Third Monday after the Epiphany
In our phone conversation Saturday April told me that she was going to binge read a couple of weeks of blogs that she had gotten behind on. She did not tell me that she was going to binge comments as well. Thanks April for all the comments. Yes I think ageism may play a part in committee selection.
Although I don't want to belabor this point any further than this blog today, I want to note a couple of more instances dealing with my never being asked to serve. Most telling was a UUMC church wide Sunday afternoon meeting. One young woman complained to the whole gathering about how difficult it was to get people to serve on committees. I spoke up and said that I was willing to serve on any committee and that I had experience in serving on every committee in the years I was a pastor. That fall when the calls from nominations committee went out for people to serve, I did not receive a call.
The second instance refers to several conversations I had with a regular reader of this blog. He had agreed to serve as co-chair of the worship committee. Asking me for advice on a couple of points, he told me he knew nothing about worship. He was puzzled as to why he was asked to be co-chair. After a year in that position, he resigned, noting that he did not feel qualified for that particular position. I'll add that he is certainly qualified for many other positions. I think it is fair to say that I know more about worship than anyone else in UUMC. I could have been a help to that committee. I've never wanted to chair a committee or to be in church leadership. I just wanted to serve. I have repeatedly asked various clergy members at UUMC why I'm never asked. What's wrong with me? I've never gotten an answer.
Self-examination and prayer have led me to a couple of conclusions. First, I come on too strong. I have always been taught to do the very best you can. I remember in 2011 in Joe Flora's Sunday School class he had a day for anybody in the class to read a poem. About half of the readers read their own poems; about half, those of others--famous poets. I did a dramatic recitations of W.B. Yeats's "When You Are Old and Grey," and T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." To me, I felt like I was giving them my very best. To them I was stepping out of bounds. I was showing off. I was supposed to just read the poem.
Other instances have been when I served as lector. I usually give a couple of sentences introduction to the scripture, then read, sometimes recite, and never in anything close to a monotone. The last time I served as lector, I read 1 Corinthians 12:13-25, in which Paul compares the different people in a church with the different parts of the body. All have to work together for the whole to work well. My dramatic reading of this text resulted in a surprising round of applause from the congregation. I don't think applause for a lector had ever happened before. My sense with the times I've served as lector is that the pastors sometimes feel like they are being upstaged. I can see how they could feel that way, but my only intention is to do the best job I can.
There are other things wrong with me. I can press my point to strongly. I can sometimes appear arrogant. I can hog the spotlight. On one occasion I was the only dissenter on a matter that had come to consensus. And last, but really indeed least, I'm a Duke fan in a Carolina blue church.
The UUMC years of my faith journey have not been the easiest. On the positive side, I have had abundant opportunities to do something I do well--teaching. Through that teaching I have developed friendships with some really great people. I have been in a church filled with good, smart, and talented people, many of whom I have had the joy of having in my classes. Perhaps I should have focused on that in this blog. On the negative side, I have felt that I have a lot to give to the church but have not been allowed the opportunity to give it. My message to any church leaders out there is: Let people serve, use their gifts and talents. Indeed, cultivate those gifts and talents.
All this is over now. I was retiring from teaching my Sunday School and Disciple classes last May. My retirement came two months earlier. I am moving from an active to a contemplative life. Next Monday I'll talk about what that means and how I am progressing with it.
Faithfully,
Christian
1 comment:
Great post Dad, and very self-reflective. While I think it's absurd that you've never been asked to serve on anything and that it's a function of the leadership being threatened by your experience, I will still agree on many of your points.
You can press your point very strongly, without really listening to the other person. I think that you are more intellectual than emotional, so sometimes you hear only the intellectual side of a discussion, not the emotional undertones. I am extraordinarily blessed to have gotten my intellectual gifts from both your genetics and the things we did together when I was growing up (one of my favorite games as a child was listening to my dad recite all the Roman emperors. I'd still like to hear him do that!) Someone can have a really stupid idea but be really excited about it. It's important to hear the excitement before you explain why the idea is stupid.
I see a lot of myself in your comments, so I can relate. The tendency to do things very well, especially speaking in public, can make other people jealous, threatened, or seem like showing off. I was accused of this all the time, and it's even worse if you're a woman. But toning yourself down is not the answer. Sometimes it's good to let people be jealous, threatened, and think you're showing off. Let them get up and show off then! When I have tried to tone myself down, I have suffered. Let them rise to your standard. BUT... listen to criticism. If you've hurt someone or offended them, listen carefully to why.
It's easy to get both a bit dogmatic (or perhaps set in your ways) about something you know well, and also to not suffer fools or novices easily. I do that too. When you start talking about what politicians should do, I, as a 20+ year organizer, can be quite sharp in telling you why you're wrong. If I did that to a young organizer or a person new to politics, they might be hurt and afraid to talk to me again. You, on the other hand, say something like, "Okay, I'll get some yard signs." Intellectual and emotional toughness have a lot of advantages, but it can also shut people down and scare them away if you are not sensitive to their vulnerability.
I have had so many of the experiences you describe and gotten so many of the same criticisms. I used to always attribute them to the fact that I was a young woman being successful and assertive in an old man's world (I was a labor organizer - it really is an old boys' club in most ways), but now I listen to the feedback. I've been beaten down so much in recent years that I've learned the perspective of the one getting berated. I am softer now. At the same time, I also need more of the intellectual and emotional toughness that you have, and that you had to have to get through that hell of a PhD program you went through and the trials of being a minister and professor. If I want to do what I want to do, I'd better learn not to cry when my teacher gives me a criticism.
Overall, I think you're just right. As our favorite Billy Joel says, "I love you just the way you are." And if you want my advice, go somewhere where your gifts will be better put to God's service. People need you. You need you. Go have fun doing what you want to do at a church that embraces you.
Or... you could become a monk if you're serious about the contemplative thing. I think the Jesuits are hiring. Oh, no, bad idea... you're married to the best step-mother ever and I'm keeping her!
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