Pastoring is hard work, and there’s stuff I wasn’t expecting.
I did not exactly grow up in a manse, I was 14 when my family moved into a church-owned house, and I was 17 when my father was ordained and we had our first manse as a ministry family. I lived in all of my father’s manses for various amounts of time first as a still-at-home teen. Later I lived with my parents as a post-Uni gap-year resident, later still as a “returned to be nursed by parents through a debilitating illness” thirty-something, and finally (twice) as a ministry student living-in to do prac. I have seen my father work from home, I have seen my father called away from home, I have seen my father come home after meetings/church/visits/councils, and I have answered my father’s phone.
And still there’s stuff I wasn’t expecting.
Growing up in the leader’s house, being on the leadership team (lay preacher, elder, secretary of church council, school chaplain and a member of ministers’ fraternal in my own ministry), being the one to man the phone and hold the fort at times, I was still left with things unknown when it came to my own manse and my own ministry. I never thought I knew it all, but I didn’t know what it was I didn’t know: I didn’t know the extent of what my father did, and what he put up with, even though we’ve shared a ministry house and a love for beer in each other’s company for more of my adult life than not.
Ministry is frustrating: that’s the key thing. Yes it is rewarding, yes it is challenging, yes it is my job and therefore it is work, and yes it is my calling and therefore it is a privilege and a blessing. I suppose life for everyone is frustrating at times; it certainly was for me as a teacher and as a prisons officer, but I wasn’t expecting the frustrations to come from where they came from. My father was good, is good, at hiding his professional and pastoral burdens and at keeping confidentiality: and so he should be. I don’t feel cheated by his lack of communication of “what it’s really like”, but I didn’t know that I didn’t know.
- The Church is not what it used to be, in society and in church, and this is especially evident for me in that people don’t come at Christmas and Easter anymore. If they haven’t come during the year they won’t come even for the special occasions now. I knew that I think, I’ve been to church on the high holidays and seen the size of the congregation (or lack of size): the world has stopped going to church once or twice a year. What I didn’t know is that many Christians, people who are there many Sundays, don’t come at Christmas and Easter either. Christmas Day means a road trip to Nana’s house, so no time for church (or if church then church with Nana at Nana’s church). Easter is a long weekend, so no time for church (or if church then church near the campground). People don’t come at Christmas and Easter anymore.
- Pastors work when everyone else doesn’t. This is not a universal truth and I’m not on night-shift; and even if I were well others work odd hours too. My point is that I work and am paid to do a job where everyone else is a volunteer and their participation occurs in their spare time; which is usually on evenings or weekends. I remember a time when I was in my office planning a worship service and I rang the lead musician to check on some aspect: she asked me to ring her in the evening instead because she was “at work right now and can’t talk.” Fair enough; but I was also “at work right now” in that I was at my desk planning a worship service, and I had intended to spend that evening decidedly “not at work”. Pastoring therefore requires a lot of waiting for people to be available and fitting in around them. That is the nature of the job, however it means that deliberate attention must be paid to scheduling rest and time-off. The standard hours of time-off in Australia are exactly when my otherwise-employed-during-working-hours volunteers are available to meet up with me, therefore I must be available for them outside business hours. The other side of this is the minister’s day off: because we work on Sundays, when everyone else is not at work, ministers usually have a mid-week day of rest. This can cause consternation when church members ring during normal business hours on that day with the understanding that they are at work so why aren’t I. Of course even when it is not my day off I might be taking some time off during the day conscious of the fact that I’ll be at an appointment that evening. Try explaining that to someone on the phone: I don’t bother, I just answer the phone.
- Prayer is work. Not that prayer is hard (although sometimes it is) but praying for your congregation takes time in the day and the diary. If I’ve got to 11:30am and not typed anything or phoned anyone, have I really been “working” if all I’ve done since 8:30 is ponder and converse with God and an open Bible? Of course I have, it is what I’m paid to do, but I didn’t know that until I started doing it in my own office.