Knowing when to fold ’em

Congregational staff who occupy the “second chair” often find themselves in a precarious position related to the prospects of their tenure. Sometimes circumstances dictate this, but also, the relationship with the senior pastor can be a big determinative factor.

One insight that can be of help when both circumstance and relationship make for a prickly situation is to remember that in times of acute anxiety the issue is not about some of the things we assume should matter. For example, I’ve heard church staff, who are trying to sort out conflict that involves their job (meaning, there’s a threat to dismiss the staff person), want to argue on the merit of things like:

• their tenure
• their competence
• their expertise in the field
• their past glowing annual personnel reviews
• their sincerity
• their good service
• even the fact that they are “nice persons”

They often are taken aback to discover that none of those tend to count for much, or are given merit, during times of reactivity if staff become the focus of anxiety (resulting in scapegoating, blame-displacement, or personalization of issues). Reactivity is not about logic and reasonableness. People who are in the throws of reactivity are not interested in dialogue—the bottom line is, they just want their way.

Here’s what it sounds like:

“I’ve been here 10 years. They wouldn’t just dismiss me or tolerate the pastor just firing staff.” When anxiety hits length of tenure does not matter much—in fact, it may become one more arrow in the opponent’s quiver (“You’ve been here too long,” “That staff person should have left five years ago.” “We need new blood and fresh ideas.”). But this also assumes that length of tenure provides some “rights” and “privileges.” That may be true in more formal organizations that intentional recognize length of tenure as a value, but it’s not universally true in congregations. (Andrew Bierce said that fidelity is “A virtue perculiar to those who are about to be betrayed.”) As to the issue of the pastor firing staff, that’s one loaded with all sorts of angles. In some churches it may be that staff is expendable while the pastor is not. Or the congregation may have a “theology of hire” rather than a “theology of call” related to staff. In other words, an un-theological and unhealthy position that “the pastor hires staff” as opposed to the congregation, as a community of faith, calls its staff.

“I’m competent at what I do and I carry out my work responsibly.” Aside from the fact that this is a given—you are expected to be good at your job—the fact of the matter is that few congregational members will have any idea of what you do at your job and ministry. Program staff tend to be behind-the-scenes persons and their sphere of influence will tend to be small and focused, often by virtue of program areas: youth , children, adults, senior adults, educational programs, etc. Usually most people will not notice how good a job you’re doing—-but they’ll immediately notice if you drop the ball on something!

“But I’ve gotten glowing personnel reports every year! How can they now say I’m not doing a good job?!” Sadly, most congregational personnel committees tend to be ineffective is not dysfunctional. Often these committees consist of people in the congregation who have no idea of what you do, may have only a passing personal acquaintance with you, and , lacking leadership, tend to have no idea about how or why they are meeting for the annual personnel review with staff. Additionally, there tends to be a high turnover in these types of committees—no one want to be critical of staff (except for the occasional willful persons who get on the committee to work out their issues with the church) and few church members feel competent enough to evaluate the specialized kind of ministries that second chairs carry out. And the more responsible members take the view that if they don’t supervise you, why should they evaluate you?

When conflict spikes to a certain point, either because of circumstances or relationships, staff need to do the work of discernment about whether to stay or go. This is not easy and can be heartbreaking. But I’ve seen too many staff persons take a naive posture and just “hope for the best” or trust that persons will be reasonable and redemptive. Sadly, often that’s just setting oneself up for a tragic surprise and is putting one’s fate in the hands of others. So, how do you know when to fold ’em? Here are some thoughts based on my observation of staff (second chair) terminations over the years:

• When you realize that you are working with a pastor who does not want you there (this is not an issue of fairness. A better question is, “Why would you want to stay in a place where you are not wanted?”)
• When your job and ministry become oppressive rather than life-affirming
• When your family is suffering from the fallout of the toxicity from your job
• When the pastor gives you an ultimatum about “getting on board” with no room for dialogue or compromise
• When the pastor or a group in the church start to micromanage your ministry
• When you discern that you have become the scapegoat for misplaced anxiety and blaming
• When you cannot support the pastor’s vision for the church
• When the pastor tells you that you’re “not spiritual enough” or that “your commitment is lacking”
• When someone starts insisting on or counting office hours or insists that you “work harder”
• When staff are issued a “gag order” (“What happens in the church office stays in the church office.”)
• When you are made responsible, and held accountable, for other people’s functioning
• When the pastor, other staff, or church members begin to undermine your ministry and your effectiveness
• When you’re called into the pastor’s office for a “talk” with representatives from the trustees and/or personnel present (that’s not a posture of “dialogue” —that’s a power play intended to cover people’s rear ends when a termination is coming)
• When neither the environment or working relationships contribute to your personal, spiritual, or, professional growth
• When there is no joy in what you do.

Lest this sound like a tirade against pastors and senior pastors let me say three things:

(1) first, let’s confess that sometimes, it is the pastor; but,

(2) often it’s a consequence of the challenge of pastoral leadership functioning in a complex and chronically anxious system. I don’t think pastors intentionally want to function in unhealthy, unredemptive, reactive ways that are detrimental to self, others, and their congregations. But we should never underestimate the pressure of an anxious system on leaders who lack the resources to do self-care, self-work, or lack the capacity to function in self-differentiated ways. Never understimate the power of systemic emotional process on the person on the end-point of anxiety (especially if it involved acute anxiety)—and respect the power of homeostasis that facilitates a system to call out the leader who matches all of the system’s neuroses;

(3) accept that the relationship between pastor and staff also is complex and fraught with difficulties. Trust, mutual respect, collegiality, and just working out a good working relationship takes time, commitment, vulnerability, honesty, mutual accountability, and requires personal and spiritual maturity on the part of all players. How often do persons come together that can facilitate that constellation? How often do people give themselves enough time and opportunity to develop that kind of a relationship? (The more common pattern in congregations seems to be that the pastor is loathe to meet and spend time with staff colleagues—despite all their talk of being a “team player” or “team leader.” I don’t think I’m being harsh here—take a poll among second chairs and see what response you get).

Here’s the bottom line for me: it comes down to integrity of self. God will hold you more accountable for your response to your calling and ministry than God will others (and, by the way, that means leaving well regardless of the fairness of your treatment). Life is too short to allow ourselves to be caught in oppressive and unhealthy contexts and relationships. While there is no “perfect” congregation or place of ministry (and none populated by “perfect” Christians that I’ve been able to discover) there are places that are healthy, redemptive, affirming, and call out the best in people. None of us who are called of God and accept the call to ministry are called to minister in places that are toxic to spirit, mind, or family—especially by those who claim to be disciples of Christ who foster that environment.

What do you think? Share your thoughts.