I was out running Advent and Christmas errands this morning. The sort
of errands which, if I’m lucky, mean I won’t
be running around the week leading up to Christmas. Having all the stuff we
need not only at home, but at church (and, in our case, also camp) for the long
list of events and projects in the month ahead…well…you’ve got to have a plan.
Even with a plan you may hit twice as many stores as you expected.
Which is, of course, what happened today.
In the midst of a 3-for-1 stop at Joann Fabrics (the sales clerk
groaned a bit when I explained I needed to ring up my items as three separate
orders), I ran into a former parishioner—someone who knows the life of a pastor
more than most, because of committees she has served on and well, having the
heart for her pastors that some people just do.
All churches have these people. Well, I hope they do. All churches I
have served have had these people. Many of them, in fact.
These are the people who are grateful for the ways your work takes you
and your family a bit out of the holiday spirit others get to settle more
deeply into. These are the people who do actually understand that even a fun
church event is still work for you. They are the people who recognize that at
church, as kind and accepting as people may truly and genuinely be, your kids
and spouse are also kind of “on.” And they understand that their graciousness
toward you matters, but also that even they can’t make that need to be “on” go
away. And so they cut you and your family some slack.
These are the people who don’t tell you how you should be balancing all
of this. Because they’re pretty confident you’re doing your best. And they do
their best not to make it any harder on you. But they also have high
expectations. Because they know this is your job, and you do it because you
love it, and yes, this is game time. This is why you do this. To tell this
grand story of God incarnate.
These people know, however, that as much as you love what you do, it
drains you.
That if all you had to do right now was the holiday stuff, that would
be enough. But that the business of church doesn’t stop. Pastoral needs don’t
decrease this time of year—in fact they usually spike. And there’s always—ALWAYS—some
candle crisis around Christmas (it’s in the Bible somewhere too, I’m sure).
These people know that if you do your job even half-well, they will never see
all the proverbial (and yes, sometimes literal) fires you’re putting out
(remember the candles?) just so others can enjoy worship this time of year.
They know the new year is coming quickly, and you’re hustling not only to
prepare for Christmas Eve, but also to get enough done on the next two Sundays
that you might actually get to spend calm time with family some after
Christmas.
I thank God for these people.
Pastors know who these people are.
****NOTE: These people are almost never the ones who tell you they are these
people…it’s like humor…if you’ve got it, you don’t need to tell people, “Hey
look, I’m hilarious!” First church I served, the ones who told me how close
they’d always been to the pastor…were the first ones who eventually left (and
caused drama as they did).****
Sometimes all these people do is share a word of gratitude, other times
they pitch in without being asked, but especially if asked. These are the ones
who just by their spirit and bearing and the drama-free space they create
around the pastor, make this time of year not only bearable, but even enjoyable.
These are the people who see the
pastor and their family as people. People just like them, their kids, their
parents, etc. And they do, actually, treat their pastor and family the way they’d
want to be treated.
As I said goodbye to this former parishioner before we each headed off
to find our required craft supplies, she said, “Make sure you don’t run
yourself too ragged getting ready for Christmas!”
Thank God for these people.
