“Can I ask what you do from one week to the next?” asked Janet, an involved member of our congregation who had just joined the church’s personnel committee. Her comment wasn’t a “ministers only work one hour a week” jab. She honestly didn’t know what I did with my time.
Then Steve, a nonchurched friend, asked me as we were eating lunch one day, “How’s your week going? What have you been doing?”
“Well, I’ve . . .” I then realized that, even though it felt like I’d been busy for weeks, I wasn’t really sure what I’d accomplished. I remembered the Laver funeral, the late-night call to the hospital, the session with Susan and Tom, that sermon that seemed to elude me for so long. But is that all I’d done during all those hours?
And then the clincher.
“I just read this article on budgeting,” our treasurer enthused. “It says that the largest single item in our budget is your salary. If we’re going to know how much each area of our ministry is costing us, we need to know how much time you’re spending on different things. Can you give me some figures next week?”
These real-life conversations, within weeks of each other, stirred my thoughts about how I invest my time. Like most pastors (especially in single-pastor churches), my weeks are a whirlwind of events. No one was complaining, but I had a nagging sense that some important tasks were eluding me.
So I decided to check my priorities, track my time, and share that information with those who were genuinely interested.
Priorities by process
For me, priority setting begins by creating a list of all the tasks I might tackle in a month. I make my tasks as specific as possible. I don’t just write the word worship, for example; it’s too vague. So I break down my time in worship into its component parts: choosing hymns, writing prayers, checking the bulletin, meeting with the worship committee, preparing lay participants, preparing sermons, and actually leading worship.
When writing my list, I don’t forget to include my denominational responsibilities or community functions (on-call chaplaincy at the local hospital, for example). I also have to decide where the dividing line is between my job as pastor and my own personal ministry within the church. I attend our men’s fellowship breakfast, for example, if it doesn’t conflict with my schedule. My own volunteerism as a member of the church isn’t a part of my calling as pastor.
After I’ve compiled my list (I don’t attach any time frame or put them in any particular order at this point), I then recruit a group of lay leaders who embody our church’s sense of ministry, setting up a time to discuss my priorities.
In the meeting I hand them a copy of my list and ask each one to choose the top ten items in order of priority. Each item can have only one number. Three items cannot be a first priority.
After each person has prioritized my list, I collate the results and share it with the group. Then I ask the question: “Is this really the emphasis you wish me to express in our ministry? Are these really the priorities that drive our church?”
Often conflict erupts at this point. Evangelism might be more of a priority for some than others. But if that winds up eighth in a list of ten priorities, reaching newcomers has to take a back seat. Though I may feel frustrated at this juncture, I press the leaders to process how they wish to resolve the tension between what they say is important for the pastor and the priorities they set.
The solution may be getting some assistance in another area if they want me to focus on a lower-numbered priority. Maybe it involves setting up a visitation team so I’m free for individual evangelization. Maybe it means getting some office help if they want me to put more time into sermon preparation.
I also contribute to the discussion at this point. Often something high on their list of priorities is not my specialty or within my range of giftedness. If I don’t feel comfortable with their priorities, I have two options. The first is to try shifting the priority right now in the meeting. In doing so I must tactfully articulate my perspective on the church’s priorities, negotiating reasonably a different emphasis than what my leaders believe.
The second option is to accept their priorities and ask to renegotiate them in six months or a year. I may discover their priorities were well-grounded. If not, the extra time gives me additional time to discover other creative responses to the needs they’ve identified.
Invariably, another question I’ll ask during this discussion is how many hours a week they expect me to work. I usually preface it with an assurance that this will exclude emergencies; I won’t punch out just because my time is up. In the ensuing discussion, I communicate my expectations for days off and office hours. There are 168 hours in the week-the most dedicated of us can’t change that.
The tool for the trade
Crucial to implementing my priorities is a date book. After trying the myriad styles on the market, I’ve settled on one that includes a full page for each day of the week. (Many calendars have only half spaces for Saturdays and Sundays, which are often our busiest days.) I want enough space so that I can write everything into my day without resorting to hieroglyphics.
As I glance over my priorities, I ask myself honestly, “How long will each task take?” Often I have to track my own work for a couple of weeks to answer that question realistically. But once I know the amount, I block off that time.
Worship and preaching, for example, are high priorities in my congregation. I like to do my sermon work in a whole day, composing and writing this week’s sermon in the morning and doing the exegesis and preparation for a subsequent week in the afternoon. I also like to have a couple of hours later in the week to review my sermon. I put this day and the review hours into my calendar. I then go ahead and write in the hours for every week I’m preaching over the next six months.
I also make sure I’ve included time for planning and time for preparation of outside assignments. If I take on an assignment-guest lecturing or a special piece of writing not in my normal routine-I work back from the due date and write in my preparation time. I then have no excuse for scrambling on Saturday night to come up with a sermon.
I also schedule “flex time.” No week has ever gone entirely as planned! Built-in flex time allows space for things to go wrong earlier in the week without throwing you into a panic on Friday. I’ve never known emergencies or tragedies that honored my schedule. If it’s not needed, I treat the flex time as a gift of grace-for reading, praying, or relaxing.
Logging my emphasis
My record keeping is quite simple. I use a loose-leaf date book into which a record-keeping sheet can easily be inserted. My time is divided into seven major categories, and most of these have subcategories. I list the following categories in a column on the left side of the sheet.
Pastoral care
Worship
Worship planning.
Rehearsals, weddings, and funerals.
Sermon preparation.
Christian education
Administration
Outreach
Study and continuing education
Other
Denominational obligations.
Community activities.
In my date book, I record how many hours each day are spent for each category. My time doesn’t neatly break down in this fashion, of course. I tend to round out my time, trying not always to round up! I’m not being paid by the hour, so strict accuracy isn’t crucial. But recording as I go is better than trying to remember it at the end of the week. Stopping for red lights usually provides all the time I need.
Gathering the story
At the end of a month, I simply add all the times in a specific category together and total the number of hours. A simple mathematical step with a calculator turns each category into a percentage of my total time.
Why percentages? I find that percentages reveal more quickly than raw numbers the way in which I use my time. They become even more helpful if I keep an average over a period of months. The long-term average is more important than the individual months.
In December, for example, all the Advent and Christmas specials, services, and sermons raise that portion of my time above the yearly average. By the same token, my administrative average falls off. No one wants to attend meetings the week before Christmas. Over the twelve months, however, we can spot whether or not the average is fitting in with our plans and priorities.
Most months these reports pass without question or comment, but I’ve been presenting it faithfully. People know they can ask questions whenever they wish. We don’t start looking for data only when there’s a perceived problem.
The payoff
What are the advantages of time tracking?
A feeling of control. One of the favorite topics of conversation at clergy gatherings is how busy we all are. I’ve discovered that, since keeping records, I know how busy I am. That feeling of control is terribly important.
Now I am also doing more of what I want to do in ministry. I know that everything’s getting done (at least as much as it’s going to) so I can relax and enjoy ministry more.
Support from lay leaders. Many lay people, I’ve discovered, are quite interested in learning what their pastor does from one week to the next. I’ve also found that, armed with this information, lay leaders are quite willing to protect me from the verbal assaults of those who would claim that we’re not doing enough in some area.
They can (and do) say: “The board named these priorities, and this is how Ross is meeting them. You may feel he isn’t visiting, but I know for a fact that, so far this year, he’s made thirty-five home visits. I’m sure if you contacted him he’d be glad to visit you.”
Builds trust. Since most people have to report to someone in authority about their productivity and resource use, I find this gives an opportunity for respect and trust to grow.
After a couple of years of doing this, the board actually requested that I cut back on the information.
“It was helpful in the beginning,” one member said, “but now we know you and trust you. We just want to know how our priorities are being followed.” The others agreed.
Still I report regularly to them, choosing to err on the side of giving too much information. I want to maintain that climate of trust and respect.
Most importantly, recording and reporting time use gives both pastor and congregation a sense of faithfully choosing their own course and responding as they see fit to God’s call and challenge.
– Ross Bartlett
St. Andrews by-the-lake United Church
Kingston, Ontario
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