
In my coaching I am talking with a lot of clergy who are discerning whether or not to stay in congregational ministry. There are many reasons for this re-evaluation, including that they are so tired after the increased demands of the pandemic, their already big jobs are growing as staffs shrink and volunteer availability dips, they are having a tough time shifting their congregations from nostalgia and scarcity to experimentation and possibility, they are receiving and holding congregations’ anxiety about decreases in attendance and budget, and their salaries and benefits are not keeping pace with actual costs of living.
It’s a lot.
Sometimes these are resolvable issues. The pastor might go on a sabbatical and come back with renewed energy and ideas. A new initiative could light a fire under a congregation’s volunteer base. A coach or consultant might come in and guide the congregation in assessing what is and visioning what could be. A judicatory leader could provide training for lay leaders or material help for the church’s financial worries. With these interventions it is possible for clergy and congregation to remain in mutual ministry.
In other cases a change of context is what the minister needs, a fresh start in a place that will also be imperfect but that has different challenges, sets up relationships sans baggage, and provides the pastor with an opportunity to set more sustainable rhythms.
Even a new setting is not enough for some ministers who are just so crispy-fried, though. If that’s you, here’s what I want you to know:
Call evolves over time. You might not always be drawn to, needed in, or equipped for the same role or place. In this vein I tend to lean into the idea of seasons of life. What is mine to do in this season? It might be very different than what was on my plate previously and what will be on it in the future. In other words: it is not a failing if your sense of call has shifted. We are accumulations of experiences and wisdom and emotions, and the combination sometimes opens up unexpected paths.
Sometimes vocation and employment are two separate things. Pastors are fortunate in that they (usually) are paid for living into their vocations. That’s not true for everyone, and that’s ok! During seminary I knew someone who was crystal clear that she was called to be a poet. She had a gift for words, and she was occasionally compensated for those beautiful words. She paid the bills, though, by being a barista. She understood that she could be true to her vocation even if she didn’t make a living by it.
You can be a disciple of Jesus and not be a pastor. This is related to the point above, but this one is more about cultivating regular spiritual practices apart from paid work. Many pastors smush the two together, making it feel hard to do one without the other. It’s possible, though, that sifting disciplines and employment back out might improve our approach to and delight in both.
You can love people and not have their highest highs and lowest lows as the center of your work. Ministry is people heavy, and some (maybe even most) of those people are either currently experiencing trauma or acting out of long-ago but unexamined trauma. It is a great privilege to be let into congregants’ lives - and it means that pastors often carry around the heaviness of what others are dealing with. It can become too much. It is possible, though, to make people’s lives better in significant ways without being a trauma mule. Consider all the visible and invisible means by which someone impacts your day. Somebody timed all the traffic lights in downtown Tuscaloosa so that if I hit the first green, I’ll have greens all the way to South Tuscaloosa. I’m not being facetious here. My approach to my day (and thus my ability to show up the way I want for others) is totally different because of good city planning. There is no shortage of examples like this one.
Ministry skills are transferable. I often hear clergy worry about this: “will a potential employer see that I can do non-church work?” On a regular basis pastors speak publicly, write to be understood, create curriculum and teach, manage projects, lead teams, collaborate with others inside and outside the organization, develop and attend to budgets, vision and plan strategically, fundraise, advertise, engage people through social media, recruit and train volunteers, and supervise paid and unpaid workers. It’s just a matter of communicating all of these skills.
You are not limited to church-adjacent work. Many clergy interested in leaving congregational ministry jump first to the ideas of chaplaincy and non-profit work. If you are interested in focusing on pastoral care or on the cause of a particular non-profit, great! Those are not your only options, though, as I’ve hopefully demonstrated through my previous points.
You are loved and good, just as you are. No matter what you do or don’t do, you are beloved by God and by the people in your life because of your being. Remember that! Nourishing, Spirit-filled relationships are not utilitarian. They are rooted in being in and appreciating one another’s presence.
I tremendously respect those who choose to stay in their congregations and make it work, those who seek a call in another church where they can be healthy and use their gifts in ways that delight themselves and others, and those who step beyond the work they've always known to explore new ways of expressing their strengths and values. If I can offer support for any of these paths forward, I invite you to schedule an exploratory call.