File this under “WERE YOU PEOPLE RAISED IN A BARN OR WHAT?”
It’s been brewing for awhile, so hold onto your hats, pigeons. PeaceBang’s got a whopper of a rant to get off her chest.
It’s like this.
Ministry is one of the professions where the apprentice system is still the way we train the next generation. There simply is no good way to learn the arts of parish ministry without spending time as a parish minister under the watchful eye and good mentoring of a senior colleague. If the experience is terrible, we learn by negative example. If the experience is a good one, seminarians gain an amazing store of knowledge and ministerial lore in a short time. Sure, the pay is slave wages and that’s not okay, but it is currently the state of affairs (in my denomination, anyway).
Keep this in mind, newbies: no matter how awesome you think you are, almost no one in the local church has you at the top of their list of concerns. Sad but true. Hence, a good dose of perspective, a cork in the whine and a some humility and ingenuity will do you well in your search for a good placement.
A parish ministry is a fragile eco-system. It takes a tremendous amount of time and talent in this era of throwaway and consumeristic attitudes for a minister to become settled in a congregation, trusted, and copacetic enough with the laity and staff to welcome an intern into the mix.
Simply put, an intern is a risk to the eco-system of a church. As much as we all want well-prepared ministers to serve the church, we want good people first and foremost, and you should not assume that you are that person. You’re still in formation, remember? You’re not entitled to anything – least of all the privilege of serving in a pastoral role to a congregation. I hear this sort of entitled attitude expressed all the time by seminarians and I think, “Wow, that’s really amazing. I went about finding an internship placement with the thought that I would be really lucky to be accepted as an apprentice to any church.”
The church and your senior colleague(s) are doing you a favor by agreeing to help you prepare you for the ministry — by listening to your terrible first sermons, by smiling supportively as you stumble through the liturgy, and by humoring you through your Big Visions that you’d love to try to inflict on the congregation even though you’re only going to be there for one or two years. Remember that as you go forth to find a congregation and a senior colleague to mentor you. Get your orientation right.
I hear the whining start already. “PeaceBang, you’re being so condescennnnnnding!!”
Yes, I am, tootsie. That’s because I’m your veteran colleague and you don’t know anything yet, and it would be wise if you piped down and listened for awhile and took notes.
(Speaking of which, I was in massive shock and amazement when I taught Worship and Liturgy and many of my students never took one note. Gee, that’ll be helpful when you go to do your first funeral and somehow memory fails to provide the comprehensive list of tips Professor Weinstein provided when you took the class THREE YEARS AGO. I shake my head at the ignorance, I really do. These people are not going to make it in ministry. I don’t know what they think: that they can coast through on their awesome faith skills? Wake up and smell the Communion wine!).
Some congregations have fantastic internship systems set up, maintained by a crew of dedicated lay people. In those congregations there’s a lot of competition for internship slots, so remember that. Be humble, not entitled. Some congregations are internship factories because interns serve the supervising pastor’s ego. They’re not interested in your formation so much as in cloning mini-me’s or in sending out a corps of disciples in their name. In some congregations, the pastor is a mess and props up his or her failing ministry by bringing in interns to do the work he or she doesn’t want to do. The seminarian who goes to that church isn’t being trained but exploited. Most churches are fairly small and the sole senior pastor does most of the work with the intern his or herself. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me. Do you want to apprentice under this pastor? Why? That’s a lot of work you’re expecting us to take on. Why us? Why our congregation? If you don’t have a good reason, we don’t need to take on that extra work and expense. Be fair. Remember that you could wind up being a liability.
I am steamed about this right now because I have seen several excellent colleagues in recent years struggle with the egos of obnoxious interns who have caused them no end of extra work and stress. These ministers have spent more time cleaning up the messes made by their interns than is fair to expect, and I think it’s high time someone spoke plainly to the problem. I know that interns go through hell with supervising ministers, too, but there’s not much you can do about terrible supervisors but report them and get the seminary to stop acrediting the site, and I hope you would do that (I’ve seen it done and been very satisfied to see some abusive, exploitative colleagues lose their supervisory status, but not without having done a lot of harm first). An experienced pastor who stinks as a supervisor is already ordained. They’re not in formation any more. They’re formed, and they’re formed badly. But it’s you, the newbie who is open to learning, that I want to reach.
I am approached on a fairly regular basis by seminarians who would like to do an internship at my church. You know what they do?
THEY SEND A GENERIC E-MAIL.
And I do a desk-head smash every time I get one.
And then it’s *delete*
Because right away I know that this person is not a go-getter, is not interested in working with me, Victoria Weinstein, and my awesome congregation but just with ANYBODY – any warm, ordained body will do, and any old congregation. So why should I respond? If your powers of discernment, social networking and people skills are that bad, I can be certain that you’re not impressive enough to bring to my congregation as an aspirant for ministry. We don’t expect you to have great ministerial skills when you apply, but we do expect you to have enough on the ball to tell us why you’re interested in coming to us. Can you imagine me convening a group of lay people for an internship committee by saying, “Hi everyone. I got a generic request from a seminarian who wants to be an intern somewhere and to work with someone. Don’t you think we should invite him or her for an interview? Don’t they sound like an exciting person to bring here to work with us and learn from us?” I think one of my folks would probably say, “Well, maybe we can teach them how to write a cover letter, to begin with!” And we’d all laugh.
Sometimes I think that ministers forget that our first loyalties are to the health and well-being of our congregations and not to the “union.” That just really peeves me. Ministers and our clubby little mentality. I hate it like poison, and I’m afraid it has greatly infected the seminary.
Perhaps worse than the generic inquiry is the overly-familiar, presumptuous one. I met a seminarian recently at an event and briefly talked with him about his need to get into an internship site. Nice guy. I later received an e-mail from him saying how nice a time he had had at the event and telling me that he wanted to talk. Not about what. And he ended the letter, “We should talk soon.”
*delete*
WE SHOULD TALK SOON????? I do not understand that at all. That’s how you address a veteran colleague under whom you would like to apprentice? “We should talk soon” is something you say to a buddy on the way out of the bar. You do not say it to a respected elder in your profession. You do not presume. You do not tell the veteran colleague that they “should” do anything. You write a formal, very respectful note nicely inquiring if they are available to talk at their convenience.
How does anyone not know this!??
Ministry is an ancient profession, and a formal one. There is protocol. All of you need to understand this.
I once preached at an ordination once where a seminarian participated. On the way up to the dais she stepped on my heels and on the way out of the dais she WALKED IN FRONT OF a respected elder colleague — I mean she was nervous and awkward and didn’t have enough poise to simply walk up three stairs and then down three stairs without falling to pieces — she didn’t walk in front of him, but cut in front of him. I wanted to grab her by the ear and sit her in the naughty corner. There is CEREMONY in ministry, for God’s sake! If you haven’t been taught the proper moves, make them up like the rest of us did. Study your senior colleagues, and not the buffoons who sit on the dais or in the chancel with their legs splayed open or their legs jauntily crossed making snarky remarks to each other behind their programs, but the ones with dignity. The ones who know how to approach a pulpit. The ones who know enough to slow down, maintain erect posture and a neutral, pleasant expression when they screw up, and walk out without stepping all over everybody’s hem. If you’re flustered, STOP and WATCH. Don’t scramble and push, are you kidding me? You can’t handle yourself better than that?
The church is about protocol. If you don’t like that, don’t try to serve the church. If you think the church is just about theology, you’re wrong. If you think it’s just about service, you’re wrong. If you think it’s just about pastoral care, you’re wrong. If you think it’s just about love, you’re wrong. The church is also about beauty, and order, and grace. It is about manners and decorum, too. If you’re such a rebel that it offends you to conform to those niceties, join a religious community that loves freedom and individuality and ego enough for you to thrive there.
Here endeth the rant.
Please join us for coffee and conversation in the parish hall.
Even after 16 years of parish ministry, I read this and wonder “Gosh, am I doing it right?” I think it’s a good reminder to all of us, Vicki, to watch our manners and behave with R-E-S-P-E-C-T for the profession.
Interesting how the sense of entitlement creeps in EVERYWHERE, eh?
Excellent — and exactly right
Thank you for pointing out that it is a privilege to be an intern and that it is the intern’s job to tread lightly. That doesn’t mean not being involved, it means understanding that you will be gone when the year (or two if you’re a part-time intern) and the church will still be there. And you don’t want to leave the situation in a place where parishioners regret having you as an intern.
(on a side note…with people from NYC being at Harvard next week…maybe we can get together if you’re coming up to see her.)
Brilliantly said! FWIW, this applies to all kinds of professional internships, not just ministerial. Too many fledglings seem to think they already know all about what to do, even before they’ve left the nest.
I’ve supervised two interns. The first had never had a job before. Needless to say, it was exhausting trying to remediate this young man on many, many things he should have already known. The second intern, a young lady, was a true pleasure to supervise: open, careful, respectful, quick study, hardworking. The same congregation was equally gracious to both. I guess all I’m saying is…don’t be afraid to try it, but if you do, host more than just once. Both students made me a better pastor, and us a better congregation, just in different ways. [I have supervised two interns and been the official mentor to five new ministers. Just FYI – PB]
As a current Intern, just at the halfway mark through my year-long placement, I wonder if it’s appropriate for me to offer an apology on our behalf. In the Lutheran tradition in which I am being formed, however, we often hold a ‘both/and’ clause, and so, trying my best not to come across as passive-aggressive, I would also ask for us a clear extension of freedom to fail. From my own experience, the only one I am qualified to speak of, the pressure to present oneself as a fully formed minister for the sake of passing the ‘discernment test,’ getting approval from the committees, etc., makes it difficult to feel free as an intern to watch and learn rather than to assume full responsibility and authority as proof that we are ‘qualified and called.’ One of the biggest challenges for me in this formation process is learning how to carry pastoral authority appropriately and to model a mutual ministry so the laypeople don’t get the wrong impression that somehow a pastor is on a level above. Liminal time is, in my limited experience, rarely comfortable, and while I do not wish to offer this as an excuse for my and my colleagues’ unprofessional behavior oddly mixed with a sense of entitlement to leadership, I thank you for your rant and ask that you consider a brief reply of advice before deleting those incoming generic e-mails, even if it is a paragraph copied and pasted from the above rant (perhaps especially) – is it worth cutting off the branch before trying to plant a seed? On the other hand, ministers have a lot on their plates to work on, and if you simply do not have the time for such a reply it would certainly be understandable, I only offer this thought for your consideration. Thank you for the broad range of work you do on this blog, it is a brilliant idea, and for the time you put aside for it as part of your ministry.
[Hi Angela. In ministry, we often have to apologize on our own behalf and on behalf of others (our colleagues who did harm, for instance), so that’s a good instinct! 🙂
It depends on how many requests I get. I have sent many e-mails back asking for further information, but sometimes I don’t. If I get 12-15 “fishing” e-mails in a two-week period I just don’t have the time. We’re a TINY denomination and there is absolutely no reason for me to get these lazy inquiries that ask me to do all the work. That’s what offends me the most. Someone takes all of one minute to write a generic query and then I’m expected to start the conversation from this cold call? It’s like a salesperson calling me, interrupting my day and then expecting me to sell their product for them. It really is ignorant and insulting. So rather than say that and freak the tender souls out, I just delete. Ministry is also a job, pure and simple. Job hunters need to have basic skills if they’re going to get invited for an interview. I spend a tremendous amount of time mentoring seminarians and advising them, so I don’t feel obligated to do that level of hand-holding. Life is tough. The reason I haven’t responded to Mr. “We Should Talk” is that frankly, I don’t feel like dealing with anyone’s defensiveness and I don’t want to have to minister to a seminarian who I know should know better. It’s about time and energy and having fair expectations. My expectations are that a seminarian should have a basic understanding of how to address a potential supervisor respectfully. If this is a problem of the e-mail generation or whatever, I don’t know what to say. I don’t think it is. I know of tons of young people know how to write a lovely e-mail. I think it’s about attitude: “I don’t need to bother because I’m awesome” is an unmistakable undercurrent of this sort of communication failure. – PB]
I love your last paragraph. It should be required reading for everyone testing a vocation to authorized ministry, ordained and lay.
I’ll second Kimberly – that last paragraph is fantastic. A lot of folks I went to seminary with really just didn’t like the church – they seemed to like the idea of ministry, or serving God, or something like that – but they didn’t have any love for the church with all of its quirks and protocol and manners, as you put it. We can and should see where the church falls short and work to move it closer to God’s dream for the church, but that’s got to start with a love relationship, and humility – the church has gotten along without any of us for a long, long time, just like congregations get along just fine without interns. Anyway, end of rant. Thanks for starting this discussion!
I have to say- it’s a little unfair to say that (in the example of the student who’d never had a job before) there were things he should have already known. I know I was an amazing clod myself, and my field ed parish, chaplaincy, and first parish were my first professional jobs, and there were things I didn’t know but had to learn. (Professional dressing, appropriate and professional use of email, why I couldn’t change the world in one year…)
In all experiences, there are things we don’t know, but should. That is why we have the learning experience. A good mentor and lay committee gently call us out on our mistakes while building us up for our success.
In the case of the lady clod (who cut off the senior minister), I wonder if she had the same problem I had- crippling stage fright. Ultimately, I took acting classes to learn to be comfortable with my body on stage, and worked with a therapist (who every minister should have in their rolodex for personal use!) to work through the issues. [That’s a great idea. In the case I witnessed, the seminarian actually put a colleague in physical danger, which is why I was so incensed about it. I think we need to know ourselves well enough to know that when we get flustered we are a veritable bull in a china shop and PREPARE ourselves so that we don’t damage the church’s good china (in this case, a very fine china indeed!). It is up to the seminarian to take care of this!! Taking part in a service isn’t just about writing words. It is about being able to make it up to the pulpit and out in one piece, and about delivering the reading or whatever with a modicum of professional presence (her delivery was lackluster to say the least). If aspirants to the ministry aren’t at least that self-aware, I have no further advice to them except “Good luck, and hopefully someone will finally pull you aside and enlighten you if you are so in the dark about your own growing edges.” – PB]
Sometimes cloddish behavior gives you insight as to where to focus a person’s training. In my case, it was teaching me to be comfortable being looked at, despite my deep, deep shyness. (Yes, in my next life, I will not answer the call from God to go into a job where I stand up in front of 100 people and talk every week!)
@Wendy – not all denominations are as careful in helping potential seminarians determine a call and then providing watch care through the process. Some, like my own, don’t even know someone is in seminary until the student initiates the ordination process.
That having been said, last year we attempted to provide placement for two seminarians. The first was a woman approaching middle age, a professional person who accepted the position with us after an interview (for which she was late), then bailed on us just before the position started. The second was a young man (though not fresh out of college) who never showed for an interview. We found out later that he had decided not to return to seminary this semester. Of course, he never bothered to let us know.
So I wonder how these people ever expect to become trusted with peoples’ precious lives when they don’t even know how to observe the basic courtesies and commitments of life. I also wonder if we are, as a congregation and potential mentor, the proverbial chopped liver…
Susan, I appreciate that I had some ‘advantages’–all our students were approved for ordination/licensing, and the diocese paid for their training. And they all had to be placed within the diocese, and I had some pre-established relationships with/knowledge of the clergy.
That said, if an internship is a requirement for the seminary degree, that’s sort of separate from denominational requirements. And a good placement/internship officer at the seminary is responsible for making sure all sides know what the requirements for this component of the training are. If it’s credit-bearing or you otherwise can’t graduate without it, clear expectations and criteria are as important as any other course in the curriculum.
It sounds to me that although the students in question aren’t exactly championship material,the training institution is falling down too. And there’s no real excuse for that. They’re also a ‘quality control’–if the host minister interviews someone for an internship, and decides against, feedback to the training institution is vital in helping that student develop.
I didn’t do an internship for my seminary training, as I was doing a ‘straight’ theology degree. But I did one back in the bronze age when I did an MBA in arts administration. It was a great experience, largely because my university, host organization, and I knew what was required of this part of the training.
I was also in a parish in one diocese that had a placement student for a term every year for the eight years I was there. It became both well-known as a parish that was a good learning experience, and one that the seminary could trust. Our interns were mainly a very good thing, and the congregation welcomed them.
So, I’ve seen the placement from several angles. And I really do think that although either the student or the host minister/congregation can be less than stellar, a lot of heartache for all can be avoided if the training institution steps up to its task.
Good article – thanks for venting! This should be mandatory reading for all going into an internship as well as those who are supervising.
When I did my internship, I remember being terrified and a bit in awe. I was also young (24) and had never had a “real” job before. The minister I worked with was fabulous and we joked later that my initial learning curve was so steep it went backwards 🙂 The congregation was amazing and was willing to try some new ideas I proposed and taught me a lot too. I did a lot of listening, a lot of observing, and asked questions that helped in my formation. 8 years later, I still point to that year as pivotal in helping me to grow into my call to ministry
Being a youngster and an intern myself, I will admit that I make mistakes all the dang time. [We all do, kid. Maybe not in worship so much, but in other areas of ministry. – PB] I am constantly missing my cues in worship and stumbling over my words in the pulpit and once I even told a woman who was watching her husband die to “Have a nice day!” *cringe*
But I am honest, I can laugh at myself, I try to be professional in all situations, and I communicate well. As a member of the Internet Generation, or whatever we are, I have a difficult time, sometimes, discerning when it’s in/appropriate to email, or how exactly to address someone who is my colleague and also three times my age. Can a girl get a little slack here? These things are hard to navigate!
And not all of us are blessed with mentors who can guide us and say, “Sweetie, that’s not an appropriate thing to say in a professional email” et cetera. My mother tried her best to teach me proper etiquette, but most of my peers, I daresay, had no such luxury.
Please be open, I suppose I’m saying, to those of us who aren’t cocky and arrogant and entitled-feeling, but just stupid and frightened and TRYING. There are a great number of us youngsters who are just looking for validation because we honestly are unsure of ourselves, not because we are intentionally being jerks.
In sum, don’t write us all off as the negative intern experiences you’ve had, please! [I have had only great interns myself, and mentored lovely new ministers who had a fine sense of respect, so I wouldn’t! The mistakes you mention above are to be expected; we all make them. But trust me when I tell you that I can tell the difference between “trying” and “assuming.” I need to be hard on y’all here because many of the people I’m writing to won’t hear it otherwise. – PB]
@Jane — not to fret, Grasshopper! The point is that we have all been there. And I had a mentor who taught me what NOT to do by example (he was fired the week after my school year ended), and one who taught me WHAT to do (I still want to be like him when I “grow up”). When I graduated I knew that I wasn’t ready to take on a congregation by myself, so I took a place as an associate.
There are congregations that see their ministry as providing training grounds for pastors and who will lovingly challenge and teach you, then send you off into the world. And if you come to them with an attitude about your own superior theological/counseling/liturgical skills they will give you what for.
Wendy, you’re absolutely right about the institutions’ need to provide quality control on both sides of the equation. We never got a response when we complained about either of those candidates (and it was two different institutions involved).
Bless you, my queen. Among many other things, you’ve just filled me with fresh gratitude for the battle-scarred veteran who was my own supervisor, long ago and far away.
what a great post!
I did my internship last year, and my supervising minister gave me great advice right at the beginning – remember that you are a student. you don’t have to pretend you know everything. no one expects perfection from you. let yourself risk and make mistakes – that is how you will grow.
I think there is some pressure to start the internship and be fully formed – which is silly, because of course we student ministers are not finished with formation yet, and as you write, the internship is a critical piece of that formation.
When I was thinking about internship, I knew there were several areas of ministry I wanted to focus on. I wrote to ministers whose churches did really well in those areas – and lifted up the particular reasons I wanted to do my internship with them. This helped it not be a cold call letter, and helped me discern which churches/ministers might be a good fit for me (I had the benefit of being in my district for a long time, over a decade, in a professional capacity, so I knew the church dynamics pretty well.).
I hope this isn’t presumptuous (I’m not ordained or even employed by a church) but I think it can be problematic if a person becomes a minister without having had any other job.
If it were up to me, everyone in America would have to work in low-level retail or fast food for at least two years before going to college. It’s an incredible crash course in people skills, humility, and the ugly realities of life. There are a lot of things you just don’t understand until you’ve worked in customer service. [That’s a REALLY good point. I think it’s completely valid. I learned so much from years in retail, as a secretary, etc. Going from academic setting to the hallowed halls of seminary leaves one without a lot of essential life skills.- PB]
When I was in seminary one of the students in the program was contacting local ministers inappropriately looking for internship sites. One of the local ministers reported his mistakes to his faculty advisor. It stopped and the word went out that we were enter internship negotiations with better regard for the circumstances.
One of the problems with our current system is that those going to non-denominational seminaries are not receiving the nurture from ministers in their programs. They are then nearing the end of their academic education unaware of the etiquette of internship seeking. Some programs in some seminaries do not require an internship or field education at all. I remember meeting someone years ago who had her M.Div. and was seeking an internship. In my seminary it was true that the internship was part of the degree program and was monitored by the professor of ministry–including the search for an internship. So some students do not have another UU minister to tell them the proper protocol.
That, and their mothers and fathers didn’t rear them right. Common sense should be sufficient in approaching someone for help under the circumstances. Honestly, people used to have better manners. As a child my mother insisted that I right a formal note thanking everyone who ever gave me a present or did me a favor. It set the precedent.
I can relate to the shy rabbit in headlights feeling – after one incident I think I am learning to control it. My first time reading the lesson was in a church with marble floors and a wooden box you stood on to make yourself visible over the massive carved lectern. After squeaking out my reading, I opted to dismount from this thing sideways in an attempt to escape more quickly, whereupon it shot one way and I shot the other. Fortunately there were no more readings, so no little old ladies queuing up at the side for their turn, or we would have had an impromptu bowling demonstration as I cannoned into them, and I am a laydee of enhanced hunkitude. A couple of weeks later the verger nailed a handrail onto the box.
Amen, PB. Thanks for putting it out there in no uncertain terms.
In 10 years of ministry, I have been blessed to supervise with 6 official staff interns and mentor 2 other seminarians. In most cases, they have been professional and gracious and made all-within-the realm-of-normal mistakes. I appreciate the challenge they bring to the church and to me, with all their idealism and big program concepts. I want to help them channel that energy in ways that the church can use.
This fall, however, I accepted a Field Education student who had all the entitlement you describe. One month into the internship, I had to tell him to get in or get out. He told me he was getting out in a 2-line e-mail, then refused to return my calls or e-mails for a week. When we finally scheduled a meeting (which was a gift of my time to see him through this decision), he didn’t show up. It was an awful experience for me and the church, and he had/has no regard for the damage he has done.
I documented the whole experience and filed it with our Committee on Ministry, but I am still trying to get over my anger and frustration. Reading this helped. Thanks. [This happens all too often. So sorry. – PB]
PeaceBang, I think this is a wonderful post and I wholeheartedly agree with everything you said here. What really concerns me is the responses I receive from my Committee on Ordained Ministry. Whenever I email them, I always address them as “Rev. So-and-So” and follow the conventions of a formal letter, ending with with my full name as a signature. Despite my attempts at proper address, I am continually urged to refer to the Chairs and Registrar of the Committee to use their first names.[You’re doing the right thing. Keep doing it. And maybe just say, “I just don’t feel comfortable with that level of familiarity but as we get to know each other better maybe I’ll get there! – PB] I also sometimes get one-liner responses. Granted, my ordaining body is in Ohio, and etiquette is less strict in the Midwest than the East Coast (especially Boston). Still, it puts me in a strange position, since I continue to use proper forms of address and letter structure. Email can be used in one’s permanent record, so I don’t think it’s appropriate to be on a first-name basis in email that isn’t there in real life.
I also want to echo Angela’s comment that “the pressure to present oneself as a fully formed minister for the sake of passing the ‘discernment test,’ getting approval from the committees, etc., makes it difficult to feel free as an intern to watch and learn rather than to assume full responsibility and authority as proof that we are ‘qualified and called.’” Yes! I have a friend who was discontinued (ordination process permanently terminated by the Committee) for the reason that she “wasn’t called.” It is terrifying to know that any hint of uncertainty can be interpreted that way. In my recent interview with the Committee, I was expected to both show humility and willingness to learn, but also be able to answer every theological and doctrinal question thrown at me for 3 hours. It’s so difficult to hold those things in tension: how can you make sure to come off as informed, intelligent, and self-assured yet also humble and freely admitting that you have so much to learn? I’m supposed to know everything about theology/ doctrine/ church history and yet not know almost everything about practical ministry.
I’m not saying there has to be answer to these things, but I’m just musing on the contradictions apparent in my church’s ordination process.
My intern, the student who’d never had a job before…Trust me, this was not a snobbish remark. He had never had a job before. No paper route, lemonade stand, nothing. By “things he should have known” I am speaking of: arriving to work AND WORSHIP on time, keeping a list of his personal appointments (yes, he had never used a calendar, paper or digital), keeping track of materials for his work (files, members’ information, even supplies like pens and floppy discs), how to identify himself when answering or placing calls on the office phone, and the like. I assisted him in this. Firmly but graciously. For the first two weeks. Was it personally
irritating? Sure. But he figured it out. [You were a good mother duck to this duckling. But again, it wasn’t a character flaw, just major inexperience. I don’t think ministry supervisors should have to do such remedial sorts of training; you were a good sport. – PB]
Amen, but I think you’re probably preaching to the choir. My seminary does a great job matching and training interns and their supervisors and warning us off of what is frankly just stupid behavior, especially stupid behavior on the internet. Yet I keep reading Facebook posts from interns who are whining about long hours and naming which kind of liquor they are using to get through the day. At first I thought it was just the ‘never had a job’ folks, but then a 50+ intern made fun of her council secretary for a typo, describing the church in every detail except the mailing address. On Facebook! It makes me want to hide under my desk and generally gives our class a bad reputation.
I wish all my classmates read your advice. But based on clothing choices (low-cut cocktail dresses in publicly accessible pictures, undershirts and track shoes at continuing education events) my guess is that the message isn’t getting through.
I know I probably sound like a pretty pompous intern, but as a person who takes the ministry really seriously, I’m getting frustrated at my peers who seem like “careless” is the image they most want to project.
And then, sometimes, there’s The Wonderful Intern–the one that makes you sigh with relief about the future of the church universal. The one who knows the appropriate time to listen, to speak, to follow, to lead, to trust, and to question. The one whose sermons are so thoughtful and clear that you are inspired to re-examine your own. The one who tithes a portion of her meager stipend back to the church. The one who teaches you as much as you teach them. I have been blessed to know this intern too, and while I totally get the importance of the rant about interns who are not so wonderful, I want to count my blessings for having known many good interns and a few Wonderful Ones! [AMEN! I feel that way whenever I hang out with or teach seminarians. So many of them are awesome. – PB]
Voltaire wrote, “To succeed in the world it is not enough to be stupid, you must also be well-mannered.”
As a seminarian who will be looking for an internship opportunity soon, would you send me some information? We should talk soon.
😉
THANK YOU for writing this article. I too am embarrassed at the lack of professionalism that comes from the arrogant types that serving God sometimes seems to attract.
Not MY arrogance, of course. THEIRS. [I’m NEVER arrogant myself! 🙂 – PB]
Keep up the good work!
-Lauren
PB.
I just love you.
You have said it all. ALL. And oh the joy of an intern/curate who will take instruction (she said, thinking lovingly of a number of young men and women…) for what it is.
-Rambler
It was helpful reading this in the context of a sabbatical-fill-in at the seminary where I graduated. Because I have been instructing/advising new preachers this semester, I marveled at the similarities between what you discuss here — interns’ professional demeanor — and students’ pulpit demeanors. What I observe in student preachers, is an assumption that good preaching should be “casual.”
“Hey, it’s more authentic and natural for me to preach in blue jeans. Why should I have to step things up a notch. Y’all so stuffy.”
It comes down to the same besetting sins — arrogance, presumption and entitlement.
That said, I love my students and I don’t find any one of them to be a horrible full-on embodiment of these characteristics. More so, I see it creeping in around the edges. Infuriating nonetheless though. [Bingo. – PB]