I sit here writing this reflection with about 5 weeks before my final day at the church, and I don’t know if I’ll ever put this out into the public. But in this moment, I’m pondering, What is the pastor’s relationship to the congregation? And in these final months, I’m ever aware that my time with this congregation is limited, and all kinds of emotions bubble up to the surface with my final date approaching — emotions that were not as apparent in other times. Sometimes you don’t know what you really have until it’s taken away.
Serving in a single local church for eleven years — as a member, as the Worship Director, and finally as an Assistant Pastor — is long enough to know a congregation and the ebbs and flows of ministry. Not a week has gone by where I did not think about someone from the congregation whether it be a health issue, a loved one, a job hunt, a ministry complication. The congregation has become a part of me even though I have never formally taken responsibility over them as a lead/senior pastor would (there may have been short bursts where I may have taken the reins, but I had quickly realized it was improper to do so and had to relent). I think about them even without meaning to. When a member has a question about Sunday, I want to answer, but I’m also aware they need to figure things out without me giving direction. I’m holding myself back. I want to say it’s for their sake, but it’s also for mine.
The last two Sundays that I’ve been back at church, I arrived with anticipation. I’ve been away for various trips this summer and I was excited to be back with church people — people that I haven’t seen in a while, people who I think about when I write sermons and pray, people who have become close friends over the years. But as our time at church went on, my excitement transformed into sadness. I realized during the service that this may be the last time I would hear scripture being read by a particular person, or this song being sung by a particular song leader. Even when I was preaching, as I said the words, “I am one of the assistant pastors here at King’s Cross,” I paused. How many more times will I be able to say those words?
I feel as though going to my church is foolish. It’s like trying to woo someone who has already told me that they’re not interested. I still come with excitement and happiness just to be around them, but I know at the end the answer is the same. It’s like I’m punishing myself by going to the church I love. My sadness reminds me that I do want to be with King’s Cross, but the reality is that the church ultimately doesn’t want me to stay. But I can’t really blame it on them; I can’t be upset with them.
The church at large, as far as I can tell, is barely aware of the denominational and leadership structures that govern them. They don’t know that they have decided something by doing nothing; my hunch is that the church thinks everything is decided by the leaders. And if they do know it’s their decision, they probably also know that the consequences of challenging the elders will not be helpful for the church in the long run. For me, I want to think they do want me to stay; they just didn’t know it was up to them. Everyone feels they’re at the mercy of structures they have no control over.
But that’s both the illusion and it’s the truth. Yes, I’m sad that the church doesn’t seem to know they can keep me if they wanted to — that they’re trapped in some illusion of powerlessness. But I also need to know that power/control is still an illusion. I need to know that even if they were aware of their empowerment by the governing structures, nothing is really under our control.
In this moment where I wish there was more stability — where I wish my future was more certain and hopeful — I know that I need to let it go. I am trying to secure the future and doing that, I have to admit/realize, is above my paygrade. God will take care of the people better than I could, and God will take care of me. This is probably where I need to recognize that the relationship between a pastor and a congregation, while it is close, comes second to the relationship that the Pastor has with all of us, his people.
Jesus, this is so hard. But let your Spirit empower me that I may persevere and see that you will make good fruit out of all of this. May thy will be done. Amen.