Transitions (long)

OK, it’s official: as of midnight August 20th I am no longer the settled Parish Minister of the [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], Massachusetts. And even though I’ve been out of the parsonage for several weeks now (at their request, so that they could prepare it to rent out to new tenants), living here in Portland and ramping up for the start of the new program year with my new congregation, I’m still feeling very much “in transition,” and trying to find closure on my four year ministry among the mosquitos in Thoreau’s “City in the Woods.”

But first, the Big Move. The crew of two strong, healthy young men and a rented truck was scheduled to arrive at 10 am two weeks ago Friday to help me finish packing what I thought would be “a few last things,” then load the truck for the two hour drive back to my new place here in Portland. A week earlier I’d rented both a lovely two-bedroom walk-up apartment on the second floor of an old Victorian house in the West End, and also a studio at the Eastland Park Hotel (which I’m planning to use as my study), and I thought I’d been pretty specific over the phone about everything that needed to be moved. But when the truck pulled into my driveway (at about a quarter of 11), the two strong, healthy young men took one look at the stuff I’d packed so far and said “We’re going to need a bigger truck.”

So they called their boss back in Maine, who arrived around 2 pm with yet another guy and a second truck, and between the five of us we managed to get everything packed up and loaded by around 7 pm. When we arrived back in Portland two hours later, we were met by two MORE guys, and still it took us until nearly 2 AM to get both trucks unloaded.

As they left one of the strong, healthy young men mentioned to me that there had been over 250 cartons of books alone (I’d lost count after the third trip to the store to buy more boxes), so if you figure an average of 20-25 books/box...well, you can do the math. And no, I haven’t read all of them; haven't even come close. I could probably start reading right now and do nothing else for the rest of my life, and still not finish them all before I died. So keep your eyes peeled for a “help me find my peace of mind by buying a piece of my mind” used book sale. I mean, do I REALLY need six copies of Walden? Simplify! Simplify!

I’ve also been thinking about my UUA exit interview, which for various reasons (time, distance, conflicting schedules, and intervening events like the death of my mom) I still haven’t completed. But at least I've seen the exit interviews from the previous minister and lay leaders of my present congregation, so I kind of know what I’m in for. The first two questions are “What do you see as the three most significant accomplishments during your tenure?” and “What were your frustrations and disappointments during this time?” -- and that little one-two punch alone is enough to lay me out cold. Because in many ways, my entire four year tenure in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], was simply one long ordeal of frustration and disappointment. And even though four years is the longest I’ve ever served any single congregation, it still feels like I accomplished very little there.

The reasons for this are complicated, but one key theme I’ve identified is that most of the other congregations I’ve worked with in the past were highly motivated to change and grow, and had contracted with me specifically to facilitate that change and guide them through it. But in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT, AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES}, as it turned out, the situation was just the opposite. This was a congregation which had pretty much done things the same way for so long (and already felt like everything was perfect and they could do no wrong), that over the years they had gradually lost touch with their growing edge in the surrounding community, as well as started to lag seriously behind their nearby neighboring UU congregations in terms of Programing, Stewardship, and Membership Growth. Many of them envied all the excitement and activity of the so-called full service "Program" churches they saw all around them, in Concord, Bedford and especially Littleton; but at the end of the day the stubborn minority didn’t really want to have to pay the price of change and growth...or for that matter, really change or grow at all.

I know it’s a cliché that New England churches are set in their ways, change-resistant and conflict-avoidant, reserved, tightfisted, and frugal to the point of parsimony, but I'd always thought that those were just stereotypes. And despite its "rurality" (a made-up word frequently used by [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES] to describe the attractiveness of their idyllic "faux rural" suburban lifestyle), [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES] is anything but your typical New England small town. Statistically, [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES] is the third wealthiest community in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts (trailing only Weston and Dover). The median household income in this affluent and privileged bedroom community of two acre minimum zoning is $144,000/year (and the average closer to a quarter-million). Housing prices start at around a half-million dollars...for a tear-down. But the average pledge at the [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], was (and, unfortunately remains) less than $1000/year -- two-thirds of what it is in both neighboring Concord and Bedford. Correspondingly, my salary was only two-thirds of what a High School teacher with similar credentials is paid at Concord/[NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], High School. And, unlike those schoolteachers, I did not receive a single raise (or even a Cost Of Living Adjustment) the entire four years I worked there.

But enough of my whiney bad attitude. There were a lot of good things about my ministry in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES] too. In fairness, the faults of the congregation in many ways merely reflected the larger faults of the town itself, where taxes are high and expectations even higher, and nobody wants ANYTHING in their back yard (except maybe acres and acres of town-owned Conservation Land). The church itself was actually one of the happier and more humane landmarks on the landscape of that community, and one of the few places (apart from the Post Office, the Public Library, the little "Country Store" and the Transfer Station) where someone could actually sit down and speak with their "Neighbours & Fellow Cretures." I made a more than a few new friends there myself, did some especially effective one-on-one pastoral care, dragged the church kicking and screaming (and I do mean kicking and screaming, and at times even biting and scratching) through the Welcoming Congregation process, and was at least able to bring out into the open some of the (how should I say?) "less-than-optimal" institutional dynamics that were frustrating to everyone and holding the church back. Our All-Church "Open Space" Visioning Event last February was truly inspiring, and almost tempted me to stick around a little longer. But God was calling me to "a greater field of service," so once again this restless, peripetatic soul packed his library and migrated back to the sea.

And I guess I would have to say that this was my most important learning experience in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES. There is an awful lot of territory between perfection and catastrophic failure. Most leadership takes place somewhere in that ambiguous realm between “Sustaining Success” (and possibly even eventually “taking it to the next level”) and the painfully obvious need for a dramatic “Turnaround.” The [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES] could have been a textbook example of what Harvard Business School professor Michael Watkins calls a “Realignment” situation, where the greatest institutional challenges are not so much finding new technical solutions to glaring technical problems, but rather getting people to see and recognize that there are problems to begin with, and then creating the momentum (and sense of urgency) to build upon existing strengths in order to overcome those shortcomings. It’s about navigating institutional cultural and politics rather than providing professional expertise; or, more precisely, about changing culture by introducing new “external” benchmarks, and getting complacent people to buy in to re-evaluating old standards of success and performance which are now out of touch with evolving external challenges.

Once I’d figured this out, it became my mantra for the last year and a half of my ministry there, although by that point I already had one foot out the door anyway, so I’m not really sure how effective I was. I started out as a cheerleader, but I ended up a scold.... And I never really did get a chance to be the quarterback -- that would have just been too much authority for someone who basically earns less than a schoolteacher. In fact, I couldn't even get them to look at the playbook.

On a more positive personal note, I also arrived in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES]with an undiagnosed health problem (sleep apnea) that one of my parishioners noticed (since her husband suffered from the same issue), and since being effectively treated for that my quality of life and general energy levels have improved dramatically. And I still feel like [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES]was a good place for me to land after completing a very satisfying two-year interim ministry on Nantucket (which was unfortunately accompanied by the end of my 18 year marriage). And it did serve as the springboard for me being called to this pulpit in Portland, about which I could not be more thrilled. I’m sure as time passes and memories fade, the things I will recall most will be the happier times, and not the financial stinginess, the petty bickering, and (of course) the ubiquitous mosquitos. And it really is a very pretty little church. Always looked beautiful on my business card, or at the top of my Annual Christmas letter.

In any case, (and with a tip of the hat to the movie “High Fidelity”), here are the top five things I am going to miss about my ministry in [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES]...

5) Concord. And not just the “historic” Concord of Ralph Waldo Emerson, the Old Manse, Little Women and Walden Pond, but the community of Concord...with its restaurants and bookstores, its active adult recreation program, its train connection into Boston, and all the other little cultural amenities which [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], lacks. I’m especially going to miss the Monday/Wednesday Over-35 pick-up basketball games at the Hunt Gym. Those guys were great fun to play with (with one or two exceptions) as those of you who have ever read my Obi-Wannabe-Kobe blog already know.

4) The Neighborhood of Boston. Harvard University. Davis Square. The North End. The Quincy Market and Fanueil Hall. The Boston Athenaeum and the Massachusetts Historical Society. Fenway Park. Beacon Hill and the Back Bay. Not to mention UUA headquarters and all my wonderful colleagues in the Mass Bay, Ballou/Channing, and Clara Barton Districts. Even though I grew up in Seattle and lived for fourteen years in Portland Oregon, Boston still seems like a second home to me. And I suspect this is true for a lot of Unitarian Universalist ministers.

3) The all-you-can-eat lunch buffet at the Bamboo Restaurant in Westford...now also served at their new location in Bedford. Fred Small (the minister in Littleton) introduced me to this place, and I’ve been eating lunch there practically once a week ever since. The Chang An in Concord has a pretty decent buffet too, but it’s nothing compared to the Buffet @ Bamboo, which features not only a fantastic assortment of both appetizers and main dishes, but also fresh Sushi and Ginger Ice Cream for dessert!

2) The Boston Sports Club in Waltham. Where the Celtics work out. One of the great things about this gym is that I was able to join in Lexington at a sharply discounted “clergy” rate, but then was allowed to upgrade to “Passport Premium” and work out at whatever club I liked (including those in Washington, Philadelphia, and New York) for just an additional $5/month. Or something like that. Frankly, it’s been so long I can’t remember. Fantastic facility. Olympic-sized pool, a wide assortment of cardio- and resistence-training equipment, a full-sized basketball court, a sauna, steam room, and Jacuzzi...plus an on-site masseuse. I just wish there were one in here in Portland (where it looks like I will be joining the “Y” instead).

And I guess this is all a little disingenuous, since NONE of the things on my list so far really have ANYTHING to do with [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES per se. But perhaps these these next half-dozen small things together will add up to one big thing worthy of the final spot on the list.

1a) Kimball’s Ice Cream stand. Of course, there is a bigger Kimballs in Westford. And another one right up the road in Bedford which is generally not nearly so busy. But at least I could walk to the one here, and if I was lucky and timed it right I could also sometimes stop and watch a ball game at [NAME REDACTED TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT AND CONFOUND SEARCH ENGINES], on my way back home.

1b) Dribbling a basketball in the house whenever I wanted at any hour of the day or night without having to worry about disturbing the downstairs neighbors. Who were mostly mice, ants and silverfish anyway. With an occasional rat or roach thrown in.

1c) The Belltower. I know a lot of folks would find it annoying to live next door to a church clock which chimed the hour 24 hours a day. But I generally found it comforting to be routinely reminded of the time, except maybe on those Saturday nights when I was still up late working on my sermon, or perhaps just tossing and turning in bed trying to get to sleep.

1d) Huber Honey. Produced by local bees kept by local beekeeper and longtime choir member Ernie Huber. Available only at the annual Autumn Harvest Fair (and sometimes, if the bees have been especially busy that summer, at the Annual Christmas Greens Sale). It’s the best.

1e) The Annual Strawberry Festival. And OK, if the truth be told, also the Harvest Fair and the Greens Sale. But NOT Old Home Day (except maybe for the traditional firefighters community chicken BBQ)....

1f) ...being able to walk the dog off her leash without ever having to worry about picking up “lawn sausages” with a plastic bag....