Return Again: Can I Lead from a Different Place?

At this time of year, many of us as clergy have had the experience of opening our calendars after summer vacation and being flooded by feelings of excitement and exhaustion, aspiration and anxiety, determination and dread.

At the same time that we anticipate what the new congregational year will hold, we also wonder how we will deal with expectations placed on us by others and ourselves. Faced with these expectations, it is easy to lose our own sense of self and give up too easily on resolutions for our own well-being.

This moment of returning can be the beginning of a downward spiral, or it can be an opportunity to lead from a new, more health-giving place.

For some years, I led a workshop for rabbis called “The First 100 Days of Your New Rabbinate.” Rabbis often arrive in a new congregation just before the High Holidays. Congregation members, many of whom only attend services at the High Holidays, listen critically to the rabbi’s sermon at this crucial moment. Since this workshop was often held in August, right before the High Holidays, many of the clergy beginning in a new synagogue felt that the High Holiday services were “an audition,” with all of the accompanying expectation and nervousness.

This summer I’ve worked with a few clergy during their sabbatical time. As these pastors transition back into their congregations, each is clutching newfound insights or convictions. Each wonders how soon their good intentions will fade, how soon they will be sucked back into the rapids of congregational leadership. Each asks, “When I return, can I lead from a different place?”

“Doing” My Self-Care

Recent research on clergy health, reported by Rae Jean Proeschold-Bell and Jason Byassee in Faithful and Fractured, indicates that clergy rank first among professions in satisfaction with their work. Paradoxically, clergy also carry stress, depression, and mental, spiritual, and physical health challenges like others in the general population.

Mindful of the possibility of burnout, clergy have been taught to focus on “self-care.”

In my opinion, self-care is important, but it is often not enough.

We all know clergy who cling to their self-care practice as if it were the wild card in a poker game. They are ready to play that card when it is absolutely needed. But self-care practices, conjured up suddenly in times of stress, are no substitute for ongoing practices of self-nurture and self-sustenance.

Other clergy approach self-care as yet another list of things to do. Inevitably, they cannot always “do” self-care and, as a result, feel guilty or resentful. Clergy feel the burden to “do” self-care on top of meeting all the expectations from their congregations, colleagues, and denominations.

To be good stewards of the profession of ministry requires more than simply doing more or better self-care. Leading from a different place requires us to look much deeper than self-care. It requires us to look more deeply at the wellsprings of our call to religious leadership.

Self-Care Is Not Enough

In my work with clergy, I use some recent psychological resources on self-compassion that I learned in an intensive workshop with Kristin Neff. I’ve discovered that, like many in the helping professions, clergy can give compassion more easily than they receive compassion from others. Moreover, clergy often do not cultivate self-compassion when it is needed most.

There may be unexamined narratives in the life of a clergy person that require not just doing something different in religious leadership, but also leading from a different place.

In my clergy leadership coaching, I sometimes use a comprehensive, 360-degree assessment tool called The Leadership Circle. Using this tool, clergy recognize how their reactive tendencies may influence their creative competencies as a leader, and also their own well-being. Would it surprise you that some clergy score high on “pleasing”? The tendency to please others is not consciously thought out, but arises reactively from unexamined narratives and assumptions. It can affect decisiveness and other competencies important for the clergy role.

To Lead from a Different Place

In a recent coaching conversation, I was impressed with how well a pastor had lined up his whole church year in advance. He had themes for each month laid out neatly in a liturgical calendar with sermon topics, scriptures, and organizational tasks. The sequence made logical sense. It was ambitious and hopeful.

However, this same clergyperson was complaining about how sick he had been, how fatigued he was feeling, and how often he was having to cancel meetings because he just could not keep up.

I told him I was impressed by his comprehensive and integrated plan, but added that there is a difference between a march and a dance. In a march, we’re leading a parade. We need to get everyone lined up and in order. Everything must be on schedule. We need to leave at a specific time in order to arrive on time. A march can be exhilarating and exhausting.

In a dance, one has a general sense of purpose. Choreography brings out the creative capacities of dancers. As a leader of a dance, you build on others’ movements, add to them, highlight certain phrases, and respond to what shows up. You can feel inspired, “in-spirited,” when mutual responsiveness leads to discovery and makes space for accomplishments that were not pre-imagined.

As leaders, we all need a mix of “march” and “dance.” One is not better than the other, but in order to be more resilient in our leadership and to foster our own well-being, most of us need to cultivate a broader repertoire.

A Time for Taking Stock

As we enter this new congregational year, it is a good time to take stock of our own tendencies and make course corrections, not just in what we “do” as leaders, but in how we see our role. We can lead from a new and different place.

All of us could perhaps find time to reflect during these coming autumn days on these questions in this new year or this new “church year”:

• What expectations do I want to cherish?
• What expectations do I want to let go of?
• What do I want to do more of?
• How can I bring more compassion to my work, even to myself?
• What wants to emerge in me, in my leadership, and in my congregation this coming year?
• How might I approach this clergy work less as a “march” and more as a “dance”?