Pastors, your jobs are much better than you think they are
I was sitting in a fancy cafe some months ago, listening to a clergyman complain about his congregation, which was squashing every progressive idea that came out of his mouth. He was frustrated. He thought he might hate some of these people. They were ruining his faith. The situation was dire. Never mind that this congregation was paying the man a better-than-average salary, gave him a generous vacation package and, most of the time, treated him better than most princes. He would not be comforted, and the conclusion was that he ought to leave and find a new group of believers to shepherd. But as I was driving back to the newsroom, I was thinking about what a great job it can be to lead a congregation, regardless of denomination or dogma. In the first place, when a preacher stands up during worship to preach the sermon, all the eyes of the congregation are trained on the pulpiteer. If eyes had laser beams, there would be holes in the parson's head. And the eyes remain on the preacher, as if all the wisdom in the world, all the great insights about God, were pouring forth from that preacher's mouth. And, further, if one eye got turned off or wandered to the side, all the preaching would stop and parishioners would go home unblessed. Now what other occupations demand that kind of attention? Yes, certain high government officials get listened to even if they might be pulling the wool over our eyes. But there are few occupations that give the average worker even 20 minutes a week of undivided attention. I tell you, here at the newspaper, workers might get 60 seconds to plot stories and columns with a person who has authority. I know of other people, who work for secular companies, who never get a chance to talk about their work -- especially with the boss. That's the first difference -- pastors have people who listen to them. The other factor is this: Nobody talks back to the preacher. These people take 20 minutes of our time every week, sometimes delivering pabulum, sometimes giving a full blast of hostility, sometimes saying profound things, and we have to sit in our seats and listen without once talking back. Let's be honest here; have you ever wanted to interrupt the preacher just to clarify a point? "Wait just a moment here, pastor,'' you would say. "Do you mean to tell me that Jesus floated down the river in a wicker basket? Wasn't that Moses?'' And then the pastor, with crimson face, would have to backtrack and correct the earlier assertion. "Yes, well I must have misspoken or maybe I was just confused. Yes, it was Moses. Yeah, now I remember. As a baby, Jesus actually rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.'' So, you see these interruptions and corrections could go on forever and nothing would be gained. At least, under the present system, we get to hear the end of the pastor's thoughts and cheer when conclusions are reached. The other thing I've noticed is that nobody is standing behind the pastor pushing for more production. We all assume the pastor knows the deadlines and will deliver a sermon on Sunday. Obviously, it would be counter-productive to watch over the pastor's shoulders and complain about deadlines or content. Ask some of your friends who work in the secular world, and they will tell you the boss is always pushing for more work, better results and faster production. Listen, I have seen a boss here at the newspaper stand just behind a worker's back and complain about that person not writing fast enough. Talk about counter-productive management styles. That's not employment abuse. It happens all the time in jobs across America. But it never happens in a clergyperson's place of employment. Finally, pastors take a good deal of criticism. And sometimes there are groups of people out after the parson's hide. That's tough stuff. But even when a group of vipers is slithering in the weeds waiting for the pastor to make one misstep, there are other groups of people who think the pastor is the greatest human being since Jesus walked the good, green earth. In secular employment, when someone is after your hide, you don't know about it until the ax falls. At that point, the boss will call you into the head office and tell you in concerned tones that the company no longer needs your time. No groups will support you as you clean out your desk and head out the door. No one will go into the boss' office and plead your case. So, just for the pastor's information, the job isn't that bad. At least you know every Sunday someone will be sitting in church waiting to hear your thoughts. Sometimes, if you're realistic, you must think that is amazing. Clark D. Morphew May 9, 1999