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By Dr. Bruce T. Marshall
April 10, 2011
The prelude that Joyce and Nancy offered this morning—Vincent by Don
McLean—has been a song in search of a sermon. It takes a while to
prepare such a piece, and I kept changing my projected topics. First
the song was to be paired with one of the sermons I did on options
in Unitarian Universalist belief. Then I tried to match Vincent with
a sermon on theological reflections about cooking. Then I changed
today’s topic to the different organizational styles of churches.
But during this past week, as Isis has just shared with us, the
candidate the search committee had chosen to present to the
congregation withdrew. This is what I need to talk about this
morning, so I abandoned the announced topic: the one about church
organization. In response, Joyce sent me an email noting that song
and sermon topic had finally aligned. She wrote, “Vincent is a song
about struggle and beauty and sadness, and I think that’s where we
are.”
That’s right. Struggle and beauty and sadness. That is where we are
now.
This morning I would like to recap events, so that everybody knows
what has occurred. I want to share the reasons the candidate gave
for her decision to withdraw. She has some specific concerns, and I
think we should hear them. Then we need to look ahead to what comes
next.
I will admit from the start that this has been a hard sermon to
write. I know what I should say, but it’s not necessarily what I am
feeling. On the other hand, I have learned from hard experience that
my feelings can run out of control. I can’t simply turn them loose
to go where they want to go. So I’ll do what I can in skating along
the edge between what I should and what I would. I ask your
understanding and patience and kindness if I tip too much in one
direction or the other.
● ● ●
I’ll start by saying that I am personally very disappointed that
this candidacy did not work out. I met this candidate when she pre-candidated,
and I thought she would be wonderful here at Davies. I thought she
could take this congregation to a level beyond what I would be able
to do. I was pleased, though not surprised, when the search
committee chose her to be the candidate, and I was elated when I
learned that she had accepted the offer. I love Davies, and I was
sure that she had the skills and the commitment and the heart to be
a wonderful minister for this congregation.
So I was troubled when I received an emailed request to call her a
week ago Friday in which she expressed doubts about coming to
Davies. In that conversation I tried to allay her fears but on
Tuesday morning I was copied on an email to the search committee in
which she stated that she no longer wished to be the candidate. More
conversations took place on Tuesday and then Wednesday, until
Wednesday evening when she told me that she was standing by her
decision to pull out—and then she sent an email to that effect to
the search committee.
When things go wrong, it is tempting to seek out somebody to blame.
We live in a time in which people seem to believe that the solution
to any problem is to blame somebody. I want to avoid this because I
don’t think anyone is to blame. The board showed enormous
flexibility in trying to address concerns raised by the candidate.
The candidate herself was seeking to act with integrity—though all
agree, including the candidate, that her timing could have been
better. And our search committee has been exemplary. They have
worked incredibly hard, honored the process completely, have
essentially put their lives on hold since this past summer to do
this work for the church. I think we owe them an enormous debt of
gratitude. Roz, Robert, Angel, Preston, Jean, Joyce, Isis. You have
served Davies very well.
So what happened? Why did the candidate change her mind about coming
to Davies?
She wrote several letters to the committee to explain her change of
heart. I also talked with her twice. Isis talked with her many
times, and there have been personal communications with other
members of the search committee. There has been no lack of
engagement here.
The first thing to say is that her decision to withdraw was not
brought about by any new information that appeared. Everything she
has cited as a concern was open and available in materials she
received last fall.
A second thing to say is that I don’t agree with her assessment, and
I told her that. My experience here at Davies does not support the
concerns she raises. But I do realize that we bring different life
experiences with us into any endeavor. What I consider red flags
might not be your red flags, and your red flags might not be mine.
Which is to say it might not be that one of us is right; one is
wrong. It’s quite possible that both of us could be right.
The primary reason she stated for withdrawing was her concern that
this congregation is not ready to fully trust a minister. That is,
open ourselves to a new ministry. This congregation has had
challenging experiences with the previous two ministers. Everybody
knows that. Her feeling is that Davies is not far enough along in
the process of healing to fully commit to a new ministry. Because of
this still-living history, her concern is that a new minister would
be greeted with less than full trust and acceptance.
What would this look like, a lack of trust in the new minister? She
cited her concern that the congregation would try to micromanage
her, not let her do this work as she sees fit. She cited what she
saw as too-explicit definitions of when she was to be in the pulpit,
of how she should spend her time. It is her interpretation that the
contract she was offered is more weighted toward protecting the
congregation than supporting the minister. She also cited finances
as a problem. She had agreed to the salary offered, even though it
represented a pay cut from her current position. But she felt the
congregation has become too cautious about money, working from an
assumption of scarcity, rather than being able to recognize and take
advantage of possibilities.
Overall, her concern is that Davies is still in the mode of reacting
against what has occurred in previous ministries. Looking backwards
rather than being able to fully commit to the future.
Ministry is an odd profession, an odd way to make a living, an odd
life you end up leading. There are elements of it that are very much
like other people’s jobs. You’re a little bit of a public speaker, a
little bit of a therapist, a little bit of a sociologist, a little
bit of a doctor, a little bit of a writer, a little bit of a
teacher, a little bit of an executive director, a little bit of a
mom and a dad. But the analogies eventually break down. Churches are
not like other organizations, and ministry is not like other
professions.
Individual ministers approach the ministry in different and often
distinct ways—at least the good ones do—so it’s hard to nail down
and define what makes one successful and another one not so
successful. In my view the difference between a successful and an
unsuccessful ministry comes down to one thing: relationship. If
there is a good relationship between minister and congregation, the
ministry prospers. If there is not a relationship, it doesn’t—no
matter how impressive the skill-set of a particular minister.
Ministry is binary: it works or it doesn’t, depending on the quality
of relationship that has developed. But different ministers
establish that relationship in different ways. There is no
cookie-cutter model to show how it’s done.
So the candidate is right that trust is essential. You must have the
support of a congregation to do this work in the style that is
yours, without feeling that people are watching and evaluating your
every move.
But I disagree with what I interpret as the candidate’s view that
this trust should be a given from the beginning. I don’t think
that’s realistic. A minister earns trust over time as we all do as a
result of the countless interactions that are part of a minister’s
relationship with a congregation. A minister is not exempt from that
reality. When a minister arrives in a new congregation, there is the
potential for a relationship, not a relationship.
All that a new minister can ask of a congregation is openness: a
commitment to giving this new relationship the opportunity to take
root and grow. The same openness, by the way, is required from the
minister: an openness to the potential relationship between minister
and congregation, nourishing the frail green shoots of life that can
grow into something strong and enduring.
Our potential candidate surveyed the territory here at Davies and
came to conclusions—whether right or wrong—that would have made it
difficult for her to approach this ministry with the openness and,
indeed, the innocence necessary to start building a relationship.
You can’t begin a ministry with the degree of misgiving that she has
expressed and expect it to go anywhere positive. And so, ultimately,
it is a good thing that she withdrew. As disappointed as I am, I
accept that this was not going to work.
● ● ●
So what comes next?
The Search Committee was elected by this congregation to identify
and present a candidate to the congregation. For as long as it
takes. There is no expiration date on their term of office. It is
quite understandable if some members of the committee decide that
they’ve done what they can do, that they don’t want to continue for
a second year. But I hope each member will consider staying on the
committee. For one, you’ve already done a lot of the hard work. For
another, this committee has come together into a strong working
group. The UUA’s ministerial settlement representative has said that
this is the best search committee she’s ever worked with.
The schedule next year will be similar to this past year’s. In the
fall, the search committee will receive information from potential
candidates—and this will be a whole new set of people. Not the same
ones as last fall because those in search last year are unlikely to
be in search again this year. From among those who express an
interest in Davies, the committee will choose three or four
pre-candidates to come and meet and interview and hear them give a
sermon in a neutral pulpit. Then from among those they will choose a
candidate to present to the congregation—at about this time next
year.
I met with three out of the four pre-candidates who came here to
interview with the search committee. I was scheduled to meet with
the fourth, but that was one of those snowy Saturdays, and I
couldn’t get my car out of the garage. I was impressed with each of
the three pre-candidates I met. Each was capable, committed, a good
minister. Davies is attracting a high caliber of candidate. There is
no reason to believe that won’t continue.
There will be another year of interim ministry while the search
committee goes about its task of identifying a new called minister.
Meanwhile, the work of the church continues. There is good energy at
Davies now. Yes, there is still healing going on from previous
experiences with ministry and, unfortunately, we are now going to
have to heal from this one. But I think we are in process of letting
go of the past, looking to the future with hope and a sense of
possibility. You will want to review that proposed contract again.
You will want to be aware of how and if reactions to previous
ministries are driving current policies. But you also want to
maintain and build upon the spirit that has been growing here at
Davies. That’s the key the future: continuing to nourish that
spirit.
When I first arrived at Davies about a year and a half ago, it felt
to me that the congregation was demoralized. There wasn’t a lot of
energy. There certainly wasn’t much excitement. Today it’s
different. People seem to be happy to be here at church, the
community is vibrant. That’s the energy we need to draw upon, build
upon. In that energy is your future.
● ● ●
Maybe you’ve had this experience. You fall in love and begin to
imagine a different life for yourself. But then it doesn’t work.
Maybe your feelings are not shared. Maybe it’s the wrong time and
the wrong place—the circumstances of your lives don’t align. Maybe
despite the best efforts of all concerned, it comes apart.
This is a terrible thing to go through—one of life’s worst. But I
would wager that most of us have encountered it at least once. So
what happens then? You are sad, and you are mad, and you are sad
again. It might be hard to imagine risking yourself to another
relationship. For awhile your world turns into shades of gray, and
it takes extra effort to do the most ordinary tasks.
But life goes on. And on and on. And somewhere in there you may
begin to catch inklings of a deep truth. At first, you’ll resist
because you don’t want to hear it. But this truth—it’s persistent,
keeps reappearing, won’t quite let you go. Until finally at some
level you let yourself hear it. You hear it and then begin thinking
that maybe it’s right. Once you really hear it and accept it, then
something unexpected occurs. You relax. You breath more deeply. Life
begins to change, for the better.
What is that deep truth? Simply the recognition that “it just is.”
Whatever the “it” —a love affair gone bad, a relationship that has
fallen apart, a dream that didn’t quite work—it just is. It’s not
what you want, it’s not what you had dreamed about: but it is. So
you take a few deep breaths, put one foot in front of the other, and
go on living. This is the universal solution to life’s losses and
disappointments, and it works here too. Take a few deep breaths, put
one foot in front of the other, and go on living.
Life has remarkable regenerative powers when we give it a chance. At
the beginning, that putting one foot in front of the other takes a
disproportionate amount of effort. But then, slowly, your energy
returns. The next step isn’t as difficult as the last, and the one
following will be even better. Colors begin to seem bright again.
Food tastes good again. And you start making new connections. After
a while, you might find those old feelings—those you thought would
never return—well, they’re stirring. Chances are, you will fall in
love again.
That’s what will happen here at Davies. You will continue the work
of this church. Things might seem a little bleak for awhile. This
year certainly comes to an anti-climactic end. Yet you go on. And on
and on. Then at some point in the future, you find yourself again
seeing the opportunities presented in a new day. Remember: we’re all
in this together. We have each other’s support and strength and
insight and caring and compassion to draw upon. We are all in this
together.
So: sadness and struggle and beauty. We find ourselves in a place
that’s not exactly where any of us want to be, but it’s where we
are.. As the closing hymn puts it, “We laugh, we cry, we live, we
die; we dance, we sing our song...together.”
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