Four years ago, right now, I was embroiled in a time of major disagreement among the leadership of the church where I was lead pastor. I had worked there for almost 25 years and it was about to come to an end.
My 25 years on staff at the church had been punctuated by 2 years away in between being a youth/associate pastor and being hired as lead pastor. 15 years of being lead pastor ended after a number of months of disagreement with the Board. It’s a longish sequence of events, but basically, for various reasons, I had let the Board know that I did not have confidence in the Board as leaders. This led to a series of meetings, to more disagreement, and to the hiring of a professional mediator. In the end, we could not come to an agreement and as the Board had the ultimate authority at the church, I was let go - “constructive dismissal” it was called in employment terminology.
I really liked working at the church. I loved the people in the congregation and I even genuinely liked the Board members. None of this made the disagreement and the conflict resolvable, and, on one day in July of 2019, myself, most of the staff, and the entire management team (“deacons” in old church language) were gone.
I have often told people who ask about it and who express a kind of compassion over “how hard it must have been,” that there has not been one minute of one day when I wished I was still working at the church. I say this even though I loved the job and the people. In other words, I could not have imagined at the time that the future held something just as positive or even more enjoyable.
In the months and years before I left the job, I sometimes looked ahead with anxiety over what might happen or what I might feel when the job came to an end. I anticipated difficulty or sorrow or even depression. Though I had faced depression years earlier and thought that I might again, it did not happen. I felt better, not worse, and, I say by God’s grace, I did not feel bitter, even though the conflict was real and costly.
I’m noting this again for a few reasons. One is that, at any given time, many people are stuck in thinking that losing something or undergoing major change is a threat that only brings negative outcome. It can be hard to see at the time, but chances are there is something as good or even better in the days ahead. There is also the reality that sometimes we don’t know how bad a situation is until we are out of it. I maintain, to this day, that being the pastor of a church is one of the most stress-inducing jobs. It is not (mostly) physically dangerous. It is not demanding in the same way that being a surgeon is demanding. However, it carries a burden of expectation that is beyond description. Even a well liked minister will let people down more than they will please people. This is because the expectations are so varied and often conflicting.
Finally, I note the way things happened in my experience because we can so often have the wrong ideas about what is good news and what is bad news. I remember reading Kurt Vonnegut regarding this. He said that in this life we get that wrong consistently. You might think a celebration is at hand when you are about to face defeat. You might think that defeat is imminent only to realize that what was being opened up was new life and new horizons.
Here is what brought all of that to mind: Sports Illustrated recently ran a short story about a high school baseball championship game which ended, in the article’s description, with an “agonizing loss.”
It was the 9th inning and there were two outs, with a runner on base. The team in the field was up by a run. The next pitch was a strike and the celebration ensued for the team that won. Players were rushing the field, victory, and jubilation. The only problem was that the catcher had not held onto the ball after the 3rd strike. For those who know the intricacies of baseball rules, you know this is a problem. If this happens, if the third strike is dropped, then the catcher must throw the ball to first base before the runner gets there, otherwise the third strike does not stand and the runner is declared safe at first. As the “winning” team celebrated, the batter ran to first and the runner on base advanced. As the celebration continued, both baserunners crossed home plate. The team that was batting scored two runs and won the game. The article contains a link to a video of the incident. It’s amazing to watch as the joy of victory is passed from one team to the other
As the Wide World of Sports used to put it, “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.”
I don’t know what team I was on in the disagreement with the church Board. I like to think that I was on the team that won in the end, but there is an arrogance in that. The people with whom I disagreed might well count themselves as the winning team and me as the catcher.
I just find it all rather amusing in the end.
“What just happened? Did we win or did we lose?”
The team that thought they had won did get to honestly feel victory, for even a brief amount of time. Does that amount to anything?
I say this hoping that it might be of comfort to any of you who struggle to see past the end of something, anticipating only struggle or dread or loss.
Who knows? Maybe that catcher who is wildly celebrating as you feel the sting of loss, actually dropped the ball. It might be worth heading towards first base.
Timely advice and hopeful thoughts Todd. Thank you again
Thanks Krysta; Your writing and videos speak hopefully and I am thankful for our conversations.