At Home with the Clergy: The Protestant Parsonage Today

The Protestant parsonage (or manse), taken by and large, has come to occupy a rather special niche in the history of the Western world. Not everyone agrees, of course, that this niche is worth filling, nor that it is well filled by Protestant clergymen and their families. Just recently the dean of one of the larger theological schools in the eastern United States made a strong plea for a celibate clergy in the Protestant Church. He based his argument on the assumption that a good pastor cannot be a good family man, and that a good family man cannot be all that he should be as a pastor. An Anglican divine published a similar allegation several years ago, deploring, as I recall, the financial burden imposed on the churches by a married clergy. The Roman Catholics, as is well known, rejoice in the fact that they do not need parsonage families to keep their clergy ranks filled. To others, the “parsonage” or the “manse,” or however it be designated, frequently connotes genteel poverty, smugness, legalism, naiveté, and not a few other unpleasant things. In short, the parsonage is not and never has been everyone’s cup of tea, so to speak.

PRODUCTS OF THE PARSONAGE

In spite of its critics, however, the virtues of the parsonage as one fount of human life have not gone uncelebrated. Particular attention has been called through the years to the human products of the parsonage, the sons and daughters of the clergy. Many of these individuals have demonstrated in their lives that there is something peculiarly beneficent about maturing in the atmosphere of such a home. It is a well-known fact that Protestant clergymen have for many years sired more sons for Who’s Who than have the representatives of any other profession. Two of our presidents were parsonage products. Perhaps one could argue that the children of the parsonage, above all, justify Martin Luther’s drastic step.

Parsonage life at its finest, by providing a domestic milieu charged with profound religious convictions, high moral standards, a compassionate and broad-minded Weltanschauung, together with a genuine interest in things cultural and intellectual, often produces men and women of high calibre, well suited to the business of living a full, useful Christian life. Many, of course, can testify from experience that “preachers’ kids” aren’t always world-beaters. But at the same time, enough “P.K.’s” have grown up to wrestle effectively and creatively with the problems and possibilities of life, to evoke the suspicion that there is something advantageous about growing up in the environment afforded by a parsonage.

A TURN FOR THE BETTER

How about the parsonage today? Is it continuing to uphold the laurels won in past generations? How does the typical parsonage of the mid-twentieth century compare with those of the past? A number of gains can be listed. For one thing (and it is a big thing), there is a lot more “fresh air” in the modern parsonage. The rigid, Victorian atmosphere has been relaxed considerably, and all to the good. Parsonage children are, as a result, much less confined and no longer expected to set the standards for the children of the community. Pastors’ children today lead much more normal lives than was once considered possible, or even desirable, which is as it should be. Much the same can be said for the “mistress of the manse”; no longer is she required to be the meek, submissive servant of every parish whim, an unpaid clerical assistant. Her role in the modern parsonage is less restricted, and as a result her potential as a “helpmeet” is far greater than before.

AIR OF POVERTY VANISHING

Another major stride has been made possible by the gradual increase of clerical salaries. The air of genteel poverty which clung miasma-like to the parsonage up to a decade or two ago (and far back into our history) exerted a debilitating effect upon both parents and children. Those portions of the stipend which used to come in natura usually did not do much to raise the morale of the manse. No doubt there were those who drew odious comparisons between such donations and the dole. But such practices have now been changed for the most part, and in response we breathe a fervent Te Deum. Clergymen are still the poorest paid of all educated classes in our society, but significant improvements have been made, and their positive effect upon the parsonage and its inhabitants has been inestimable. A modicum of professional self-respect and economic security is certainly not misplaced even in the parsonage.

SOME CONCERNS THAT REMAIN

These gains, and perhaps others, can be placed on the record. At the same time it must be recognized that the entire story cannot be written on the positive side of the ledger. I for one admit I am somewhat concerned that the modern parsonage is confronted by rather serious problems which, unless faced and overcome (at least in part), could have a deleterious effect upon it and those residing within.

It is obvious, for example, that parsonage life is not nearly as serene as it commonly was in former years. The typical modern pastor is caught up in a web of busy work virtually unknown to previous generations of clerics. Much of it (extensive calling, for example) is commendable. But as Professor Joseph Sittler pointed out in his Lyman Beecher lectures, a great deal is peripheral and actually beside the point. Our frenetic push for statistical success is bound to leave its mark on parsonage life. The uniqueness of life in the parsonage has been due in measure to the fact that the father was able to be at home (in his study!) and with his family more than men serving other callings. Today the advantage is not as marked as it once was, and the quality of parsonage life in many instances will suffer as a result.

WORLDLINESS IN THE PARSONAGE

Futhermore, there is an increasing air of worldliness in the modern parsonage. Of all homes it ought to be “in the world but not of the world.” Of course our parsonages must not be thought of as coeducational cloisters; the inhabitants are first of all people, and only secondarily pastors, pastors’ wives and children. Even so, the danger is very real that one’s living room may be dominated by an undiscriminating television set, and that the coffee table may be littered with our gaudy, materialistically-oriented picture magazines. What might such intrusions do to the quality of parsonage life? Parsonage families must certainly understand the world, and they must of necessity be deeply involved in the world’s problems; but at the same time there are worldly ideas and standards (of success, for example) which ought to be resolutely rebuked. Our parsonages will not continue to make their superior contribution to life as a whole unless the clammy hand of “the world” is restrained.

The problem does not simply involve a potentially-subversive electronic gadget or the unctuous presence of “good life” magazines. They are but symptomatic of an underlying weakness of greater depth. In former days the parsonage was often different for the wrong reasons; today it should be different for the right reasons. But if the ethos of the parsonage is indistinguishable from that of the average home on the block, then there is something wrong. I do not say that the parsonage is above such a comparison with “the average home”; but if they are similar, then it should be for the reason that “the average home” has been elevated to the level of parsonage living at its best, and not because the quality of the parsonage has deteriorated to identification with domestic life on a lower level. Can we deny that parsonage life has been negatively influenced by the subtle intrusion of secular standards? Instead of setting the standards ourselves, we have too often permitted ourselves to respond to unworthy standards.

CHALLENGE TO INTELLECT DIMINISHED

Is the typical parsonage of the present day not guilty of diminishing the intellectual challenge to which clergymen’s children were once exposed? Many pastors confess today that they have little time and apparently little inclination for the perpetuation of studies begun in college and seminary. Some parsonages, to be sure, continue to provide rooms called “studies,” but it is fairly easy to perceive that the office frequently takes precedence over the study in making claims upon the pastor’s time.

Perhaps the articulation of such concerns will brand me as a clerical Don Quixote; the dangers may be more apparent than real. But as a clergyman, I am involved in them, and therefore concerned. I have glimpsed the great possibilities for good implicit in the particular domestic milieu, and I want to believe that the potential will not be dissipated. Furthermore, I believe that if the parsonage can continue to be what it often has been, a home of noble ideals and genuine human joys, a bulwark of spiritual and intellectual strength, purposeful and devoted to the best for both God and man, then we can anticipate even greater contributions from such a source. Certainly it is true that the continued well-being of the Church and the nation is related to the life of the Protestant parsonage and the products thereof.

Jacob J. Vellenga served on the National Board of Administration of the United Presbyterian Church from 1948–54. Since 1958 he has served the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. as Associate Executive. He holds the A.B. degree from Monmouth College, the B.D. from Pittsburgh-Xenia Seminary, Th.D. from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and D.D. from Monmouth College, Illinois.

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