Last summer, Alexander Lang created something of a stir in the world of vocational clergy when he published “Departure: Why I Left the Church” to tell his story of stepping away from parish ministry. BNG readers would find points of common concern as Martin Thielen shared his journey out of pastoral ministry. Of course, no one could share such a story as poignantly as Barabara Brown Taylor did in Leaving Church.
Any local church pastor could identify with Lang’s areas of clergy responsibility: professional speaker, CEO, fundraiser, HR director, master of ceremonies, pillar of virtue. Most of us would only quarrel with his list because of things he left off. These challenging, often contradictory responsibilities are subjective, difficult to quantify and often seem not particularly “spiritual.” Many balance these demands with responsibilities as spouse, parent and child.
Add to this the difficulties of pandemic and post-pandemic complications and the ever-growing political/cultural tension in our country and one might wonder why there’s anyone left doing local church ministry. And who will take the baton for the next leg? It seems seminary enrollments have more students seeking “something other than pastor” jobs rather than lead pastor roles.
Yet, here I am, this month celebrating 30 years of ministry as pastor of Towne View Baptist Church. Three decades of weddings, funerals, baptisms, Bible studies, crisis counseling, the seven-day sermon cycle, committee meetings and covered-dish luncheons. Along the way, our church has worshipped in six different facilities and two relocations. A friend once told me, “Jim, you haven’t changed churches every four years; your church has changed every four or five years.”
I never would question the faith, integrity or dedication of a pastor who took his or her leave of vocational ministry. One, I’m a Baptist. I take seriously the idea that each of us is responsible to God for our own understanding of God’s direction for our lives. Two, I’ve been there. I’ve had my Sundays/seasons where I’ve thought, “I just don’t think I can do this anymore.” By the way, my retirement fantasy is to write a trashy novel titled “Church.” I may not even change the names to protect the guilty.
What have I learned along the way that helps keep me here?
It’s God’s church
I still believe the local church is God’s “Plan A” for building the kingdom in communities. Our culture’s emphasis on personality may tempt us to believe it’s our church. I once worked with a pastor whose mantra was, “If it is to be, it is up to me.” That attitude is harmful for pastor and people.
The church is God’s people. A pastor is to serve God and serve God’s people. Yes, that’s messy. The pastor’s calling is to help the people find their vision, express their voice, discover and use their gifts. I remember a ministry leader once saying, “My job is to help the people succeed at their jobs.”
I have discovered it’s important for me to take my job seriously without taking myself too seriously. You can’t believe all the nice things that people say to you on the way out the door.
Keep learning
You won’t learn everything you need to know in seminary. Sometimes I have wondered, “Did I really sleep through that many classes?” Formal learning settings through conferences and retreats are widely available. Podcasts and streaming make travel expenses less of an issue. I try to read across a broad range of literature and disciplines. It’s also important to read people with whom I disagree.
If we’re smart, we can learn from our members. The business and educational worlds are often 10 to 20 years ahead of the church in developing new approaches to effective service.
“Some of my best teachers have been my critics.”
Oddly enough, some of my best teachers have been my critics. I’ve learned I don’t have to like what critics have to say, but if I listen I just might learn something. Developing tough skin helps me listen and learn without being bruised by every hurtful conversation. Not every reaction deserves action.
Hire younger
Working with younger ministers has helped me navigate the generation gap. It can be challenging but your church most likely doesn’t need another you. Learn their “language” and allow them to be cultural interpreters for you.
This applies to a broader concept of diversity in staffing — gender, ethnicity and sexuality differences are strengths.
This also carries over into worship leadership. It is important for members and guests alike to see “someone like them” in visible leadership roles.
Be realistic
There is always a delicate dance around meeting the needs of others and taking care of oneself. Many times I found myself tripping over boundaries rather than recognizing them. I have slowly learned to be careful that meeting others’ needs isn’t actually meeting my needs.
In Pastor: The Theology and Practice of Ordained Ministry, William Willimon cautions that “one reason many pastors become so exhausted by the demands of ministry is that they enter ministry with little basis for it other than ‘meeting people’s needs.’ As much as I find fulfillment in helping people, my best help is to point them to the Helper.”
Every church has folks who excel at having good ideas for other people to do. Oftentimes my best response to a new opportunity is simply, “No.”
“We are finding joy in doing well the things we can do and freedom in shelving some things we don’t need to be do anymore.”
I also have realized it is important to be realistic about our members. I previously served a church in a much smaller community; you could be anywhere in 10 minutes. Not so in suburban Atlanta. We have tried to schedule almost everything for Sunday. It can make for a long day but protects weeknights for families, even mine. The pandemic helped teach us that Zoom meetings can be as productive as in-person gatherings.
The pandemic also gave us a chance to simply stop doing some things. I have resisted the urge to try to do everything we were doing pre-pandemic just because we were doing it. We are finding joy in doing well the things we can do and freedom in shelving some things we don’t need to be doing anymore.
Accept help
Asking for help always has been a challenge for me. When my wife experienced an extended health crisis, it took a lay member coming to me and telling me, not asking me, “Jim, you’ve taken care of us, now it’s our turn to take care of you.”
For years I encouraged parishioners to seek the help of mental health professionals. For years I encouraged parishioners to take medication if their doctor deemed it appropriate. I finally took my own advice and found a therapist who’s great and medication that is helpful. I’ve also discovered that when I mention my therapist or my meds, our church folk are far from judgmental but rather encouraged that it’s OK to talk about such things.
One aspect of the collateral damage of the fragmentation in Baptist life is the loss of relationships among pastors. Monday morning pastors’ meetings gave those who’d had a good Sunday a chance to celebrate and those who’d had a hard day a shoulder to cry on. Mostly though, the meetings gave those pastors a sense of community, a group with which to share the struggles and triumphs of their ministries. I’ve missed that for a good long while.
In recent years, God has given me the gift of two new friends from different tribes. The Episcopal priest from a nearby parish (who is amazed that I am considered a “liberal” Baptist) and a lay minister in a parachurch organization have provided lively conversation, prayerful encouragement and, yes, friendship.
A good church
Perhaps the greatest contributing factor to my tenure has been that God has called me to serve a good church. Not a perfect church, but a good church. I have been blessed to serve with a kind, generous, forgiving, adventuresome and faithful group of people who called me as their pastor 30 years ago and still call me “pastor” today.
Jim Conrad serves as pastor of Towne View Baptist Church in Kennesaw Ga. He is a graduate of Shorter College and Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and is author of The Rainbow Revival: A Pastor and Church on the Journey Towards Inclusion.
Related articles:
Why I’ve stayed | Opinion by Tyler Tankersley
I left the pastorate while still loving it | Opinion by Cody Sanders
Don’t call it burn-out | Opinion by Todd Thomason
Sometimes, ‘resignation’ isn’t the reason clergy walk away from their ministry callings | Opinion by Mary Kate Deal