“He’ll read my
he’ll read my
He can read my Pulpit Face (she ain’t gonna preach nobody)” — Apologies to Lady GaGa
I had lunch with a lovely couple this summer who were talking to me about their recently departed pastor. Among their many thoughtful observations about why she didn’t make it at their congregation was that she seemed to have no vitality when with the community. I thought, “WHOA, that’s a big problem.” According to them (and they’re kind people who are in no way clergy killers), this minister came alive and animated only when preaching and sort of slumped in her chair up on the chancel when she wasn’t center stage, so to speak.
I knew I would want to write about this to my chickadees, so now I’m finally getting around to it (and yes, I hear your requests for a post on earrings and jewelry and I’m working on ideas).
If you look bored, tired, or just not engaged when you’re with your community, you are communicating that you don’t care.
We all get tired, sweeties. It’s fair enough to show up at the office disheveled and bed-head-ish on VARY rare occasions, but don’t make it a habit. It’s fair enough to yawn at a late evening meeting, but it would be better if you could sneak in a nap earlier in the day so you’re not dozing off when lay people are doing the work of being the church with you. It is your job to be awake, prepared, engaged and “on.” If meetings run too late, it is your responsibility to nurture strong lay leaders who can start and end meetings on time. If you’re booked from 7:30 AM for breakfast meetings, spend the rest of the morning working on the Order of Service and keeping office hours, make pastoral calls over the lunch hour, attend a community meeting in the afternoon, run home for dinner and then out to meetings, you’re not being a good steward of your own energies and you are setting a very poor example of “life more abundant” to your people. Although I am not blaming you — we all know the clergy culture of martyrdom and workaholism is a popular one — I am saying that only you can arrange your life and ministry in such a way as to keep yourself healthy, refreshed and not dead on your feet.
As far as pulpit poise goes, we simply must not sit there with dead faces during any portion of the worship service. It is a theological problem: what does the minister who sits dully on the chancel think he or she is doing there? Putting in time until the BIG MOMENT (ie, the sermon)? I’m sorry, but that’s a bad attitude, gang. The sermon is certainly the moment that requires our longest and most sustained energy but we should give no less to the leading of hymns, the listening to announcements, the reading of Scripture, the attending to the children’s message, the grateful receipt of the morning offering, and the act of holding reverent silence in prayer. I give a workshop called “Moving Through the Liturgy” to churches and in seminaries that emphasizes the embodiment of liturgy, the importance of knowing what we are doing as incarnate beings during every element and during every transition — what we are communicating beyond the words (which are just a part of the message we are sending).
Stay with it. Keep awake and alive. If the Holy Spirit is present in our worship services there is no reason for any of us to be dull and blah at any moment in the Sunday morning service. I would feel very insulted as a layperson if my pastor seemed checked out and listless while presiding.
“Maybe she was unhappy at that church,” you may say. “Maybe she was depressed.”
Let me speak to both of those things:
1. We are called to lift up the living God in our worship wherever we are, and to speak to the people in a way that ministers to them. Sometimes our services carry with them a prophetic or pastoral challenge, but we should never think it acceptable to punish the congregation for our unhappiness if we are upset with the church. Simply put, that is unprofessional and petty. The church is not about the pastor’s happiness or unhappiness, and sometimes you have to put on a happy (or engaged) face when you’d rather be 100 million miles away and anywhere but that particular pulpit. We worship God, we do not worship congregations, and we are asked to rejoice in God’s grace and bounty even when we are personally not very psyched. Also there is this: if the minister has a conflict with some in the church, it is not acceptable to punish the others who know nothing about it by being dour and morose in the pulpit. Bad form, indeed.
2. Any pastor who is so depressed that they cannot smile or be present for worship should not suffer silently but get help. He or she should ask for time off and should be granted it with the full support of the congregation. Such a person needs time to heal and needs to be held in love until he or she feels well enough to take up worship duties again.
2b. There is that old adage, “Fake it ’til you make it.” I have many times waken on a Sunday morning feeling like I just didn’t “have it” that morning, facing the worship service with trepidation. A cup of coffee, some prayer, some extra care applying the make-up, a thoughtful review of the entire service help, but nothing helps more than getting to church, seeing the gathered folk and the squirts running around, listening to the choir warm up and seeing the sunlight through the windows. Sometimes when you don’t have the energy you get it from your congregation. That’s why I think it feels like a major rejection when a minister seems to be so unaffected by the life force coming from the worshiping people. They have every good cause to ask, “Hey, if our own pastor’s not plugged into our energy as a gathered people, there’s a problem here!”
Wondering about your affect while presiding? Have a friend videotape yourself, watch and learn. There is no need to plaster on a big smiley face — in fact, that’s just weird, but you should be energetically engaged in whatever way best suits your authentic personality. And if you have a natural frowny face, honey bun, work on it. You may need to arrange your facial muscles differently so people don’t think you’re permanently cranky.
Here’s me making everything from no expression at all to way too much expression. Enjoy.
That first and last ones where I look like I just got out of solitary confinement? That’s me without any expression. No one needs to have that punim inflicted on them. I keep my mind on God and my face muscles a bit more pleasantly arranged than that.
Thanks for this, PeaceBang. I would add that I have learned over the years that my “at rest” facial expression tends toward the negative — I have been described as tired, cranky, snobby, angry, frustrated, hard and many others, none of which are particularly ministerious or welcoming!
As a result, I have had to learn to consciously avoid letting my “at rest” face be my default, especially in church. At first it was difficult and I had to think about it a LOT, but over time, I trained myself to turn the corners of my mouth up a bit (not in an active smile, but just a little less relaxed than is natural for me because they naturally turn down) and keep my eyes bright and focused.
It sounds like I’m contorting myself, but it’s really not like that. I used to be annoyed and say, “but that’s just my *face*” but I learned that LOOKING approachable and open is not only my responsibility, but the practice of making sure I appear so helps me also to focus on actually BEING approachable and open.
Thank you for this post, especially the part about expressing attentiveness when you are not speaking. It’s one of my pet peeves to see someone in the chancel who looks bored or dour or like they are not paying attention. I always discuss it with seminary interns when they begin working in the church. Now if only someone could get all the choir members on board!
We have a (UU) colleague whose ‘at rest’ in worship face is the envy of us all. He always looks engaged: thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, genuine smile. He looks like he’s listening hard for the next absolutely wonderful thing. Never looks fake or put on, either.
If I could just add another possibility. The minister is an introvert. Being an introvert myself I recognize the expression. You are right that preaching takes a lot of energy and once given, for an introvert in front of a lot of people, you just feel the energy draining right out of you. Introverts gather their energy in solitutde; extroverts gather it in crowds.
One congregational problem is that many leaders are introverts and most members are extroverts. I took up chaplaincy, one to one is my strength. I still have to do the occasional service and it is exhausting. But you do still have to know you need a ‘game face.’ [Yes! Thank you for bringing up the Introvert issue, which I forgot to do. We all need a “game face,” to just know what we’re projecting and to adjust accordingly so we don’t come across like a deflated beach ball. – PB]
Being an introvert that works with a wide range of volunteers from the community, I am so glad that you bring up this topic! A big part of my own job is ministering to the ministers. Staying on point and genuinely enthusiastic is a challenge, but essential to my own non-ecclesiastical mission. Your face and what you do with it can be the thing that helps encourage the unpaid, valuable workers whose efforts are the core of a radio reading service.
Amen! Amen! Amen! Brad Berglund (an ABCUSA worship consultant/workshop leader) tells clergy that they we do a better job when we think of ourselves not as worship leaders but as lead worshipers — if WE’RE not engaged worshipping our leadership will not be authentic with the congregation. Obviously it’s a different experience and more complicated for us, but there you have it.