresh opportunities and needs. Replaying an old hand won't change its outcome.
It takes maturity to plow the field facing forward. The child in us wants a second chance, an extended deadline, an escape from consequences by redoing the test. We need to understand that God's mercy isn't a “do-over,” it's a new dawn.
• Third, it is time to love first, aim second. As safe as conditional love might feel, hanging back until new pastors prove themselves is harmful. The new pastors' job is to join hands with you, not to win your approval so that they can do their job. The same applies to pastors: They must love you before they know you.
People blossom when loved, they shrivel when greeted with skepticism. A new relationship cannot thrive unless both parties take the risk of entering into it. Keeping a list of the other's mistakes proves nothing except one's own fearfulness. Constantly comparing new and old starves the soil.
We need to remember that God loves first. Who are we to say “show me”?