On the Back of the Wave
I am at the age now where I have to recognize a few things about life. Some are good, some are bad, and some are just kind of there. I wouldn't call them sad things, but they aren't happy. They are just...there.
Much of those 'there' things I have found have to do with the idea of being on the back side of a wave. Like getting into real estate just as the bubble bursts. Though this is more of a professional issue, I suppose. For me anyway.
As a pastor, one of the things I used to count on was the staid and predictable nature of how the church worked. Change took place within the system but, being Methodists, it took time and committees and meetings and more time. Now, I look at my denomination and I find that I am no longer a part of the cresting wave, if I ever was. Instead, I feel as if I am on the back side of the wave that has already begun to dissipate, and those on the back of it are not surfing it but riding it into its slow disappearance.
Part of my sadness comes from the fact that I watched it happen while waiting in line.
You see, in the particular conference of the United Methodist Church in which I serve, I have observed that there used to be a particular method (hence the Method-ist) to how we operated. Much like any world-wide conglomerate, you started small as a pastor - a small church here, a two or three point charge there - until you had some experience behind you. Then, depending on how well you grew in character and ability, you moved up. As you moved up, those who were on the upper levels moved on: retirement, conference positions, things like that.
I was part of a (once) young generation of pastors who accepted the system and sought to do our very best in whatever setting came our way.
Then the tide shifted. Pastors two generations younger started usurping the system by campaigning for and demanding particular churches and settings. Straight out of seminary, they had the audacity to tell the governing system where they needed to be and they were willing to complain if they felt bored or underutilized in their setting. They had a sense of entitlement that eluded me. And I find that as I see younger pastors zooming around the conference, I wonder if I missed the boat - or if I missed the proper connection with the right names and assumed that the career of a UMC pastor had a particular flow to it.
Now, I am not a young pastor any more. Neither am I old. But I do feel as if I am on the back of the wave that was my imagined career. Perhaps, though, it isn't just that. It is as if the church itself is no longer that with which I am familiar. That, I do believe, is a generational thing. The church of my youth exists largely in my memory. The types of services and preaching and music that I loved are harder to find as more churches seek to be 'relevant.' But relevancy is a code word these days for "big." Only relevant churches are growing. Perhaps. Or they may be churches that are willing to ride any fad to keep money and numbers flowing in - jettisoning the specific identity that made the United Methodist Church something other than Presbyterian, Lutheran, Baptist, or Episcopal.
I don't see the trend changing, and I doubt the usurper generation of pastors will ever stop being that. Perhaps I am to blame for not being pro-active and aggressive with those to whom I said I would obey as superiors. Perhaps I should have risked the bloody nose and the poor reputation for a church that I really wanted.
I suppose that could be. But I find as I look back that I never set out to want a particular church. What I wanted was to do my best and be utilized by the conference based on my performance and gifts, not by how much I whined.
So I take a lot of deep breaths in clergy gatherings and work to keep my bearings. I will remain in ministry to be the best clergy I can. Wherever on the back of the wave I find myself.
Much of those 'there' things I have found have to do with the idea of being on the back side of a wave. Like getting into real estate just as the bubble bursts. Though this is more of a professional issue, I suppose. For me anyway.
As a pastor, one of the things I used to count on was the staid and predictable nature of how the church worked. Change took place within the system but, being Methodists, it took time and committees and meetings and more time. Now, I look at my denomination and I find that I am no longer a part of the cresting wave, if I ever was. Instead, I feel as if I am on the back side of the wave that has already begun to dissipate, and those on the back of it are not surfing it but riding it into its slow disappearance.
Part of my sadness comes from the fact that I watched it happen while waiting in line.
You see, in the particular conference of the United Methodist Church in which I serve, I have observed that there used to be a particular method (hence the Method-ist) to how we operated. Much like any world-wide conglomerate, you started small as a pastor - a small church here, a two or three point charge there - until you had some experience behind you. Then, depending on how well you grew in character and ability, you moved up. As you moved up, those who were on the upper levels moved on: retirement, conference positions, things like that.
I was part of a (once) young generation of pastors who accepted the system and sought to do our very best in whatever setting came our way.
Then the tide shifted. Pastors two generations younger started usurping the system by campaigning for and demanding particular churches and settings. Straight out of seminary, they had the audacity to tell the governing system where they needed to be and they were willing to complain if they felt bored or underutilized in their setting. They had a sense of entitlement that eluded me. And I find that as I see younger pastors zooming around the conference, I wonder if I missed the boat - or if I missed the proper connection with the right names and assumed that the career of a UMC pastor had a particular flow to it.
Now, I am not a young pastor any more. Neither am I old. But I do feel as if I am on the back of the wave that was my imagined career. Perhaps, though, it isn't just that. It is as if the church itself is no longer that with which I am familiar. That, I do believe, is a generational thing. The church of my youth exists largely in my memory. The types of services and preaching and music that I loved are harder to find as more churches seek to be 'relevant.' But relevancy is a code word these days for "big." Only relevant churches are growing. Perhaps. Or they may be churches that are willing to ride any fad to keep money and numbers flowing in - jettisoning the specific identity that made the United Methodist Church something other than Presbyterian, Lutheran, Baptist, or Episcopal.
I don't see the trend changing, and I doubt the usurper generation of pastors will ever stop being that. Perhaps I am to blame for not being pro-active and aggressive with those to whom I said I would obey as superiors. Perhaps I should have risked the bloody nose and the poor reputation for a church that I really wanted.
I suppose that could be. But I find as I look back that I never set out to want a particular church. What I wanted was to do my best and be utilized by the conference based on my performance and gifts, not by how much I whined.
So I take a lot of deep breaths in clergy gatherings and work to keep my bearings. I will remain in ministry to be the best clergy I can. Wherever on the back of the wave I find myself.
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