The troubling question can come any time: “Just what is it that you do at your church? Are you the preacher?” Senior ministers, unlike associates, aren’t bothered by this question. “Yes, I am,” they confidently reply.
But as an associate minister, my very self-respect is challenged by this question. Immediately I’m confronted by an array of possible responses.
Humorous: “I am the preacher boy” (remember to laugh).
Descriptive: “I work with youth and have pulpit responsibilities” (and don’t give many details).
Succinct: “I am the associate minister” (fewer details).
My favorite: “I am one of the ministers at the Raleigh Church” (no details).
Kidding aside, despite the proliferation of multiply staffed churches in the past generation, most people still think in terms of having one preacher who has a bunch of helpers. The other ministers may be important, but since they aren’t “the main man,” well-meaning parishioners continue to ask associates, “When are you going to get your own church?”
Whether they view their present work as a stepping stone to getting your own church or a life-long calling, associate ministers have to come to terms with second-fiddle status. At least I have had to.
Here, in fact, are five strategies that have helped me enjoy the associate’s role.
Remember the silver lining
Before whining about my plight as a second-class preacher with lower pay, less prestige, and almost no invitations to speak at lectureships and Bible conferences, I try to remember the numerous advantages of being an associate.
Less pressure. Being an associate means not having to worry about everything. Only within the last year, for instance, have I given more than a passing thought to the budget and money matters at my congregation. It wasn’t my responsibility, so I didn’t worry about it; I just pick up my check and go to the bank. Besides, why worry about finances? None of my checks has ever bounced. But the senior pastor has that pressure.
I’ve seen what additional pressure does to a person. Our office manager took on the bookkeeping chores a few years ago. As these words are being typed, she is trying to decipher figures for next year’s budget. “I may have to work Saturday,” I heard her sigh. Taking this promotion has transformed a carefree woman into a pencil-chewing accountant who worries about each Sunday’s offering. The prestige that comes with more responsibility also brings more sleepless nights. No thanks.
More family time. Whenever I visit my preacher friend in another city, I’m reminded of my blessings as an associate. The telephone rings during every a meal at his house. My friend pastors a congregation a third of the size of mine but has less free time than I do. The difference? He is the only pastor, and I am one of a staff of four.
As for me, I get to tuck my children into bed six out of seven nights. I travel fewer than three weeks out of the year. I usually can take Friday afternoon off if I want. I work forty-five to fifty hours a week, but the schedule of an associate minister is still more flexible than that of the solo or senior pastor.
More personal relationships. Particularly in a large church, the senior minister is a rancher and not a shepherd, more an administrator and less a pastor. Being an associate provides the opportunity to develop deeper and more personal relationships in the congregation.
In fact, those with a calling to one-on-one ministry may find the associate’s role a good alternative to pastoring a small church. One master pulpiteer, who also served as the dean of a local seminary, noticed the difference at his church. As members filed out the back door on Sundays, they shook his hand. The long-term associate received hugs.
Take on what you can handle
Our preacher was on a three-month sabbatical, and the budget crunch was on. It was my moment to shine in the ecclesiastical sun. I proposed a fund-raising goal of $150,000, complete with pledge envelopes and an innovative theme, “Improving to Serve” (we needed to raise funds for badly needed building repairs). After promoting the cause and preaching my best two sermons on giving, the final tally stood at less than $50,000.
An elder summed up the failure: “You don’t go into the big game with your clean-up batter out of town.” I was a lead-off hitter with little power to the opposite field, and my swing for the fences fell short.
My failure was not entirely due to lack of ability. Failure also came because I was trying to do a job designed for someone else. Attempting the campaign when the senior minister was gone said to the congregation, “This fund-raising campaign is not that important after all.”
Once we realize the relationship of power and position, it’s smart to enlist the aid of church power brokers when we want to succeed. And if the preacher is good at it, have him make your announcement for volunteers. I’ve also tried to enlist the aid of members who wield influence. Some people call this playing politics. I call it people skills and good sense.
Let your light shine
Recently, a ten-year member of our church expressed amazement that our educational director was in charge of the nursery school. “I didn’t know he did that,” the member told me. He could be excused for his ignorance, I suppose. The director had been in charge of the nursery school for only twenty-seven years!
Never assume the congregation knows what you do. If you aren’t in the pulpit two times a week, the hospitals three times a week, and the auditorium class of two hundred as teacher, your church members may assume you play golf half the day and nap the rest. Some educating is in order.
So I advertise my wares. Especially through the church bulletins, I make sure people know what I’m doing by making sure they know what the groups I lead are doing.
Sometimes, of course, it works too well. When one admirer commented, “I just don’t see how you do all you do,” I was faced with a dilemma. Do I tell the truth and admit that although I administered all the functions, I attended about half of the youth activities listed in the bulletin, or do I keep my mouth shut? I opted for the middle road. I said, “Well, I don’t go to every event,” and hoped she would think I missed only one devotional every other year!
Promoting one’s work reminds me of the story of the lion and the tiger.
A tiger and a lion met by a pool.
Said the tiger, “Why are you roaring like a fool?”
“I’m no fool,” said the lion, a twinkle in his eyes,
“I’m called king of beasts because I advertise.”
A rabbit overheard them and ran home like a streak.
He tried the lion’s plan, but his roar was just a squeak.
Just then a fox chanced by and had lunch in the woods.
The moral: When you advertise, you’d best have the goods.
So, I try not to hide my light under a bushel. Nor do I take credit for things I don’t do. I do, however, let people know what, in fact, is happening in my ministry.
Take on some winners
In The Multiple Staff and the Larger Church, Lyle Schaller divides ministerial responsibilities into two types. “Winners” are activities that earn congregational appreciation and admiration: preaching, hospital calling, home visitation, weddings, and funerals. “Losers,” on the other hand, are the jobs that are often the source of criticism and disapproval: youth programs, Christian education, social action, evangelism, and ministry to young adults. Such ministries sometimes bring more problems than rewards.
The solution? Get involved in some winning activities. One youth minister visited hospitalized members the first week on the job and was surprised at the reaction. “Why, you don’t have to visit me. You’re the youth minister,” was one member’s response. Visiting the hospital earned the youth minister respect and admiration, and it’s one of the reasons he has been at the church for ten years.
When I was 22, I inherited the ladies’ Bible class. Conventional thinking would say, “No unmarried kid fresh out of college can teach a class of 50-year-old women successfully.” Yet it was the best thing that could have happened to me. The class taught me humility, responsibility, and tact, and at the same time provided me with my biggest supporters at church.
I’ve been fortunate at my congregation not to have been pigeonholed. If you are a youth minister, beg to teach an adult class. If you work with single adults, offer to do some hospital calling. If you are the Christian education minister, ask to do some weddings. Working in a few winning areas will increase your influence and make ministry more interesting.
Find life outside of ministry
During nine years at Raleigh, I have completed my M.Div., worked on a Ph.D., and published articles. On those days when I felt unappreciated and angry that the church hasn’t gushed over my obvious and tremendous talent, at least I was able to point to a dust-covered diploma on the wall. And the occasional byline helps feed the troubled and immature soul.
Extracurricular activities keep me fresh. Granted, you can do too much and wrongfully neglect your work, as I have done at times, but the positives outweigh the negatives. Serving on the PTA, getting a degree in counseling, writing a mystery novel, working as a volunteer chaplain, running a marathon, taking up woodworking, running for councilman, going on a mission trip-the list is endless. Even if your ego is happily satisfied as an associate, working and playing in noncongregational settings will make you at least a more rounded minister.
Recently, one of our high school students was involved in a serious automobile accident. After ten days in intensive care and ten hours of surgery, she seems to be making a full recovery.
The first day I visited her in the intensive care unit, she couldn’t speak due to the respirator and numerous other tubes surrounding her. Frankly, she looked pitiful. After I prayed for her, I prepared to leave, but she wouldn’t let go of my hand. It was the closest I’ve come to weeping in a hospital room. Over the next several days I visited her, and even though she couldn’t talk, she always moved her hand, indicating she wanted me to hold it. As I left each day, I told her I loved her, something I don’t normally do.
After she was discharged, we spoke on the phone one day. She said, “You came every day to the hospital. I knew you were there, even when I couldn’t talk. You made me feel better.” Known for her wit, she couldn’t resist adding, “You’re a good little youth minister.”
So now I have a new response to the question, “Are you the preacher at your church?” I can say, “No, but I am a good little youth minister.”
But it’s still hard not to add, “with preaching and administrative responsibilities.”
-Chris Smith
Church of Christ, Raleigh
Memphis, Tennessee
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