Aw, darlings. How good it was to spend a day with many of you on Wednesday of this past week for the 2030 United Church of Christ annual conference, Shepherding the Shepherd. I gave a keynote address that was lots of raucous fun and I look forward to your being able to view it on YouTube (perhaps some kind person will edit it for the juiciest bits?). After the keynote, I led a workshop for a large group of you called “The Slings and Arrows of Outrageous Ministry: Showing Up When You Don’t Want To Or Think You Can.”
Ouch, was that a tough one.
It was tough because there was not one among us there who didn’t have multiple stories of having been the walking wounded in ministry, and showing up while carefully trying to hide our limp or the flow of lifeblood from our guts from the congregation.
The stories flowed fast and hard and easily. Everyone had a tale of being abused, beat up on, or simply taken for granted. No one disagreed with me when I said, “You’re all working TOO HARD. No one in the church has any idea of what you really do, how much of it you do, and what it costs you, body and soul. 96% of ministry is invisible to the broader community, so don’t even try to explain yourself or ward off criticism. It will come fast and furiously no matter you do, unless you keep your head down, your mouth shut, and your face all smiles all the time — and if you do that, you’re not doing the work of ministry but the work of indulgence.” I have said this so often in other settings to both lay people and clergy alike: if you’re not making some people uncomfortable, you’re functioning as a social director, a museum curator or a babysitter. I switch around my expressions, but you get the idea, and this sentiment never fails to get an AMEN from the participants. They are, after all, the ones who are devoting their time to the mission of the church!
The work of ministry requires boldness, challenge, and the ability to tolerate a LOT of discomfort in a community that probably has a very low threshold for it. It means being out front as a leader when most people would rather have you step back and support them in being and doing exactly what they’ve been being and doing all their lives. “Always have your bags packed,” I said. “We cannot do anything worthy in ministry if we’re worried about job security.”
We talked about how the energy centers of our bodies take hits at times of crisis and sorrow. I urged each one present to find a care TEAM — not just a supportive person, but a care TEAM, to help them mend and repair their body, heart and soul on an on-going and constant basis. We talked about psychic vampiring, people with no boundaries who want to be the minister’s friend, or favorite child, or spiritual mistress/affair. We talked about the projections to which we are all subject as clergy, and the relentless demands on our time and attention. We talked about the fact that we can never do enough, that most of our advice and counsel is ignored, and that we still live in an era where clergy are seen as benign irrelevancies — quaint vestiges of the past — rather than as professionals who are trained and have achieved competency in leadership, systems theories, organizational development and non-profit management.
When I broke you up into small groups to talk about the worst moments in your ministries and how you responded, and to reflect on what tools you had in your toolkit to help you function in the midst of crisis, I overheard several of you say that you were currently in the worst moments of your ministries. I heard words buzzing around the room like “abuse” “jail” “bullying” “acting out” “scapegoating” “depressed” “alone” “backstabbing” and “violation.”
We reviewed the times when it is hardest to keep showing up:
during times when the minister is depressed
is ill, or has been diagnosed with a disease that is not immediately evident or debilitating
having marital problems
has suffered a crime to body or property
is having serious trouble parenting
is overwhelmed with family concerns in the extended family
is under financial burden that he or she cannot discuss, such as supporting a friend or relative
is being stalked by a church member or someone in the denomination or former lover
is painfully lonely and isolated
is struggling with sexual identity issues
can’t get pregnant/miscarriage
has memory loss or some other new, invisible disability
It is always hard to get together with clergy and tell the truth of how hard it can get, and how exploited ministers can be (and this is true, I think, especially for the young and/or new clergy who will take ANY call for the thrill of experiencing their first parish settlement). The flip side of that is to be treated as a shining saint, a perfect darling of a community who can do no wrong… and to be held so high on a pedestal that no one remember that you’re flesh and blood and not alabaster.
It’s a conversation that I hope will encourage more conversation and better self-care, fairer expectations, and thicker skin. Remember, they killed Jesus at a young age and you’re hoping to last for a lot longer. Don’t be a savior and don’t kid yourself that you have a saintly disposition. Work hard, be well supported so you can give generously of yourself without becoming bitter, spiritually contorted and resentful, and buy a few Teflon bras or BVD’s, if you know what I mean.
PeaceBang’s Five Steps to Showing Up When You Don’t Want To Or Think You Can
PeaceBang’s Five Steps to Showing Up
1. Put the oxygen mask over your own face first, no matter what. Don’t make a phone call or send an e-mail before you do. Consult frequently with trusted, respected colleagues and mentors and more than frequently during times of crisis.
2. Take the transition time you need, even between events (from the hospital to the meeting, or from the meeting to the pulpit, for instance). Rushing from one event or conversation to the next is sure way to make serious emotional and professional mistakes. The intensity of our work makes it very dangerous for us to zip from event to event or encounter to encounter without processing and considering where we have been and where we are going.
3. When you most feel like crap, you have to look like gold. Do NOT ever fool yourself that the congregation wants to minister to a vulnerable pastor. They will deeply resent you. As a dear friend once told me, “We run TO pain, most people run away from it.” Do NOT BLEED ON YOUR LAY PEOPLE. TRY not to. If you must, save it for once in a rare while. Like once a decade.
4. Know your energy centers and repair them frequently through prayer and body work.
5. Get help. Make that a priority. Do not think you can do this alone or that your spouse/Sig Other can do it all for you. Do not rely on one measly monthly prayer meeting to sustain you in the work of ministry. One of the reasons you must advocate for fair compensation for yourself is so you can pay for good therapy, body work, a gym, a massage therapist, a Reiki practitioner, chiropractor, juicing machine, healthy food, a decent vacation, a housecleaner, a Spiritual Director, or whatever other caregivers and service providers you feel you need in your life so you can function as a whole and loving human being.
Even looking out over that sea of sweet pastor faces and reading the pain there, I saw such love, such desire to serve faithfully, such resilience, such hope and such humor. I was honored to be with you and bless you with all my heart in all that you do for God’s church, and for all that you are.
Well, I’m not a minister, but I’m the daughter of one, and have experienced first-hand the family fall-out of my parent’s toxic church(es). PB, you are right on with all this good advice. People, do what she says!!
Read often, hardly comment – but I needed to say thank you for this. THANK YOU!! [You are most very welcome, darling. Kisses across the pond to you. - PB]
Well said; thank you. The exhortation to try not to bleed all over the congregation–or at least, only once every decade or so–is spot on. I admit that during the time when my husband was sick and dying ,I ended up lowering some of the boundaries and allowing ‘my’ people to minister to me. That was a wonderful gift. A couple of years later, the congregation took great interest in my blossoming courtship and eventual engagement to a dear old friend. (Nothing like life in the fishbowl). My second marriage was the first wedding at our new church building. The whole congregation was invited. It was an awesome occasion, and one hell of a party (also at the new church, with a potluck supper, some good wine, and dancing to the music of an excellent local swing band (the band was a wedding gift from some dear parishioners). I’m all for boundaries and the wisdom of serpents and all, but have also been glad to be able to be a little more vulnerable with the congregation (at least, on rare occasions and in the company of well-trusted folks).
[What a BEAUTIFUL story! This is church at its very best! Mazel tov on your second marriage! - PB]
With luck, the exhortation to not bled on the congregation can ease a bit the longer you are in ministry in one place. . .and, as Jean noted, can be a great thing for a congregation (have had to have two knee surgeries while here — “just” clean-outs — and I learned some great things about their abilities, and they learned more about who they are called to be.) I have a wonderful group that meets weekly “for lectionary” — which means we check in with one another, solve all the problems of the world, and sometimes (if we are lucky) get to the lectionary texts for Sunday. Grateful for this group (which has changed in composition in 11+ years) as it has helped to keep me sane. It has also served as the place to kick me in the backside when I am wallowing in the pity party — or trying to play “my life is worse than yours” — a little game we clergy play so well.
I love this and needed the reminder, even though I’m reminding myself of this every day. Thank you.
BP, How do we do this in a PT , tent making, or other non FT ministry setting?
Well, I think the same way you do it in any setting, but adjust so that it’s realistic for you. Ministry is risky business whether you’re in a full time parish setting or whether you’re doing part time chaplaincy in a hospital, right?
As a member of the congregation, and not clergy, although I think I see what you’re trying to say in point 3, I think that congregations need to understand and recognize that the gal (or guy) in the pulpit is nothing else than a fragile human being like themselves. And ministry really ought to be 2-way. Our previous pastor went through thyroid cancer when he was with us, plus a number of other serious health issues. As a congregation we weren’t as good as we should have been at ministering to him, and of course he wanted to keep some of what was going on inside a smaller circle of friends, but I think we got better at is as time went on (and he got better at letting us) and it was a good lesson learned for all of us. So I’m with Jean on this one – and would add that in these situations its the congregation’s job to make things work.
About bleeding on the congregation — yes and…It can be powerful for our congregations when we acknowledge our own wounds and then model being as faithful in our responses as we know how to be. It can also be debilitating for the congregation to be co-opted into a pastor’s own disfunction. There’s a now old book called “The Addictive Organization” that should be required reading for every pastor — congregations can assume the role of enabler as easily as a pastor can…
Thanks for the great recommendations!
This is a wonderful post. I am not a minister but I worked for my former church for two years and saw abuse of clergy first hand. I will never look at churches and ministers the same way again. I try to be supportive and considerate of my current minister, as well as coming to the defense when necessary. I wish that somehow, someway, more laypeople could be clued in to some of the points you make here. Any suggestions on how to make that happen?
THANK YOU! I’ve just been verbally abused by a (former) parishioner, who followed up by calling, cursing and shouting at another parishioner. Thanks be to God for kind neighbors, my godbaby’s grandparents, and a great bishop and diocesan staff.
And yes, it’s extra hard when there are other things going on in your own life. My sweet 5-year-old nephew is being treated for a brain tumor; that’s always first in my mind, whatever else happens in the parish. [Holding you in prayer. xxoo - PB]
Thank you for ther reminder. Especially needed it today after a VERY awkward committee meeting, where the chair was somewhat clueless about what I do, and how long it takes to get those things done.
As a parishioner not a clergy member, I respect and admire the good advice you give to our pastors in your article. However, it might also be remembered that priests also sometimes tend to set themselves apart, even to the point of being “on high”…and make it quite difficult, or impossible for us, the parishioners to find any intimacy or contact with them. I know they need to protect themselves from some of the pushy and critical and less friendly members, but when you reject the offer of friendship, of support, or any kind of intimacy, then I cannot see how else we can feel but rejected! I tried many many times to provide support, friendship and confidentiality (I was a Stephen Ministry Leader) to a pastor, which was always rejected …in his own efforts to protect himself. Sorry…but it works in both directions! Lets remember we are (all) learning to be good, kind Christians…not just the pastors! If you need us to be or do something we aren’t fulfilling on, please say so to our faces..we need to have that trust and that human touch ! Very often it seems to me, the clergy set themselves well apart…and above…rather than become close to any of us! It was a great sadness to me, and I think to the clergy as well, that there was so little communication or trust.
[Danny, thank you for this great comment. This is such an important conversation! Clergy are trained in maintaining boundaries and it's a very delicate balance to love and be in relationship with parishioners but not to violate boundaries or expect them to take care of us in the way that friends do. Some pastors don't do well with this balance and do not achieve intimacy on any level with their people, keeping them at arm's length throughout their tenure and hurting feelings in the process (as well as failing to model that ministry is about both giving AND receiving the care of the Church. Then there is the complicated matter of getting closer to some parishioners than others -- a perfectly natural occurrence but one that leads to some complaining about "favorites" or "inner circles." Challenging questions! Thanks for weighing in. - PB]
Just completing my 2nd year of parish ministry…have asked those I lead and serve to take me off the pedestal, as they only get a great view of my bum and that’s not exactly what I want them focused on…
while i know we strive to not get enmeshed in unhealthy situations…i wonder about the idea of “always have your bags packed”. in Benedictine monasticism they take three vows, one of which is stability. you are expected to hang in with a given community, not flit from place to place, always looking for a better/holier/safer place to grow in Christ community. it seems there is a struggle we need to live in to here: as a culture we often “cut and run” quickly, whether it is a job, a marriage, a house, a friendship. as clergy, when do we know to hang in through the tough times and bitter times, and when do we really know it is time to go? thoughts? [An excellent reflection. In my tradition, there is a tremendous amount of forcing the minister out by parishioners who think that their discomfort is a sign of the pastor's failure. When I say "keep your bags packed" I am speaking from the Congregational tradition where the minister serves at the pleasure of the congregation -- and they're the ones who often want the minister to hit the road rather than abide with discomfort, uncertainty or mutual disappointment. I am ALL FOR longer, more stable pastorates! As in a marriage, every meaningful relationship experiences its share of ups and downs and the parties grow all the stronger and deeper for it. But I see a lot of ministries blowing up over all sorts of things that are not the minister's fault and are, in fact, part of our rapidly changing culture. So I'm just being practical! Although your question begs another: "If we have the bags-packed mentality and are always ready to leave, does that make us less likely to put down the deep roots of love and commitment that a congregation needs to feel from its minister in order to really trust him or her?" It depends where you are. If you serve in a transient area, your roots are just as deep as anyone else's. If you serve a historic congregation, you'll still be the "new girl in town" after a decade! And I speak from experience there! - PB]
just wondered what your thoughts are on ministerial relations commmittees; I am hearing that more and more churches don’t have them or want them. I think they are an important safety valve in the congregation to facilitate communication, especially when things are difficult.
as a lay leader in a church which has seen more turnover than most would want, including the ministerial leadership, we are reflecting on our role and how to change this in the future.
of course ministerial sexual or other types of abuse can lead to ‘dismissal” or resignation, but in your scenario of “hang in there”, what other factors do you think should lead to a parting of the ways? from your writing, it sounds like congregations should hang in there no matter what. I’m not sure I agree, but am curious about what other factors should lead to a parting (other than the minister has a better job offer or another reason they want to go). Can you share your thinking of what would make it ok for a congregation to say it isn’t working?
[Hi JD, thanks for writing. I think that Ministry Committees are important for the reasons you state, but have heard many nightmare stories of them being "beat up teams" to do nothing but communicate disappointments and criticisms to the pastor. How demoralizing! On the other hand, one wants a Committee on Ministry with members one trusts with sensitive information and to be supportive, but not to the extent that they can't say, "You could have handled that better. How can we help you make a better choice next time?" The balance of support and challenge is crucial. And here's where I give a shout-out to my own Committee on Ministry! As for the parting of ways, I am sorry if it sounded like I thought that congregations should hang in there "no matter what." I don't believe that at all, but I think that if there's not a conflict or series of serious disappointments and failures that make it evident that a departure is in the best interest of the church, it is wiser and fairer to have a heart-to-heart with the pastor to say, "This doesn't feel like a good ministry any more/here. Let's talk honestly about this and consider a transition" rather than giving into to anxious critics who actually think that forcing the minister out will solve the church's problems. Lay people also need to remember that the pastor is ministering in the community way beyond what they can see or will ever know about. WAY, way, way beyond, if my own experience is any indicator. While leaders might hear from 4-6 virulent critics, they should make it their business to put an ear to the wider ground beyond the inner circle of very active and vocal members. Ministers must remember to do this, too. Sometimes it helps to make a list. "Who would be psyched if I resigned" on one side of the page and "Who would be heartbroken if I left" on the other. In my own ministry, some of my deepest relationships are with people who are never in the pews on Sunday due to work hours or family obligations. The other group that strikes me as significant to include in my ruminations on the success or failure of my ministry is the introverts and vulnerable folk who don't get involved. I've said it before and I'll say it again: 96% of what ministers do is invisible. Sunday mornings is our big moment, but even if that's not a great "performance," pastors are doing so much else. So everyone needs to do serious discernment about whether or not the ministry is working when things get uncomfortable or the stewardship drive didn't do well or the jungle drums are starting and folks are lighting their torches because they're bored, or they don't want to be challenged, or they want to hire someone younger, fresher and less expensive, or whatever it is that looks good when church isn't feeling like a good time. Ministers and lay people need to be in constant discernment about what GOD wants for the congregation and how to live into that mission. I think we focus way too much on the significance of the clergy in the first place! - PB]
Thanks PB for your timely words. I’m at our Annual Conference now and seeing so many of my colleagues who are walking wounded. I’m currently in the midst of extended family health issues (my mom has advanced metastatic breast cancer) but I have been blessed to serve a congregation that is supportive (they’ve sent meals, cleaned our house and done laundry all without being asked!) as well as an amazing covenant group of sisters who have held me up. I work with the provisional elders and deacons in our conference and we will be addressing the necessity of self care at one of their upcoming retreats.
As a lay person, I’ve struggled to be one of the good guys and be supportive. It’s tricky, as I want to find a way to do that without coming off as a sycophant. Also, I worry about seeming to promise I’ll always agree when I know that’s constitutionally impossible for me; I can, however, promise to respect the pastor’s position and the difficulty of ministering.
One thing to consider is inviting lay people to make specific gestures that seem right to accept. For instance, one associate clergy member went through major health issues and we clubbed together to provide frozen meals for him and his family. He and his wife needed help with child care, and they got a big enough rota of people to help out that no one person felt overly “special.” Someone else actively discouraged people from giving gifts, but then said she loved cards of any kind – commercial greeting cards, hand-made cards, old postcards. In the midst of difficult parish politics, it’s often hard to figure out how to be present in a situation without muddying the waters. If it’s possible to express a wish in a concrete way (“Wouldn’t it be nice if someone baked me a pound cake or knit me some mittens.”), it’s more likely that someone can step forward and grant that wish.
Interesting post to read after experiencing a joyous but also exhausting life milestone, the birth of a healthy child, while my clergy spouse was serving part-time in an internship in a church, a major denomination. The newborn days were extra hard since I had a C-section. I would have loved loved loved if someone had gifted us with food in those newborn days, such as dropping off a pie or loaf of banana bread or pan of macaroni or giving it to my husband on Sunday morning, but no-one ever did. A few people gave us lovely useful things and a number of people gave us things we couldn’t use and actually made our lives more difficult because we had to write a thank you note and dispose of the item, such as awkwardly designed items handmade out of ugly scratchy acrylic yarn. Actually the things were usually handed to my spouse at church while I was home; he did not keep good track of the givers and when he brought them home in my sleep-deprived, pain-medicated state I did not retain the information of who had given him what so many people did not get thank you notes. When I finally made it to church sometimes I felt an undercurrent of disappointment from people due to the lack of thank you notes but hopefully I was imagining it; I did not come up with a tactful way to connect gifts to givers and rectify the situation.
Also after the birth I could hardly ever go to the church because we also have a toddler and the church is really child-unsafe and there was no way to safely manage the toddler if I was breastfeeding the baby– the sanctuary was chock-full of hazards such as random pieces of lumber with nail ends sticking out and steep life-threatening stairs down to the basement, the nursery “area” was only accessible down the steep, life-threatening concrete stairs, no elevator; no nursery staff; no walls around the nursery “area” so the toddler could easily wander off and get into things in the basement such as the boiler room; coffee hour very crowded so it was extra hard to manage an active toddler and avoid grabbing of cups of hot coffee left on low tables; not even a changing table in the whole church! My spouse brought things up sometimes in meetings but did not feel he had the authority or resources to change the situation.
Back to people giving us things, the worst was when we were deep in preparations to go out of town the next morning to visit relatives with the toddler and the newborn. A parishioner called and we did not pick up the phone; she left 2 messages that she wanted to see the baby today and bring something, please call her back. Knock, knock, there she was at the door (we live several miles from the church) and came in and stayed for over half an hour and did not seem to take the hint even when we talked about packing to go out of state the next day. After that we realized we need to have boundaries and strategies and plans for keeping people out when they show up uninvited at bad times.
For the most part I did not feel particularly ministered to…
The previous comment has so much pain in it. How sad that the congregation missed some chances to minister to you.
Some things, I think, are just the breaks of life, like the people who “gave us things we couldn’t use and actually made our lives more difficult because we had to write a thank you note and dispose of the item, such as awkwardly designed items handmade out of ugly scratchy acrylic yarn.” Family and best friends do that, too. The solution is to send a thank you note, bury the item in the back of a closet until you can deal with it, and hope they will be tactful enough not to say “I never see little cutiepie wearing that granny-squares sweater I made her! Didn’t you like it?” And never, ever leak the fact that you thought any gift was awkwardly designed or ugly or useless. They made your baby something by hand. The important ingredient isn’t the acrylic, it’s the love.
Losing track of who gave what also happens outside the church. The only way I know to handle it is to send a very gracious thank you to some public forum, such as the newsletter: “In the joyful confusion right after Little Cutiepie’s birth, we lost the paper that detailed who had given us each of the lovely gifts. Please know we are very grateful for everything we received, and we would like to thank each of you in person.”
It sounds as if many of the ways the congregation let you down were exactly the ways it is letting other, non-clergy-spouse members down. No meals rotation for families who have just welcomed a baby, or cluelessness about the importance of dropping off the casserole, saying a quick “hello, oh my goodness what a beautiful child,” and leaving. A child-unsafe space. No changing tables. These things need to change, and they don’t turn around on a dime, but I hope that your husband’s voicing concerns about them might inspire changes that will help future new parents.
I think it is totally appropriate for the congregation to minister to the minister and spouse on occasions such as a birth. Likewise, many clergy speak with gratitude of how their congregations took care of them upon the death of their parents. The troubles arise when the care is not only given upon extraordinary occasions, but that the congregation constantly feels as if it needs to take care of the minister. That level of need should be addressed by one’s friends, family, therapist, dog . . . If we wouldn’t want our therapist to demand equal time and spend just as long telling us her troubles as we spent telling her ours, then we as clergy shouldn’t put our congregants in that situation. There are, or should be, other people for us to lean on. [Lovely, wonderful comment. Hear, hear. - PB]
Danny Cutting’s comment above reminds me of this piece by Mark Morrison-Reed:
http://www.uua.org/documents/morrison-reedmark/afterthistles.pdf
Thank you for sharing this reflection – I really appreciated your time with us at the 2030 conference, and I wanted to stay for your whole workshop but had to leave early to prepare for worship. So thank you for sharing this! I’ve been in my current setting for 16 months now, and this past year has been very challenging for me on a personal level. Last year I seriously injured my ankle, which left me in a wheelchair for a month and with a cane for several months after that (great way to experience what our building/property is like for differently abled people – and it’s pretty good!). And in the last 5 months, I’ve lost my dad, my grandfather, and my cat. I’m doing all I can to keep giving myself oxygen (counseling, exercise, massage, working from home when needed). And, it’s a constant dance to be a pastor who is a vulnerable human being but who doesn’t rely on the church to meet my needs.
I think I’m doing fairly well at that – and it helps to have these reminders! Thank God for a supportive, understanding partner and some great colleagues in town. But some days/weeks, it can sure be hard to show up.
Thanks to Amy for your comments above. I recognize that my vent about the “ugly acrylic items” did sound mean-spirited and unappreciative. i had a particular item in mind when I wrote it; when we unwrapped it we noticed unidentified dried brown gunk on it, somewhat mysterious until I ran into the giver weeks later and she told me that her mother is a knitter extraordinaire, and she had asked her for something. I surmise that the item had already been made and had sat around for awhile, perhaps picking up the gunk from pets? A snack? That does not diminish the thoughtfulness of the parishioner or her nice gesture and I did do my best to be gracious in thanking her. In both her case and the woman who came over when we were trying to pack I did feel as if I was being called to minister to them and I tried (though I did self-indulgently engage in some venting on this blog). A child is a blessing beyond measure.
I think also my reaction underscores a recurrent theme on this blog, the importance of self care– for both clergy and their spouses. I recognize that an important part of my self-care is regular worship and prayer, I tend not to be my best self without it, and logistics made it much harder to get after this baby was born, ironically partly because my husband was a clergyperson at this church. There was another church in the area that I would have liked to go to, with a beautiful playroom at the back of the sanctuary– I could have breastfed the baby while the toddler played and I listened to the service (and your spouse can’t be your pastor anyway, another good reason to go to another church!), but we only have one car right now so I could not get there. But all these things are temporary.
The church where my spouse is serving also has a staggering number of people who have lost children due to tragic circumstances in adulthood. Drawn to each other? I have often wondered about how that may unconsciously, unknowingly contribute to the shaping of a church space that is not able to physically embrace children. I think that perhaps this underlies the pain Amy saw in my letter– not so much my pain as theirs, which I have intuited and reflected, even from my place on the periphery.
Thank you to Amy for the suggestion about the announcement in the newsletter, that is a great idea.
Clergyspouse, with all that you have on your plate, I hesitate to suggest this (and I don’t think I did a good job with my previous comment), but if you can say something to the parish about the nursery space you will be helping other parents in your parish. When I read your comment about the space, I thought, “Wow, that is a parish that accepted second best a while back.” If you and your spouse are new to the parish and there’s enthusiasm for your new baby, this might be the time for your and/or your spouse to say something like, “We’d love to bring Emmanuel to church, but we need to do something about the nursery space.” Chances are that other prospective members have been turned off by it as well. Also, you may find that you have more support than you think. As a childless (never had kids/never will at this point) parishioner, I was among the people who insisted that our church budget include a salary for a well-trained and reliable care-giver. There may be other members of the church who want to see families there and who are willing to help out. This issue is more than pound cake or mittens, but it was what I meant by making wishes known.