Creatures of Habit

My little dog Parker (generally known around here as "Theadorable Parker") is very much a creature of habit. Especially first thing in the morning, there are certain rituals and routines which MUST be observed -- when she gets up, when she goes out, where she goes, how long she stays, what she expects to find waiting for her in the way of treats and breakfast when she gets back. Deviate from this drill even in the slightest, and she's sure to let you know about it. Loudly.

Of course, like most dogs, Parker is also a very effective "single instance learner," which means that it is also possible for the routine to change dramatically based on experience. For example, a few months ago her vet prescribed a round of antibiotics for Lymes. The first day we wrestled in the kitchen for about 10 minutes before that pill went down, and the next morning when she came in from doing her morning business she ran straight upstairs and hid under my desk rather than coming into the kitchen for another before-breakfast wrestling match. So I started crushing the pills and mixing them in with her food; now the new ritual is when I come back upstairs with my coffee, she goes back downstairs to eat her breakfast...and to take her medicine without knowing even knowing it.

They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks, but I know for a fact this isn't true. The tricky part is teaching them the tricks you want them to know, rather than the other way around. To teach a dog you need to learn to think like a dog, and to shape and motivate their behavior in ways that make sense to THEM. Dogs are very clever animals. But like any other animal, they relate best to a changing world on their own, familiar terms.

What does all of this have to do with anything about ministry, you ask? Good question. Some years ago church consultant Lyle Schaller developed a clever way of describing congregations of different sizes as "Cats," "Collies," "Gardens" and "Ranches." Gardens and Ranches are both organizations of organisms, rather than organisms in their own right, and need to be understood in that context. Cats are small and independent creatures; they like to be fed, petted and admired, but apart from that pretty much prefer to be left alone. Collies, on the other hand, (standing for the Pastoral-sized congregation of approximately 100 households, give or take), love to be loved, trained, exercised and praised by the leader of the pack, to whom they look for both nourishment and direction.

Collies are eager to please; but without proper training, they can also become quite rambunctious and unruly. And even more than cats (who tend to act by instinct), they are very much creatures of habit, who can often become quite set in their ways, especially as the result of a single bad experience. A well-trained collie will sit, stay, heel, fetch, follow you anywhere without a leash, and go for help when you fall down a well. But an untrained collie is a danger to itself and others -- a critter who chases cats up trees and digs up budding gardens without a second thought, and then comes home wagging its tail and looking for rewards and approval. And the problem is not the dog. The problem is the lack of training.

Moving away from the metaphor for a moment, the Pastoral-sized church is under a lot of pressure these days. Not only is it the most labor-intensive type of church for clergy to serve, but the financial realities of modern American society are also making it increasingly difficult for a congregation of 100 households to employ a full-time, seminary-educated pastor at a living wage. Seminary students who learned their trade in the ranches and gardens of "teaching" congregations can usually (after a few scratched fingers) figure out how to feed a cat, but learning how to train a dog (especially an old dog) to perform at the same level of excellence as a rancher's border collie is often beyond them, and thus merely a futile exercise in mutual frustration. It's one thing to bark out a few commands and watch dogs trained by others herd the errant sheep back into the fold. It's quite another to be able to train a dog to do that by yourself, and not be bitten a few times in the process. The key to successfully training a dog is to earn their love AND their respect, their loyalty AND their obedience, and to direct their natural desire to feel comfortable knowing their familiar place in the pack in such a way that pleasing you pleases them.

So (returning once more to matters of ministry) how do we learn to do this? How the hell should I know? I'm a historian, not the Dog Whisperer. But I do know this. Many of the people attending our churches these days did not grow up in one, and lack much of the old-fashioned cultural familiarity with "the ways of church" that their parents and grandparents took for granted. And the same is also true of many of our clergy. Instead, we come to our participation in church with all sorts of norms and expectations formed in other places -- work, school, the "school of hard knocks" -- which may or may not be appropriate to an ecclesiastical context. Exaggerated clerical expectations of professional privilege and entitlement run head-long into the customer service expectations of 'consumer religion," where the desire for "free, perfect and now" is only fueled by a broader societal reality of "the best quality available, wholesale and overnight." We can talk and talk until we are blue in the face about "mission" and "covenant" and "a culture of generosity," but for most folks a contract is a contract, and they want what they want at the least possible cost. After all, we are all creatures of habit. Why should Sunday be any different than any other day of the week?....