Pastor Sam Johnson was elated. The young couples in his small congregation had asked him to start a Friday night Bible study. They said they had a real hunger to learn God's Word, and he was the one, they believed, to lead them into a deeper walk with the Lord.
Sam threw himself into his preparations with enthusiasm. This was why he had entered the ministry–to equip the saints of God. And these couples were all bright; Sam was sure he would profit from the study, too, as he listened to their insights.
The first few weeks went well. The discussions were lively and enlightening. After the study, refreshments were served, and the women stood in one corner of the basement/game room, swapping child-rearing stories, while the men challenged each other to Ping Pong, billiards, and Foosball.
On the fourth week, Sam noticed that two of the couples hadn't done their homework assignment. One couple arrived twenty minutes late. As the weeks went on, more couples neglected their homework, and more came late–sometimes not until almost time for refreshments. Sam noticed with particular annoyance that one man kept glancing at the clock during the study, yet he and his wife always stayed for foosball and often were the last to leave.
It slowly dawned on Sam that when the couples asked for a Friday night study, what they were asking for (perhaps unconsciously) was a weekly night out with their friends. "Bible study" sounded better than "party". Somewhere deep inside, the couples knew that busy people couldn't commit to a weekly party, but they would commit to a teaching time led by the pastor.
Sam felt disappointed that Friday evenings were evolving into family "game nights," but he determined to make the best of them. Maybe this was his opportunity to get to know members close to his age. He tried to enter the conversations but found, to his surprise, that he really didn't have much in common with anyone. They were forever talking about people in town they had grown up with, swapping stories about who in town was doing what, and reminiscing about the way things used to be around town (yes, baby boomers and busters do that, too). Since Sam didn't share these relationships, experiences, or memories, he had little to say. Now that the group was in the habit of meeting together, in fact, he really wasn't needed. He would return home Friday nights feeling lonely.
When Sam tried to share some of his feelings with members of his presbytery, he found them strangely uninterested. Pastors and elders who had pledged to support him at his installation now brushed off his concerns with, "Well, that's the way it is in small churches."
Later, when Sam locked up with two "founding families" in a power struggle, he again turned to the presbytery for help. One pastor promised to call Sam when the calendar cleared; evidently it never did. Another pastor waved aside Sam's struggles: "The pastorate isn't for the weak. You've just got to be tough and hang in there."
Sam sighed, "I thought Christians were supposed to love, not ignore, one another. Whatever happened to the team ministry concept? Christ sent his disciples two by two, but the Christian church tells its pastors, 'You're on your own now. Good luck! You'll need it.'"
WHY PEOPLE DON'T KNOW YOU'RE LONELY
The pastor of a small congregation may find it particularly easy to feel lonely. He or she has come to a group with a closed system of long-established relationships. Those outside the system are viewed with suspicion: "They aren't one of us–they don't understand the traditions that are important to us." The pastor is often kept at arm's length.
If you pastor a small congregation, your people are not necessarily trying to be cruel; they are blissfully unaware you even need such support. The members of your congregation, when in a jam or needing someone to talk to, have lifelong friends and close family members just down the road. A support system is such a natural part of their lives that it never occurs to them a newcomer wouldn't have one. Besides, as a pastor, you are supposed to be spiritually stronger than the average Christian. Your congregation no more worries that you don't have friends than they do that you may not have air to breathe.
Nor are members of denominational judicatories much help to the small-church pastor. Your denominational colleagues don't expect you to stay long in a small congregation. Lyle Schaller, writing in The Small Church Is Different, points out that in the United Methodist Church, small churches are likely to "have a series of very short pastorates, usually four years or less"; "be perceived by many members as a post-seminary apprenticeship for young pastors 'on their way up the conference ladder of appointments' "; and "not expected by denominational leaders to grow in size."
As one might view the latest boyfriend of a fickle woman, so the small-church pastor is viewed by the local judicatory. He might be nice, but why bother trying to get to know him? Come this time next year, he'll be gone.
WHAT YOU CANAND CAN'T CHANGE
It's not impossible for the small-church pastor to find fellowship and support, but he or she will most likely need to change three things: expectations, job description, and ways of relating to people.
Changing Expectations. As many pastors prepared for the ministry, they were surrounded by like-minded people in a Bible college, seminary, or strong local church. If you believe a small-church pastorate will provide you with more of the same, you are in for a shock.
It's more like being a missionary on a foreign field. You are among people of a different culture who, at least initially, will have little understanding of, or interest in, you and the things that move you. Missionaries often must get their emotional and spiritual support long distance.
Pastor Adam Lowell, who has been with the same small church for fifteen years, can often be found browsing secondhand bookstores on his day off. For him, collecting theological and devotional books is his lifeblood. Through reading, he is able to get into contact with likeminded people–ones wrestling with questions he wrestles with, who understand the trials of the Lord's servants, who can speak the Word of God to his heart. Pastor Adam is forever taking notes, underlining, and writing down his responses to what he reads. He even composes reviews of his books and keeps them in bound notebooks, which he refers to from time to time. To some pastors, what Adam does sounds too much like school. But to Adam, reading keeps him from feeling lonely and cut off from the larger body of Christ.
Kate Carter, another pastor, regularly corresponds with former schoolmates who are ministering across the U.S. Kate, like many small-church pastors, doesn't have the money to make a lot of long-distance calls, nor the time to write long letters. Instead, she records audiocassette "missionary letters" by taking a tape recorder in the car as she makes pastoral visits and runs errands. Kate talks about struggles, along with whatever comforts and insights she's receiving from the Lord. After her friends have listened to the tapes, they record letters and send them back. In this way, Kate and her friends support one another even though separated by many miles.
In many cases, the smaller church is your mission field, not your primary source of friendship. Realizing and accepting this will motivate you to develop long-distance relationships and, like missionaries, find ways to maintain them.
Changing Your Job Description. Many pastors of small churches wind up, unintentionally, narrowing their job description to "ministering to the needs of these particular people and solving the problems of this local church." Loneliness may be reduced by mentally expanding that to "advancing the universal church of Jesus Christ in my local area."
Roger Hansen is kept plenty busy tending his small flock, but he makes time to serve on several denominational boards. Roger finds that people who may not be interested in the struggles of his congregation will listen when they are voiced as "examples of what's wrong with our churches" or "areas we need to strengthen." Also, his peers are getting to know and respect him as "Roger," not just "the new guy over at little First Church." The more they get to know him, the more Roger is asked, "How are things going?" and the more others are willing to be attentive to his answers.
Working for the greater church will not only allow you to use more of your gifts for Christ's kingdom, it will also help alleviate loneliness.
Changing Ways of Relating to People. If your congregation knows you only as "Pastor," you will remain an employee, spiritual giant, counselor, hero, villain, someone to put up with for a few years–but not a friend. It's only as the people begin to relate to you on a personal level that friendships can blossom.
How can you help your congregation relate to you? Let your people know the real you. Too many pastors act as if they were Greta Garbo: their personal lives are kept hidden from the press.
Pastor Robert Bailey is a fan of NBA basketball, movies, and "golden-oldie" rock-n-roll. He jokes at committee meetings, "Let's speed things along. The playoffs start at 9:00." In the church's annual report, he includes his predictions for the coming year's championship series. At church talent shows, he does his Elvis imitation. He recently hosted a "'50s/'60s Night" in the fellowship hall complete with Hula Hoop, Twist, and Name-That-Tune contests. Robert finds that the congregation appreciates the "nonpastor" side of him and that, in turn, makes him appreciate them. Church members are starting to call him "Bob." That hasn't affected his leadership negatively; in fact, his effectiveness has actually increased.
***********************
Steve R. Bierly is pastor of The Cobblestone Church in Schenectady, New York.
Copyright (c) 1995 Christianity Today, Inc./LEADERSHIP Journal
lespr95mrw5L20985426
Copyright © 1995 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.