The following is an edit of the article that I wrote for the Interim Ministry Network in 2022. Tomorrow, I will publish an article that takes another look at that question about fear.
Gaps
“What are you afraid of?” That was one of the scariest questions that I was ever asked. The organist, a man in his early twenties, like me, asked that question about one year into my life as a newly ordained Lutheran pastor. There was another question like it that I was asked a decade earlier. A member of the high school football team asked, “What do you do for kicks?” I answered with a question, not realizing at the time that I was practicing appreciative inquiry, “What do you do for kicks?” I won’t write down his reply, but I did ponder that question for years. The two questions are at the heart of being a transitional minister.
In Detroit, were I began, there were certainly many things to be afraid of, but the organist had picked up on my anxious presence that had little to do with the urban setting. He was asking me to be honest, to level with him. That was one things that I could not do because I was worried about so many things. Perhaps I was honest enough to answer, “I don’t know.” I am fairly sure that I adopted without saying it, the look of Alfred E. Neuman on the cover of Mad Magazine, “What, me worry?”
I will spare you the decades of soul searching between those days and now, except for the assurance that after much searching, I did find my soul.
Looking back on the gaps between calls, the insight of Roy Oswald, late of the late Alban Institute, is right about Running through the Thistles: Terminating A Ministerial Relationship With A Parish. (Alban Institute, 1978, paper back edition published by Rowman & Littlefield, Lanham, MD, 2014.) When I took the time, or perhaps better, when I had no choice about the length of the gap, the longer the gap, the better the interim that followed. When I rushed, the following interim assignment was not as good.
It was the September to January 2020 gap that answered those two questions the best. My fear was lack of income. My kicks came from finding two new sources of income: being an Uber driver and filling in as a per diem chaplain at three local hospitals.
My kicks came from being competent and trying out new things. I discovered that it’s fun to share rides with strangers, before and during the time of the pandemic. What people crave is connection. I didn’t have the words for it until the Reverend Nadia Bolz-Weber named her podcast, The Confessional. (https://nadiabolzweber.com/podcast) For me, Uber was a mobile confessional.
Similarly, the per diem work provided the connection between my skills as an interim and the work of providing connections with those experiencing the worst of the worst, especially when the hospitals were off limits to family members. As one nurse confided to me, “I didn’t sign up for being a stranger’s family and pastor and choir director.”
When a part time interim position opened up, these two calls, Uber driver and on call chaplain dovetailed nicely with the interim work at the church.
My confidence (Latin, con-fide, with faith) now comes from knowing that what I do is based on who I am. The Uber driving assured me of an income stream while not in the practice of interim ministry, the hospital chaplaincy was a reminder that there is a great need for people to be accompanied through crisis. Interim ministry for me is simply chaplaincy writ large for a congregation going through a crisis of faith: Who are we, why are we afraid, what gives us joy? This is where the work of the leader and the work of the congregation meet.
Thanks for reading. I pray that this helps you in your practice.
