DEAR churchwardens,
First of all, a caveat. You might think this is about you. It isn’t. It is about the Universal Churchwarden/Steward/Elder/General Figure of Elected Authority in the church community. On the other hand, most of my experience of GFEAs is drawn from Churchwardens I Have Known; so it is, maybe, a little bit about you. You know who you are.
Thank you
IN THE Church of England (and I assume in other denominations as well), your responsibilities as GFEA are many and onerous. I am perpetually astounded that anyone takes on the role, so great are your obligations; and I stand in awe at your dedication of, and service to, your local church and community.
You and I are constantly being told to delegate, share the burden, devolve leadership and form teams, groups, and working parties in order to divide up the work so that it doesn’t kill us. And all the time we look round, bewildered, wondering where these people are going to come from, and feeling, perhaps, that it is our fault that no one is jumping in to clean the brass, write the faculty applications, or sort out the accounts. So, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, that you have stepped forward to share the leadership of this precious community of souls with me. It is not a small thing you do, and more recognition should be given to all the work that you undertake.
ONE of my favourite addresses from an archdeacon to the deanery’s churchwardens began with the words “Be kind to each other and get a faculty,” which more or less sums up most wisdom. But, just as she went on to expand on this, so will I.
Getting things out of the way
PLEASE forgive me: I am not the Angel Gabriel. I cannot be all things to all people. There will be some things that I am very good at, some I can just about get by in doing, and others where I lack any skill at all. You probably should have discerned this at the interview, and I always try to be as honest as I can on those occasions so that expectations can be managed. However, if you were led to believe I was an overachieving all-rounder, who could triple your church congregation and quadruple your income, I apologise.
Bear in mind, however, that although distance in time and location has lent a rosy glow to my predecessor, they were not the Angel Gabriel either. On the other hand, nor were they the Spawn of Satan. Like me, they were just ordinary humans, trying to serve God and their people to the best of their ability, while still retaining some sense of proportion and sanity.
As you forgive me, so I forgive you for all the exaggerations, downplaying of issues, and outright fibs contained in your parish profile. It takes years of experience to “read” a parish profile and — although some fun can be gained not telling me where the bodies are buried — it’s best to be honest from the start.
Your role(s)
EVERY year, Church of England churchwardens are reminded of their duties at the Visitation, when they are sworn in for another period of service. I don’t need to remind you of the public responsibilities and duties, but there are other, unspoken tasks which I am grateful if you undertake.
Storykeepers
MORE often than not, you hold the story of the church community. You know why one person or family won’t speak to another. You are aware of the particularity of pew seats and graves; you are familiar with local practices and ancient traditions. You hold the secret of why you use a particular hymn book/order of service/carpet colour. Please don’t keep this knowledge to yourself. In order to be effective, I need to know the backstory. I appreciate it may be biased and incomplete, but that’s OK. I will ask lots of people the same questions and eventually come to a rough understanding of the answer. But I won’t know anything if you don’t tell me, and that would be worse, as I run the risk of blundering in and causing unnecessary and completely unintentional distress. It’s not gossip: it’s storytelling.
Gatekeepers
PEOPLE will tell you things they won’t tell me. Sometimes they will not want these things passed on. Sometimes they will be really hoping that you will let me know how they feel. Your job is to discern what it is best I know, and also to break it to me as gently as possible. Be honest, but also kind. Some things I really don’t need to know. However, please do not begin your conversation with “People are saying. . .” Very often that means “One person is saying”, or even “I think this but am not willing to own it publicly.”
Sometimes, I will want to explain in an informal way why I have changed things or made certain decisions. I will tell you these things so that you can drip feed them out into the community. I will also tell you about things that I am thinking of doing so that you can test out the lie of the land — if they are going to cause huge disruptions then I probably won’t do them.
You can make change possible or impossible. You have a huge impact on the atmosphere of the church. Your support — or lack of it — may determine how successful a project or initiative turns out to be. Please be aware of this power, and use it wisely and sensitively for the good of the community.
Negotiators
AS INDICATED above, I cannot be all things to all people, and I cannot do everything that is wanted — or even needed. Part of your role is to negotiate this with me, and with the congregation, explaining that I am just one person with a limited skill set, and reminding me of the same. To this end, don’t be afraid to put pressure on me to take days off, holidays, retreats etc. A shattered, worn-out priest is no good to anyone — better to have one who works steadily than one whose ministry is characterised by peaks of activity followed by complete collapse.
Study days are important, too: the practice of ministry has changed since I was ordained, and it is essential that I keep up with developments if we are not all to become trapped in the late 1990s.
Three final pieces of advice
- Never be afraid to put out a traffic cone and reserve me a parking space. It is a true kindness, and anyway I will get my cassock all muddy if I have to park half a field away.
- Keep praying. Pray for me and with me, for the community, and for yourselves. We won’t get anywhere without God.
- Remember that the church will not collapse without us. Take a day off yourself to smell the flowers, and know that you have the deep gratitude of this parish priest for all that you do.
Sally
The Revd Dr Sally Welch is Vicar of the Kington Group in the diocese of Hereford.
