Bye-bye, Lone Ranger

Bye-bye Lone Ranger The Dover Church
January 30, 2010 –Fourth Sunday of Epiphany
Scripture: Micah 6: 1-8, Matthew 5: 1-12

Here at the Dover Church, we are part of the venerable New England church tradition called congregationalism which our Puritan ancestors brought with them from England. When they left Europe behind, one of their main motivations was to leave ecclesial authority behind as well. In theological terms, the idea at the heart of congregationalism was a renewal movement in which each locally gathered group of saints would live according to the movement of the Holy Spirit, discerning afresh in each generation the way God was calling them to be the church in their place and time. In non-theological terms, no bishops down in Boston were going to tell us what to do out here in Dover.
We have come a long way from our Puritan roots in the last 380 years or so, but we have held onto this ideal of local church autonomy. Of course, we are kidding ourselves, because we do not really stand alone. We are firmly within a tradition and don't make everything up from scratch. The United Church of Christ, which we joined in the early 1960s, offers us area ministers who assist us in calling new ministers and resolving issues which we need help with. Our hymnals, worship resources, stewardship strategies, educational curricula, our ministers, everything come from someplace: the denomination. Go to any New England congregation church in the United Church of Christ and you will be struck by the remarkable degree of similarity, even, dare I say, uniformity.
Be that as it may, for most of us, it is our local church which matters and we live in blissful ignorance of our sisters churches in neighboring towns, not to mention our association, conference, or national denomination. Whenever we have to think about them, we use that very pronoun, them or they, usually disparagingly or grudgingly, as in “that thing they want us to do,” or “the money we send them.” We are a bunch of Lone Rangers, doing our own thing and wanting others to stay out of our business.
Now that's all well and good, although I think we miss out on a lot which other more connected churches enjoy. But this is what we know and the way we've always done it, so God help anyone who might suggest changing things now after nearly four centuries. There is, however, another side to the story, which you may not be aware of, Lone Rangers that you are. That is the pastor as Lone Ranger. Once ordained by a local church and called by a local church to a ministry, the traditional congregational minister tended to go his or her own way. We could play ball as inclined. If we wanted to go to councils and meetings, we did. If we wanted to work with our area ministers, we did. Most did not, because we were busy in our own fiefdoms, being the Pope of Dover, or any town New England.
About a decade ago, right when I was starting ministry, our Massachusetts Conference began to address some serious consequences of this Lone Ranger mentality among local church ministers. The parallels between being a pastor and being fictional gun fighter are not exact, but they're near enough for a sermon. Ministry is a serious, stressful, dangerous occupation, which requires a cool head and excellent skills. I exaggerate about the danger, you think? Well, unlike the Lone Ranger, we ministers are mere mortals who make mistakes and our mistakes have serious consequences. This is about God, after all, so the mistakes we make can gut local churches, destroy peoples' faith, and cause others to leave the church in disgust, frustration, boredom or rage. In other words, the exact opposite of what we came here to do. It's the spiritual equivalent of working with dynamite, where the difference between success and failure is just about equally dramatic and irreversible.
What's more, being a pastor is often as lonely as being the Lone Ranger, because we don't have a Tanto to unburden ourselves to, to watch our backs, and to offer us sage advise when we're just about or have already made a big mistake. Who are we going to talk with? Most of the folks we spend most of our time with are the very people who are keeping us awake at night. Dumping it all on our spouses, most of whom are members of the churches we serve and friends with the folks whose confidential information we carry around, unduly stresses their faith and the joy of their fellowship.
And finally, just like the Lone Ranger, we pastors have to be on the top of our game at all times. Why? Because local church pastoral ministry is inherently contradictory. As ministers (a word that means “servant”), we serve the local church by caring, comforting and consoling for all of you. As pastors (a word that means “shepherd”), we lead the church into the future, which boils down to trying to get the very people you are caring for and comforting to want to let go of what is getting in the way of the future and moving forward, leaving behind the way things have always been, what people find comforting, and choosing something we do not yet know. Change creates tension, which can end in conflict. Too much comfort leads to stagnation and decline. Too much tension leads to conflict and either decline or dismissal. It’s a fine line.
The Massachusetts Conference discovered that there were a lot pastors out there who were burned out, failing, not renewing themselves, making mistakes, in conflict, putting their congregations to sleep, unhappy in their work, getting divorced, getting fired or quitting in anger, and generally not living the vocation to which they had been called. The figures were and are sobering and the effects on local churches were and are saddening: stagnation, decline, and conflict.
All of this may be shocking news to you. I love ministry and there is nothing else I would rather do, but everything I have said is true and has been my experience, and I am not alone. Every one of my colleagues has had the same experience. Until quite recently, we never talked with each other about it, but that is changing here in the Massachusetts Conference of the United Church of Christ.
8 years ago the Conference was awarded a $1.6 million grant from the Lilly Foundation to start a new transformative initiative called Sustaining Pastoral Excellence. You've seen bulletin inserts about this program the past few weeks. This money was used to set up supervisory groups for new ministers, where we would share all of our rookie mistakes and get advice and encouragement how not to do that bone headed thing again and how to do better in the future. I was in such a group back in the day and it saved my bacon, and my vocation, more than once. This money was used to set up Communities of Practice for experienced ministers. The one I am in now is made up of seasoned and skilled pastors of larger churches. Under the guidance of an experienced facilitator, the six of us get together once a month to process what we’re up to with other pairs of eyes, share best practices, help each other see our blind spots, talk, encourage, pray, and hold one another accountable. Most clergy groups are bragging or griping sessions, both of which I find exhausting. My Community of Practice is live giving. My colleagues are so wise and experienced, so supportive and insightful, so lovingly yet painfully honest and encouraging, that I come to and leave these gatherings deeply grateful that I am not alone anymore. And finally, this money has been used to offer workshops twice a year on subjects local church pastors and lay leaders have identified as needing help with: worship, church growth, hospitality and fellowship, stewardship, youth, you name it. A lot of what I share with you and pass off as my own genius comes from these workshops. You folks are the recipients and beneficiaries of the ideas and practices of the best and brightest minds in the church today.
As your new pastor, I have heard your stories about Walter and Dean, about Tom and John, about Bill and Amanda, and the blessings they were in your lives. You have told me about your pastors in other churches and the blessings they brought into your lives. There's no doubt about it: having a good pastor can make all the difference in a person or family’s life. You have also told me about their mistakes and the consequences in your lives and the life of this church. I know that when I'm gone you will tell stories about the blessings and stupidity of Max. I am a true, life long Congregationalist, which means for me that this is not about me, but about you. In our Reformed Protestant tradition, I am here to preach, teach, administer the sacraments, and, perhaps of most importance, "to equip the saints (that's you) for ministry." It may be about you, but we all know that local church vitality depends upon excellent pastoral leadership and that is what the MACUCC's Sustaining Pastoral Excellence Program is all about, about helping local church pastors maintain their excellence so that the churches we serve thrive as we thrive in our mutual ministries in Christ.
I never talked with you before about any of this because it felt sort of private, my own little personal blessing, a gift to me from the conference, courtesy of the Lilly Foundation. After one additional grant of $1.6 million dollars, money very well spent, the Conference is now starting an endowment to continue this most vital ministry initiative for the indefinite future. But this is not about them. It is all about you, as the recipients of this blessing, you having the pastoral excellence you long for so that each of you as individuals and all of you as this congregation can thrive in faith and fellowship. It's not about them or the money we send them. It's about us and our church of the future. Being called to ministry changed my life. Seminary both blew me away and helped me focus. The MACUCC Sustaining Pastoral Excellence Program keeps me at the top of my spiritual and professional game, being whatever blessing I am to you and helping me avoid the mistakes you fear I might just make at your expense. The Conference is going ask all of us Lone Ranger churches to fund this endowment so that the churches we love and have bless us will continue to thrive with excellent leaders in the generations to come. “What do you say, Kimsosabe? Hi-ho, Silver and away!”