St. Andrew: Christian life and an Ordination Anniversary

May Andrew, gentlest of the saintly company

   Inspire forgiveness for our grievous trespasses

That we, sore burdened by offences manifold 

   At his petition may obtain deliverance

(Verse from a hymn on St. Andrew’s Day)

 

 

Almighty God, who hast given such grace to thine Apostle Saint Andrew, that he counted the sharp and painful death of the cross to be an high honour and a great glory; grant us to take and esteem all troubles and adversities which shall come to us for thy sake, as things profitable for us toward the obtaining of everlasting life. Through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, Who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

(The Collect for the Feast of St. Andrew, Apostle, in the 1549 Book of Common Prayer)

 

 

 

November 30^th is the Feast of St. Andrew “the first-called,” as recorded in the Gospel according to St. John. St. Andrew is my “ordination patron,” since I was ordained to the sacred priesthood on this day in 1993. In addition to seeking his prayers as a companion on the journey, I have thought a great deal about my patron over the years, learning more about his particular ministry and gifts—both from the Holy Scriptures and subsequent pious tradition.

 

Perhaps known best as St. Peter’s brother, the Fourth Gospel records Andrew as having first been a disciple of John the Baptist before becoming acquainted with Jesus and eventually following him (and in turn inviting his brother Peter to meet Jesus). From this we can tell he had keen spiritual thirst and insight. Andrew listened so deeply to John’s message that he knew John was not the Messiah, recognizing (as others couldn't, it appears) John’s mission of preparing the way for the Messiah.

 

I keep this aspect of St. Andrew’s witness in mind as I go about pastoral ministry. It is so easy to become wrapped up in personalities or issues that I can miss the true message. When younger, I sometimes became quite wedded to a particular figure or movement in the Church without recognizing how such passions and loyalties can take my attention and focus from following Christ and his gospel. It is surprisingly—and sadly—easy to substitute another “gospel” for the one our Lord taught. Andrew’s witness challenges this. 

 

Another aspect of this Apostle which intrigues and guides me is his name. Andrew’s name in Greek means “manly,” or “valorous.” The fact he bore a Greek name rather than a Hebrew one (as did his brother Simon) suggests a family background operating more in the midst of the complex cultural currents of his time and place rather than in the backwaters or safe eddies of religious traditionalism. This also has a message for me. 

 

It is sometimes tempting for a person with my temperament to desire peace so much as to want to “climb back into the womb” (to borrow a phrase from Nicodemas) of religious purity and custom. This is not real discipleship or authentic Christianity—but an immature and selfish impulse to avoid the implications of following Christ. To show real maturity, true spiritual valor, we must be so deeply-grounded in Christ’s mind that we may follow wherever He leads without fear or complaint. It means being willing to take risks while not losing connection with the life-giving source of faith, vision, hope, and wisdom. This is the proper place of holy tradition.

 

This leads me to a final point of consideration: Andrew’s courageous and yet gentle nature. Tradition holds that Andrew was martyred on a cross, much like his brother Peter. These first disciples identified so deeply with Christ Jesus they were to die in a like manner as did he—emphasizing that the Christian life is not an escape from suffering but an encounter with it in Christ’s power and love, identifying more with Christ through them. 

This, in turn, leads to loving others more openly and speaking the truth in love. Andrew invited his brother Peter to meet Jesus: he didn't force or hector or shame him. The difference is at the heart of the Christianity I know and desire. Relinquishing the outcomes to Christ is a necessary part of surrendering to God--as step requiring humility and inner communion with the Lord.

 

I am thankful for having the “first-called” Apostle as my ordination patron. His witness inspires me in the sometimes difficult and tumultuous times in which we live to listen deeply, follow simply, and love courageously. While I am only a beginner in this journey, today I rejoice in the witness of a disciple who has left a record of “things profitable for us toward the obtaining of everlasting life” in his actions, words, and character. By God’s grace may it be so for us all.

 

A self-examination for use before ordinary confessions

What follows is an example of a tool for examination of conscience. Such tools can be elaborate or simple. I hope to review a number of self-examinations through this blog in the coming weeks as we prepare for what George Herbert calls the “Dear Feast of Lent.”

This particular self-examination is meant for clergy, though it doesn’t take much adaptation to make it quite useful for laypersons. It takes the form of eight brief sections with a few specific considerations in each. Some of them are expected (prayer life, for example), but others are rather more surprising (how seriously am I repelling the first suggestions of sin in my daily life?). 

Noting our responses to each and then taking time to journal or reflect on what these questions elicit can form an excellent preparation for a private confession as part of Evening Prayer (say), or (as in this case) a sacramental confession with a priest.

If we want a healthier Church with healthier witness to Christ, it is essential that we provide and encourage the use of sound tools for ascetic training. The current state of affairs suggests these ancient practices should be renewed in our day.

I. My daily prayers? Meditation? Preparation and thanksgiving when celebrating? Daily Office? Spiritual reading? Daily examination of conscience? First and last thoughts of the day?

II. My rule of confession? Preparation for confession? Contrition? Amendment of life?

III. Profit from my communions? Remembrance of them during the day and week?

IV. Administration of sacraments: Punctual? With care? Edifying?

V. Sermons prayerfully prepared? Focused on the texts? Misuse of my own personal struggles through the pulpit? Parish visiting? Care of children? The sick? 

VI. Temperance: In food? In drink? Charity? Envy? Detraction? Sharpness in rebuke? Chastity? Custody of thought? Repelling first suggestions and temptations? Desire? Looks? Words? Deeds?

VII. Have I kept my rule of life?

VIII. What about my besetting sin?

[Adapted from The Priest’s Book of Private Devotion, 1960 edition.]

Jethro's Wise Advice

Moses’ father-in-law said to him, ‘What you are doing is not good. You will surely wear yourself out, both you and these people with you. For the task is too heavy for you; you cannot do it alone. Now listen to me. I will give you counsel, and God be with you! You should represent the people before God, and you should bring their cases before God; teach them the statutes and instructions and make known to them the way they are to go and the things they are to do. You should also look for able men among all the people, men who fear God, are trustworthy, and hate dishonest gain; set such men over them as officers over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. Let them sit as judges for the people at all times; let them bring every important case to you, but decide every minor case themselves. So it will be easier for you, and they will bear the burden with you. If you do this, and God so commands you, then you will be able to endure, and all these people will go to their home in peace.’ (Exodus 18:17-23, NRSV)

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I have always found this part of Exodus quite interesting. On one level, it is intriguing that after all the dramatic events of Israel’s deliverance at the Red Sea and the struggles in the Wilderness (thirst, rebellion, hunger, battles, &c.) we suddenly have a highly personal moment with Moses and his father-in-law, Jethro (a non-Israelite), wherein Moses gets some trenchant advice. On another level, this passage helps me to maintain focus as a priest, pastor, and leader.

When I have heard or given sermons on this passage (usually at the Embertides when it is appointed to be read), the natural tendency is to treat it very much as “management,” combined with some enlightened teaching on ministry-of-all-the-faithful, seasoned with a dash of needed humility: an altogether attractive package of servant leadership very much in in the form we currently (officially) admire in the Church today. This is true and helpful, but not enough.

As I read it at Mattins today, I was reflecting on another way of looking at this passage. This involves going ‘round to the other end of the telescope and looking back, as it were. In addition to helping Moses learn the value of delegation, this section of Exodus may also be read as help in getting Moses to be about his real calling: truly leading God's people through a focused, prayerful life of encounter with God.

Jethro’s advice was for Moses to deal only with the “hard cases,” those beyond what a well-trained team of assistants could provide. This left time for Moses to pray, reflect, and listen; in the words of the text, “to endure.” This is terribly important in a modern technology-focused world where multi-tasking is implicitly valued and encouraged.

Multi-tasking is not exactly new. It is said that Napoleon could manage up to seven conversations simultaneously when in the midst of a battle or in his administrative “office hours.” I think, however, most of us cannot manage this.

And neither should we.

Parsonhood, the concept behind my approach to being a priest/pastor in this tradition, is based in large part upon the idea of role clarity.  By this, I mean the recognition that each part of the Body has its proper function and that the best health in the Body is achieved when each part is doing its work well and with proper respect for the other parts.

Multi-tasking, tempting as it may be, always means a degraded form of attention; it means not doing one’s own work well—and likely messing up someone else’s into the bargain. In the Christian Church, it often means a kind of false efficiency leading to personal and communal spiritual sterility.

Jethro’s wise advice to Moses not only opens the doors to shared leadership, but also frees Moses to do what he was truly called and gifted to do as a leader: to embody true personhood, not be a sort of spiritual factory churning out decisions and “product.”

I think leading this way requires real commitment and clarity. Doing the easy thing, the conventional path of putting out fires, chasing ambulances, and “meeting needs” is surely appreciated and rewarded in the Church today, but it leads to burn-out rather than endurance.

Parsonhood assumes ongoing, solid growth in discipleship and spiritual understanding, something impossible if we set up ministry to be primarily about crisis-management. Jethro saw this and impressed it on his son-in-law’s mind. Moses had the humility and wisdom to accept it.

My question is who or what in the Church today is taking Jethro’s part and upholding this principle?

Embertide: A Moment for God's Counsel in Ministry

The original meaning of "Ember Days" does not refer to the embers of a fire,
but there are some interesting connections between the two
in the practical life of ministry...

We are now in the midst of the Winter Embertide. The term "Ember Day" comes from an Anglo-Saxon word, ymbren, which refers to a circuit or revolution...in this case, the circuit of the year. The Winter Embertide is one of the quarterly opportunities the Church gives its members to focus deeply on the nature of ministry, that splendid word which denotes Christian service but also personal self-abnegation--the literal "minus-ing" of ourselves so that Christ may work through us (and not quite so much in spite of us).

Ministry--whether lay or ordained--requires a regular recommitment to authentic and deep communion with God the Holy and Undivided Trinity. This is available through the Sacraments and our regular life of daily prayer and study of the Sacred Scripture, wherein the Holy Spirit infuses us with divine truth and wisdom. We also receive nourishment in a loving humility when we reflect prayerfully on our life in God. This makes the Embertides a vital part of each Anglican's spiritual practice, at least potentially. Each Ember-season is a pause in the flow of life, a focused time of counsel, and an opportunity for the spiritual fire in us to be re-stoked, tended to, and re-directed towards its true purpose: the glorification of God and the sanctification of God's people.

Bishop Ridding,
First Bishop of
Southwell

Though they don't get much attention these days, the Embertides were historically quite important. One expression of this significance is the beautiful "Litany of Remembrance" from Bishop Ridding. This 19th century tool for spiritual self-examination remains one of the finest Embertide devotions ever  penned. While it was written for gatherings of clergy, it has been used (in an edited form) by many laypeople over the decades. Perhaps Forward Movement will again issue this wonderful chestnut someday.

In the meantime, here is the Litany as it was written. While a bit dated in language, perhaps readers will find it as beneficial and searching a tool for reflection as I have over the years. Each time I pray it God speaks to me in new ways...something very common to the best written forms of prayer and akin to the probing manner of the Psalms (indeed, I have often thought that Bishop Ridding's keen insight could only happen by many years of praying the Psalms daily). I have often used the Litany of Remembrance as an independent Embertide devotion, or sometimes in place of the Great Litany at the Daily Office during this season, as I did this evening.

The baptismal font of
St. Thomas, Fifth Ave., NYC.
All ministry begins at the font.

However you use it, remember that the gift of ministry given at baptism (and focused, for the clergy, at ordination) is something requiring great humility and intentionality to exercise wisely. Whether it be with such tools as this Litany, the careful review of the Ordinal, the Sermon on the Mount, the Great Litany, one's Baptismal Vows, the Catechism, or other such resources, use the Embertides as a season of deep listening to the Holy Spirit's counsel  at this moment in your life. May this late-Advent gift help prepare you for Christmastide...stirring the embers of a new season of ministry in the Name of Our Lord, Emmanuel!

Litany of Remembrance

Commonly called “The Southwell Litany”

[Dr. George Ridding, first Bishop of Southwell, who composed this Litany for use at meetings of his clergy, was accustomed to introduce it with the following words:

Seeing, brethren, that we are weak men but entrusted with a great office, and that we cannot but be liable to hinder the work entrusted to us by our infirmities of body, soul, and spirit, both those common to all men and those specially attaching to our office, let us pray God to save us and help us from the several weaknesses which beset us severally, that he will make us know what faults we have not known, that he will shew us the harm of what we have not cared to control, that he will give us strength and wisdom to do more perfectly the work to which our lives have been consecrated--for no less service than the honor of God and the edifying of his Church. I will ask you to let me first say the suffrage to each petition, and then all join in repeating it together; after which a short pause shall be made.

Let us pray.]

O Lord, open our minds to see ourselves as Thou seest us, or even as others see us and we see others, and from all unwillingness to know our infirmities,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From moral weakness of spirit; from timidity; from hesitation; from fear of men and dread of responsibility, strengthen us with courage to speak the truth in love and self-control; and alike from the weakness of hasty violence and weakness of moral cowardice,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From weakness of judgment; from the indecision that can make no choice; from the irresolution that carries no choice into act; and from losing opportunities to serve Thee,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From infirmity of purpose; from want of earnest care and interest; from the sluggishness of indolence, and the slackness of indifference; and from all spiritual deadness of heart,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From dullness of conscience; from feeble sense of duty; from thoughtless disregard of consequences to others; from a low idea of the obligations of our Christian calling; and from all half-heartedness in our service for Thee,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From weariness in continuing struggles; from despondency in failure and disappointment; from overburdened sense of unworthiness; from morbid fancies of imaginary backslidings, raise us to a lively hope and trust in Thy presence and mercy, in the power of faith and prayer; and from all exaggerated fears and vexations,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From self-conceit, vanity and boasting; from delight in supposed success and superiority, raise us to the modesty and humility of true sense and taste and reality; and from all harms and hindrances of offensive manners and self-assertion,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From affectation and untruth, conscious or unconscious; from pretence and acting a part, which is hypocrisy; from impulsive self-adaptation to the moment in unreality to please persons or make circumstances easy, strengthen us to manly simplicity; and from all false appearances,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From love of flattery; from over-ready belief in praise; from dislike of criticism; from the comfort of self-deception in persuading ourselves that others think better than the truth of us,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From all love of display and sacrifice to popularity; from thought of ourselves in forgetfulness of Thee in our worship; hold our minds in spiritual reverence; and in all our words and works from all self-glorification,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From pride and self-will; from desire to have our own way in all things; from overweening love of our own ideas and blindness to the value of others; from resentment against opposition and contempt for the claims of others; enlarge the generosity of our hearts and enlighten the fairness of our judgments; and from all selfish arbitrariness of temper,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From all jealousy, whether of equals or superiors; from grudging others success; from impatience of submission and eagerness for authority; give us the spirit of brotherhood to share loyally with fellow-workers in all true proportions; and from all insubordination to law, order and authority,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From all hasty utterances of impatience; from the retort of irritation and the taunt of sarcasm; from all infirmity of temper in provoking or being provoked; from love of unkind gossip, and from all idle words that may do hurt,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

In all times of temptation to follow pleasure, to leave duty for amusement, to indulge in distraction and dissipation, in dishonesty and debt, to degrade our high calling and forget our Christian vows, and in all times of frailty in our flesh,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

In all times of ignorance and perplexity as to what is right and best to do, do Thou, O Lord, direct us with wisdom to judge aright, order our ways and overrule our circumstances as Thou canst in Thy good Providence; and in our mistakes and misunderstandings,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

In times of doubts and questionings, when our belief is perplexed by new learning, new thought, when our faith is strained by creeds, by doctrines, by mysteries beyond our understanding, give us the faithfulness of learners and the courage of believers in Thee; alike from stubborn rejection of new revelations, and from hasty assurance that we are wiser than our fathers,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

From strife and partisanship and division among the brethren, from magnifying our certainties to condemn all differences from all arrogance in our dealings with all men,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

Give us knowledge of ourselves, our powers and weaknesses, our spirit, our sympathy, our imagination, our knowledge, our truth; teach us by the standard of Thy Word, by the judgments of others, by examinations of ourselves; give us earnest desire to strengthen ourselves continually by study, by diligence, by prayer and meditation; and from all fancies, delusions, and prejudices of habit, or temper, or society,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

Give us true knowledge of our brethren in their differences from us and in their likenesses to us, that we may deal with their real selves, not measuring their feelings by our own, but patiently considering their varied lives and thoughts and circumstances; and in all our relations to them, from false judgments of our own, from misplaced trust and distrust, from misplaced giving and refusing, from misplaced praise and rebuke,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

Chiefly, O Lord, we pray Thee, give us knowledge of Thee, to see Thee in all Thy works, always to feel Thy presence near, to hear and know Thy call. May Thy Spirit be our will, and in all our shortcomings and infirmities may we have sure faith in Thee,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

Finally, O Lord, we humbly beseech Thee, blot out our past transgressions, heal the evils of our past negligences and ignorances, make us amend our past mistakes and misunderstandings; uplift our hearts to new love, new energy and devotion, that we may be unburdened from the grief and shame of past faithlessness to go forth in Thy strength to persevere through success and failure, through good report and evil report, even to the end; and in all time of our tribulation, in all time of our prosperity,

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech Thee, O Lord.

O Christ, hear us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Christ, have mercy upon us.

Lord, have mercy upon us.

Our Father…

The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all forever. Amen.

Some Thoughts on Why Episcopal Parish Clergy Keep Failing -- Part 2

This is another entry in a short series I am writing on some of the apparently more common problems that are contributing to the failure of a number clergy in congregations. Please see the first in this series for the background and context for these comments.

3. Lack of Biblical Knowledge

What is the primary source of authority in Anglicanism? What is the touchstone, as it were, of authentic Christianity for us? Where is the guaranteed spring of renewal for the clergy? Where do we first go for sacred knowledge, insight into pastoral matters, and personal study of God's revealed will? 

If the Bible isn't our answer to these questions, we are evidence of the problem at hand.

The Bible is at the heart of our life as Christians and as clergy. The ability to draw from it freely in preaching, teaching, pastoral care, and leadership is essential. But years of over-using the Historical-Critical Method has weakened us. The gift of a faith liberated from the tyranny of our consumerist society becomes impossible when even the Scriptures have been conformed to that society, its prejudices and blind-spots. Too much reliance on only one way of "knowing" the Scriptures has cost us dearly.

In our rush to avoid being Right Wing Christians, Episcopalians have often ceded the Bible to our “adversaries.” The result has become a sad caricature of a religion of fear v. a religion of ignorance….with both extremes really being much more alike than different. Too many times, our clergy simply don’t know the Scriptures well enough to gain the strength they have to offer. This shows in our relative inability to draw from the Scriptures in teaching and preaching, aside from a few choice parts that we reference again and again because of their usefulness in emphasizing issues we support.

Episcopalians have, in the Daily Office and the Holy Eucharist, a splendid encounter with Scripture in the context of worship and personal devotion; indeed, we use a great deal of Bible in our common life and the Prayer Book is almost a tissue of Scripture. What seems to be missing for many of our clergy (and perhaps laity) is an ongoing spiritual immersion in Holy Writ in a way that leads to greater inner knowledge of God’s presence and will in our life. Without that inner and ongoing knowledge, the tendency is to base our life on what is popular, what will “sell,” or what others are saying. This means a faith that isn’t particularly resilient or deep, and it comes out in preaching, teaching, and pastoral care.

I believe that our formation for both lay and clergy members needs to undergo a major renovation of how we live with—and in—Holy Scripture, as well as the foundational theologians and mystics of the Christian faith (who themselves always are deeply knowledgeable in Sacred Scripture). We need more Bible knowledge (in an authentic Anglican manner) and less talking around the Scriptures.

4. Lack of knowledge about how to manage a small business

Most congregations function at some level as businesses. With so many Episcopal clergy having either no experience with or a very negative view of  business, it can be easy to dismiss this fact and try to treat the parish as something like a government office or an academic entity, where the sources of income and the plans for operations are remote and the administrative responsibilities fall on someone else.

I have often been grateful for the modicum of understanding I gained growing up of how a business relies on the goodwill of its staff and customers, as well as its relationships with various vendors (once more, we are back in the realm of how to make and sustain relationships). I also have found it very important to listen to those parishioners who are involved in business and what they do in order to make operations efficient, transparent, renewed, and healthy.

It has always been a temptation to try and wash one’s hands of the “dirty work” of dealing with staffing, monitoring finances, understanding budgets, looking for ways to cut overhead where possible (yet not damage the primary mission), etc. But this doesn’t work for long. Inattention to this dimension of parochial life will lead to crippling disorder in a short time.

It is often noted that most types of clergy training in the Episcopal Church contain no actual teaching or practicum in the administration of a parish or the running of business operations. This is just plain foolish. I remember suddenly having to deal with forms, budgets, planning instruments, and various decisions related to maintenance of a building and grounds. There were skilled people in the congregation to help, and I tried to remember that it wasn’t all up to me…but being a leader means, at the least, one must know how to delegate appropriately and to lead folks as a team towards a decision or a plan.

Shared ministry and an emphasis on The Ministry of All the Baptized has often been used as an excuse to avoid making the issue of business management a part of clergy training. I see this as a cop-out. When things go sideways in a congregation (the death of a long-time member who “did everything” about the building, the loss of a treasurer who alone understood the ins-and-outs of church finances, or the suspicion that someone in the parish is embezzling funds), it won’t do for the cleric to say “that’s not my department.” While the clergy cannot (and should not) solve every problem and control each outcome, abandonment of leadership is not an option and contrary to our ordination vows. Just knowing where to turn for help is often the most important step.

I am personally pretty weak in this area. But, knowing this means I have to work hard to find the best people in the parish to help, talk to people in other parishes or church settings about how to manage effectively, and accept responsibility when things go wrong. Most people do not expect clergy to be great managers or administrators…but they do expect us do our part and not act like it is beneath us.

I would recommend that some part of clergy discernment and formation be focussed on this aspect or ordained life...even if a person does not currently feel called to parish ministry. It is simply too pervasive a part of Church life to be ignored as we do currently. The costs, in terms of people, parishes, and dioceses, are too great when this dimension is undervalued.

5. Preaching canned sermons

Preaching is a hard art. It takes years for most clergy to come to a way of preaching that is authentic to themselves and yet effective for the congregation. For some, it will always be a real chore to give sermons (and for many of our victims, a real chore at times to hear them). Yet, there is no denying that preaching is one of the single most important and instrumental ways clergy lead a community and grow as disciples themselves. This is why preaching “canned” sermons from a book or a web site is a dangerous practice.

Preaching a simple sermon on the Scriptures of the day issuing from one’s own personal spiritual struggles and experience is far better than a tour-de-force by a Big Name Preacher read straight from the Internet (or tweaked here and there and read as one's own--which, sadly, appears to happen). What most people want is an encounter with God in Word and Life. Preaching from someone else’s writing over and over tells a congregation that the clergy’s faith is essentially second-hand. It undermines that cleric’s ability as Jesus's servant and speak “with authority,” “not as the scribes.” Indeed, I have heard some clergy speak about preaching another's work in a way that seems little short of plagiarism. We have to do better.

I’m not talking about becoming some sort of Star of the Pulpit—actually, far from it. Many of our sermons will end up being effective for only a few people in church that day. Sometimes our sermons are just plain duds (leading to some humility, perhaps?). Yet, occasionally, our spiritual wrestlings with the texts and prayer are blessed by God and lead to insights that bring us to an exciting new place, a realization of God’s love, power, forgiveness, holiness, call to action, and much more. The sermons that arise from this personal struggle in faith are what speak to most people, inviting them into just that activity themselves, connecting their own journey to the wider life of the Church, helping heal old wounds, encouraging repentance, stoking hope and faith when it is running low, offering new tools for living and sharing the Christian witness…the list is endless.

The point is that being even a fairly mediocre preacher from our own experience is almost always better and more inspiring than being a peddler of other’s work. Reading and listening to sermons by others is a great and time-honored way to deepen, expand, and challenge our own way of preaching: but real preaching is a real labor: it is not meant to be easy, systematic, or "neat." It issues from God's love and yet also a trial of the soul. 

Using canned sermons—or developing a cycle of sermons once and then trotting them out for recitation each time those texts are used again—is a practice that should be confined to emergencies. The congregation comes to worship the living God through the living Word, part of which is interpretation by a living ordained disciple. Fresh, not canned, is best: this goes for preaching as well as eating.

Some Thoughts on Why Episcopal Parish Clergy Keep Failing -- Part 1

As I chat with lay and clergy members of my diocese and elsewhere, one of the disturbing pictures that has emerged in the last dozen or so years is what I call Failed Cleric Syndrome (FCS).

I don’t mean a moral or mortal failure; rather, I am using the word in the sense of collapse, breakdown, and frustration. I'm talking about ministries that keep experiencing one “bad call” after another, and where the clergy person in question seems unable to choose aright in succeeding calls, usually assigning almost all the blame to the congregations involved, preceding clergy, the bishop, etc.

The failures that concern me here are not the Really Big sins and vices that have always plagued the ordained and call for immediate action or removal. Nor am I focusing on the issues of addiction, mental illness, personality disorders, &c. that plague many—though these matters do intersect with some of what I will write about.

I am speaking here of some ways a cleric can make the often difficult situation of parish ministry much, much harder than necessary. If parish and diocesan ministry committees and commissions, rectors/vicars, and Bishops were more attuned to these things the rate of failed calls would likely decline, with corresponding benefit to congregations, clergy, and dioceses. In fact, the entire Church would be blessed if there were fewer such situations, as they give rise to  an ever-increasing level of frustration, cynicism, and bad feeling in congregation after congregation.

The reason I am writing about this when no-one asked me is that I am growing very concerned about the mounting number of failed calls and hurt clergy/congregations. How many tearful lunches and conversations have I had with colleagues who find themselves in terrible situations, unable to see any way out, yet whose perceptions and actions are almost guaranteed to make the situation worse? How many times have relatively new clergy been assigned to parishes that require considerable skill in leadership—clergy whose formation has been of a kind and duration that makes patient, grounded-yet-flexible, creative response almost impossible. I believe this to be wrong and unjust to all involved.

To top it off, the general culture in our tradition seems to have decided that the best solution to such situations is to “blame and move on” after a relatively short time, creating a sort of morbid game of musical chairs, with fewer and fewer viable positions—and a considerable number of embittered clergy and congregations who don’t seem to learn very much from their sorrows.

It isn't that those with FCS are unaware of a problem. Such clergy often go to trainings, read books, articles, and blogs—but frequently for the wrong reasons. They are most interested to find out why other people failed them, or what whizz-bang technique, like a newly-discovered vitamin, is missing from their own personal arsenal of skills (and will thus make it "all better" with a minimum of actual alteration and growth). What is needed is a deeper appraisal, a willingness to see what needs radical renewal or completion on the level of our being, not just our doings.

I don’t personally see failure as a bad word, in and of itself. I tend to think we don’t learn much from success, but can learn a great deal from failure. But, if we cannot deal with failure openly, honestly, and with a sense of humility, it means we will not be learning much at all.

Friends across the Episcopal Church tell me that what I am styling the FCS phenomenon continues to mount in parish after parish, diocese after diocese, but that the responses from “on high” seem calculated only to deepen the problem, focused as they tend to be on techniques or ideals that avoid the root causes. We have talked ourselves into a corner; more "techniques" won't fix things. They might help here and there, but this is more a matter of fundamental principles.

I am also very conscious as I write this that I am hardly a model cleric. Indeed, as I go through the list of FCS symptoms, I cannot help but see that some of this symptomology has been with me from the start, while others come and go.

There is only One Great High Priest who is perfect and without flaw: Jesus Christ our Lord. All other Christian priesthood is derivative from him, and there are no perfect lay or clergy persons—and the one writing this is almost painfully aware of this on a personal level. My concern is about saving the Church and its ministry much pain...and perhaps putting the focus back on our mission rather than on retrenchment resulting from FCS.

The degree to which our ministries point to Christ, glorifying him, is the degree to which a ministry is whole and holy. There comes a point when having too many symptoms of FCS begins to obscure the view of Christ Jesus in our ministries. What I am writing about are some of these symptoms, especially those having to do with elemental skills in faith, relationships, and leadership.

This is not meant to be an exercise in egotism, but the fruit of 20+ years of ordained experiences…my own and others’. It should go without saying that many clergy do not suffer from FCS. It is entirely possible that I am totally wrong about everything I am writing. That is for others to decide. Obviously, these are personal opinions, perhaps worth what you have paid for them. But, the heartache I witness seems to call for a response, and this pastor wants to think aloud about it as well as pray about it. So, whatever you might think or feel, here goes…

1. Lukewarm discipleship

Of all the symptoms of FCS, this is to me the most significant and common. 

When a pastor is pretty clearly neither a committed believer nor a transmitter of the “saving message” of the Gospel, the community suffers. Christians generally do not come to church to prop up an institution—though some parishes try to operate this way. For the most part, we come to church to worship God and share in community, to be forgiven, inspired, connected, taught, healed, nourished, and sent out renewed to “love and serve” God and neighbor. In Anglicanism, clergy are central to this—like it or not.

When the discipleship of the pastor is weak for a long while the effect is to dampen the discipleship of the flock. The stronger disciples in the parish will gradually have to go to other places for nourishment, dividing their loyalties and eventually withdrawing support. The weaker disciples will find comfort—for a while—in their pastor’s non-committal stance; but eventually the lack of challenge and experience will tell. Attendance at worship and formation offerings declines; leadership then decides to pare offerings because “no one is coming,” and the cycle becomes a sort of reverse feedback loop of retrenchment.

It is not that every cleric has to be “on fire” for God all the time; not at all. Our humanity is and must be central to our calling, and there are times when we are tired, hurt, or very needy disciples. But it is essential that the people—on the whole—see in their pastor the life of faithfulness, wrestling, and raw discipleship that shows courage, commitment, and clarity about where the source for Christian life, teaching, and practice lay: Jesus Christ our Lord, in the power of the Holy Spirit. We will all manifest this in somewhat different ways, but manifest it we must.

FCS often becomes quite clear when some group, cause, or identity secondary to the Gospel overtakes our primary identity as disciples. The late Terry Fullam had a saying that went something like this: “When Christ is at the center, everything else is peripheral; when anything else is at the center, Christ becomes peripheral.” This is a very useful thing to hold onto in ordained life.

Churches where discipleship is being lived out in some clear way by the clergy are churches where the culture, conversation, and capacity for discipleship in all members likely flourishes. Such communities can address a wide variety of issues and concerns in ministry that finds its power in the Risen Christ. To minister from some other source—no matter how energizing—is unsustainable and often leads to damaging results.

Much like how children at home can see the true state of their parent’s marriage, those we serve can see very quickly in our manner of leading liturgy, sermons, pastoral care, writings, and conversation whether we are active disciples—however poor, fragile, or unskilled—or just institutional hacks. If the former, they will have more patience with us and indeed often labor alongside us to make up our lack; if the latter, they will tend either to collude with us in turning the church into some sort of social, political, or elitist club, or reject us for the frauds we have become. Either way, we are not living up to our vows, and our tenure will be made much harder and more conflicted.

2. An inability to sustain healthy relationships

This is another of the major symptoms of FCS, and is surprisingly common. I have spoken to many clergy over the years who not only do not like many of the folks they serve, but feel they cannot worship with them, avoid visiting them, and in general develop elaborate bureaucracies of congregational avoidance. They find this to be true in parish after parish.

There can be many reasons for this. I have met a fair number of clergy who managed to get through the discernment process (and even psychological examination) who have some serious undetected organic or personality problems (e.g. bipolar disease, severe depression, narcissistic personality disorder, borderline personalities). The stress and strain of ordained life quickly exposes what was hidden or ignored earlier. This gives rise to many very real tragedies.

Often, such people exhibited some “star quality” that the Bishop, Commission on Ministry, or home parish leadership idolized to the exclusion of balance, common sense, or sustainability in ministry. Modifying St. Paul, “the wages of idolatry is despair.” When we put forward people for Holy Orders because that individual has some narrow but currently attractive characteristic, we do no one any favors. It simply is not provision enough for the journey ahead.

For a long while, for instance, the emphasis in the Episcopal Church was "being pastoral." So, we looked for this in people to be ordained...almost the to the exclusion of most other qualities. The upshot is that many folks in a collar today lead with a wishy-washy sort of attitude, looking for the best way to smooth over things and be "welcoming" but avoiding substantive teaching, spiritual depth, transformative worship, tough decisions, setting healthy boundaries, and establishing clarity about God's mission to the Creation through the Church. Being "pastoral" became an idol, and (as idols always do) led to paralysis in the Church's true, diverse, and complex work.

My experience is that the majority of FCS sufferers simply don't have very good interpersonal skills. What was valued in them by others in the ordination process was something other than a gift for being in community, for enduring character, or something so simple as being able to hold a conversation with someone with whom they differ for more than thirty seconds. 

This is often rooted in ecclesiology. If a person thinks the Church is a body of like-minded people who gather for religious activity, or a spiritual club for one identity group or another, it is easier to keep our distance and take no risks. If a person believes the Church to be Christ's Mystical Body, then the hard work of being in community over time takes on spiritual urgency and value. FCS tends to see church as the former and makes light of the latter view.

I would suggest that, instead of grabbing people for Orders that fit one or another highly desirable criterion just now (and such new "essential" criteria seem to be cooked up every few years), we look for the ability of that person to get along with a variety of people, make and keep commitments and friendships, follow through over time, think spiritually about community, and manifest balance and steadiness in relationships. These are all essential skills in parish ministry, ignored or downplayed at our peril.