Today, I will be
- toiling away on sermons for a memorial service this Saturday and an Epiphany observance this Sunday (our "Giant Puppet" Service!),
- composing a schedule for home communions,
- finalizing a design for Confirmation 2011,
- interviewing candidates for the position of Coordinator of Youth Ministries, and
- shopping for my wife's birthday.
It's a busy day, but a merry one. It stands in stark contrast to my bleak Epiphany 2010.
It was a year ago today, after a very long, sleepless night, that I composed an email to some church officers with whom I had met, the evening before.
I had wanted to discuss the future, but the officers had become privy to a conversation I had had with another staff member upon my return from Christmas break. In the conversation I had voiced my concern about how miserable I felt over how much I was apologizing to the church's lay leadership for behavior I did not think was punishable or even particularly out of line, though some of it may have been ill-advised or sadly accidental.
The latest example was my tardiness for the 11 p.m. Christmas Eve service and my sincere embarrassment about it. I had strangely lost track of time in my office (which was in a building a half-block south of the sanctuary) and had missed the single call of concern that had been made to me.
On my first day back - after a holiday break that included two emotional breakdowns, a number of nights in which I did not sleep, and an MRI - I told the staff person that I wondered if I should resign. By the next day, I had decided against it. Instead, I would meet that night with lay leaders to discuss a revised contract which would present my ministry as primarily a vehicle for change - so that the church could regroup, reconfigure, maybe even re-staff itself for an optimal future (possibly including my departure, a couple of years down the road once changes were in place).
But the content of the previous day's conversation had already circulated to the officers.
When they and I met to discuss my inspiration, the lay leaders said that, despite my decision to soldier on, they thought an immediate resignation would be most advantageous. A poll of the membership had revealed low satisfaction with my not-quite-two-year-old ministry and with the church's current state. A "congregational conversation" that was coming up that Saturday (with staff specifically not invited) was looking as though it would be very controversial, maybe contentious. Having my resignation in hand could prove helpful for avoiding open conflict, they said.
In that moment, I had agreed.
Prayer and reflection will do things to such a decision, even reverse it, I said. I explained that we needed to remove the option of resignation from the table and concentrate on the business at hand, of rebuilding our community.
In a conference call later that day, two of them replied saying first, "We thought we had an agreement," and eventually, "That was not a request for your resignation; you will resign!" In one version of the latter statement, they cited again the negative polling they had done and opined, "You must resign, or else things will get ugly."
It was for the good of the congregation, they insisted.
Regretfully, the next day I circulated an announcement to the congregation that I would resign upon reaching an agreement of terms with the Board of Trustees.
I received replies from some in the church who were very satisfied with my announcement, with many more who were strikingly upset. And on Sunday, one member inquired as to whether the resignation was forced. I equivocated, and the member perceived that I had been given an ultimatum by the officers. The church member called them for clarification.
Their response came to me in the form of another conference call, on Monday. I was not to use the word ultimatum to refer to my resignation; it was inaccurate (I challenged them by saying that "or else things will get ugly" sounded very ultimatum-like even if it wasn't actually an ultimatum).
Furthermore, they instructed me to refrain from vilifying them since they were only advising me in the best interest of the church. "You are leaving, while we have to remain in leadership here, and you will not interfere with our ability to lead." Again they said, it was for the good of the congregation that I comply.
Nine years ago on Epiphany 2002, I preached my candidating sermon at another church to a standing-room-only crowd who unanimously elected me their pastor. The Light for all of us had shone brightly to direct us together!
Six years later, Epiphany arrived on a Sunday again, and I recollected the anniversary with them, even as I was preparing to depart to become the pastor of a new church. The Light would continue to shine on them, even without me - of that I was (and, incidentally, continue to be) convinced.
I was ambivalent about leaving, obviously, but the place to which I was going and the people whom I would soon serve comprised the only church that might have pulled me away.
I considered myself a son of that "new" church, since I had been on staff there during my seminary years, and I had been ordained in its sanctuary. My call bore the hallmarks of a sure thing, as far as I and their search committee were concerned. My election to that church's pulpit had been a unanimously favorable vote, too.
Nevertheless, two years later, I said goodbye.
Sadly, we have yet to say goodbye completely. In correspondence through attorneys with the church leadership, I am convinced that they, as I, wish we could make the past to be truly past. We are slogging through issues over the sale of the home they helped me and my family to purchase... and how we will distribute the unhappy financial outcome associated with it. It makes us all wonder, Will our ending never end!
But the sun rises on this Epiphany day like the Sun of Righteousness which dawned on that ancient star-lit night millennia ago. There is a gracious beacon shining to guide us toward God's tomorrow.
The business of yesterday may still be somewhat with us. But a foretaste of God's tomorrow I acknowledge in my gladsome work today.
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