THE theory of clergy work/life balance is on every diocesan website, and many others besides, discussed at length from all viewpoints. The general conclusion today seems to be that a 48-hour week is about right, plus a bit more if you are going to be very conscientious, with one 24-hour period a week not working, and maybe an extra day off a month — all this, wrapped in language that makes it plain that it is up to the individual to take responsibility for their own health and well-being.
So much for the theory; but what about the reality of life in a parish, where the daily torrent of emails, phone calls, diocesan directives, pastoral demands, and personal challenges threatens to overcome the hapless priest, submerging them beneath a tide of operational activities? Only a lone hand is left above the waves, holding aloft a small white piece of plastic, the symbol of their calling, hoping that they can get to the shore of annual leave before they drown.
This is exaggeration, perhaps, but probably a feeling that few have escaped at least some time in their lives — a state of “overwhelm” which I have certainly experienced and prefer to remain clear of, if at all possible. The pastoral calls made upon us, however, the late nights spent crafting sermons or creating props for family-friendly services, the early waking hours reflecting on church finances, or the stomach-sinking safeguarding issues — these are all part of the priest’s daily lot. A strategy that enables us not only to survive, but to thrive, must be worked out if we are to remain as parish clergy for any length of time.
FOR me, it begins with throwing out the term “work/life balance”. Personally, I cannot distinguish between “work” and “life”, not really being sure what either of those terms actually means. A “work/life balance” seems quite precarious, implying somehow the constant risk of overbalancing either one way or another, seesaw-fashion. Better, perhaps, to aim for a rhythm of life: less constricting than a “rule”, able to withstand the ebb and flow of human existence in a grace-filled way that, when it all comes unstuck, offers forgiveness both for self and for others.
As office-holders, we have the privilege of being able to craft our own timetables — feel free to do this. Do not be bullied by the overwork of some clergy, or the depressing apathy of others, but find a rhythm of life which suits you. If you flourish by having a carefully worked-out timetable, with set days off and a traditional pattern of “two sessions out of three”, then do so. If your life is less structured then that is fine, too.
Some types of work make me feel totally alive — many are the views from a hilltop joyfully entitled “counts as work” which I have irritatingly circulated among friends and family, as I explore new pilgrim trails for village churches. Other work, including all types of administration and anything to do with church monuments, drains me utterly.
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And what is “life”? The weekly, bad-tempered storming round the house with a vacuum cleaner, or the family picnic in the woods? And what do we do about the things in between: shopping in our local town, fêtes, concerts, Messy Church, collecting children from the school at which we are a governor, visiting churches on holiday and seeing something that we could do in ours?
How do I calculate working hours, when I work from home? Do I knock ten minutes off my imaginary timesheet every time I stop to change the washing over? Where does peeling potatoes come in, if I am also considering what to say about Paul’s attitude to women? I am individual, priest, wife, mother, grandmother, always, all the time.
SO, WHERE to start? Probably with where you want to end: are you in this for the long term? Do you want to establish a sustainable way of life which will enrich both you and those around you? What does a “happy life” look like for you?
Next, you probably should work out the priorities, not just for you, but for those you care for, and for your community. Try to have some conversations and do some serious reflection around these, as often the things that you think are a priority might not seem so crucial to those around you. Balancing your requirements with the requirements of others takes skill — and, sometimes, a certain amount of ruthlessness.
Be honest with yourself about yourself: establish when is the best time for you to do tasks that are draining, as opposed to those that sustain you — whichever area of life they fall into. Be realistic about your guilt: parish work, like parenting, is never-ending, and you can never do it well enough. Don’t ignore the guilt altogether, however, as sometimes the most diligent of us needs a spur to attack “heart-sink” tasks, and guilt is as good a spur as anything else.
Try to make time to do the things you enjoy, as well as the things that you don’t: activities that leave you joyful or rested, energised or satisfied. Leave space for dreaming; for it is in dreams that God speaks.
COUNTING hours or not: it is up to each one of us. But our goals are the same: to have Christ as “the pattern of our calling”, and to sustain our communities, “that we all may grow into the fullness of Christ and be a living sacrifice acceptable to God”.
How to do that? St Thérèse of Lisieux probably has the best answer: “My vocation is love. In the heart of the Church, my mother, I will be love, and then I will be all things.”
The Revd Sally Welch is Rector of the Kington Group in the diocese of Hereford.
