It’s time someone speak up for the “hired hand”
October is Pastor Appreciation Month.
Your pastor needs you to notice.
Your pastor needs you to celebrate.
Your pastor needs you to make it a big deal.
Your pastor needs to know that you … well, that you care.
There, I’ve said it.
Finally.
For more than a decade I’ve wanted to shout this to any church-goer who would listen. I’ve wanted to grab the parishioners of my pastor friends by the collar and shout, “Don’t let October pass by without doing something, anything at all, for your Pastor!”
But I couldn’t.
My mouth was tied.
As a pastor, it would look like I wanted something for myself.
It might look like I was the one in need of affirmation.
I can now admit that I did.
I needed to hear that I was appreciated.
I needed to know that my (and my family’s) sacrifices were noticed.
I needed to hear that I was making a difference.
I needed to believe that I hadn’t chosen an ungrateful church in which to pastor.
Sure, I would have been uncomfortable during every single public or private display of appreciation and affection.
Sure, I would have turned beet-red and have acted insanely awkward.
Sure, I would have wanted it to be over and get back to preaching, shepherding, and gently leading.
Sure, I would have not known how to say thanks or express my own gratefulness.
But you know what’s worse than those feelings?
There is something far worse for a pastor than being the center of uncomfortable affection at some point in October…
It is a far worse feeling to spend every Sunday in October wondering if anyone is going to notice or say anything and then realizing after that final Sunday comes and goes without fanfare or thanks that they really don’t appreciate you… that no one thought to take one day out of 365 to express thanks as a congregation.
“But wait, Kevin!,” you say. “That’s not fair.”
“Just because we don’t celebrate a Hallmark Holiday doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate or love our Pastor.”
… but does it?
I am going to challenge that notion because I think that’s exactly what it means.
Our actions, or lack thereof, betray what lies in the depths of our hearts.
I’d be willing to wager that a congregation that fails to celebrate or recognize their shepherd during Pastor Appreciation Month also fails to do so the other eleven months of the year. I’d be willing to wager that birthdays go by largely unnoticed, that the pastor’s family fends for themselves, and that pay raises and benefit increases are rare (and likely initiated by the pastors themselves when they do occur).
Conversely, I’d be willing to wager that a church that regularly celebrates its minister in October is also johnny-on-the-spot with regular raises, time away, retirement, family gifts, and other blessings and expressions of gratitude.
In fact, as a coach and consultant, I am beginning to encourage pastors to dig into a prospective church’s Pastor Appreciation Month practices before taking the job, as it’s a bellwether of bigger winds within the church culture.
If a change hasn’t been thankful for its previous pastors, they soon won’t be for you either.
“Okay, so how do you know?”
I know, because I have sadly served in church contexts that regularly allowed October to come and go without a hint of gratefulness.
As if to prove my point, in those churches it wasn’t just October ungratefulness, though, it was a year-round systemic lack of gratitude for the pastor’s blood, sweat, tears, and sacrifice… but it really sunk in that my service was little more than a “hired hand” when each October came and went.
Sadly, it seemed to hurt my spouse and family more. They often wanted to express their dismay but couldn’t. “It wouldn’t be appropriate to complain, right?” Some years she even contemplated organizing it herself… but what does that say?!
Sadly, it’s not just me.
This story plays itself out each year in so many of my pastor friend’s churches and homes that is more surprising when a church does celebrate their minister than when they don’t. I see these pastors’ private dismay at the ongoing lack of gratitude and honor that culminates each year with a tellingly quiet series of Sundays in October.
Of course, I recognize that the collective lack of appreciation from a church does not mean every member of a church is ungrateful. No, not at all. I am thankful to say that nearly every year one or more people privately expressed their thanks in one meaningful way or another.
These individuals have no idea how much their personal gratitude went to assuage the sadness of an otherwise startlingly quiet October.
It was those dear saints who kept me showing up.
They helped me to realize that though I may be ministering to a largely distracted or even potentially ungrateful group of people, I was making a difference… for someone.
So what now?
I’m glad that you asked.
As something of a “free agent” pastor these days—unhitched to a traditional church—I have a lot more latitude to be transparent.
So transparently, your pastor needs you to organize something for October’s Pastor Appreciation Month.
Don’t ask their permission. They won’t give it if you ask, but they will want you to do. Just do it.
Don’t wait on someone else to organize it. They won’t. It needs to be you.
Include words and gifts. Please make sure both the words and gifts are meaningful and befitting the minister. The only thing worse than doing nothing is doing something that makes it more about you or about “the wonderfulness of the church” than about the pastor. Save the grandiose platitudes for a funeral or church anniversary.
DO NOT wait until the last Sunday of October. Trust me.
Find a way to thank the spouse and family. This is especially important. They need to know that their sacrifice is seen as well. A pastor only serves with the blessings and support of his family. It might even be better to dote on the family more than the minister.1
Repost this and encourage your friends who attend other churches to do likewise.
Your pastor has been through a lot.
Eighteen months of leading through COVID, racial conflict, and political wars have left them absolutely exhausted. They are tired, and they are questioning their call and the church in which they are serving out that call.
They are questioning whether they want to stick with you.
A multitude of ministers are on the bubble about leaving you for greener pastures.
Many congregations hope their pastor will leave. But I can tell you that the person who comes is rarely (I want to say, never) as good as the one you ran off.
If you don’t want to celebrate your pastor, then I doubt that the problem is the pastor.
The problem is almost always the congregations who use, abuse, and then eschew the person God sent them.
I can affirm that when a minister is treated in such a way, God doesn’t send a second top-shelf shepherd to suffer the same.
Turn the tide.
Honor your shepherd.
To my incredible Christ’s Table community. No need for an October surprise. You have thanked me almost daily, for nine months, in a way I have never experienced before. My tank is so full! Seriously. I can only write this because it’s not my story anymore.
So the big hug I gave you last week that I felt made you uncomfortable was my way of saying Thank You for all you do for me and my family. We love you and your family to the moon and back every month.
I actually really appreciated that hug and really felt that was what you were saying. Thank you!
Wow. Just….wow. I’m speechless, and that’s good. It means your words moved me. Touched me. Made me sad. Made me ashamed. Made me proud to call you my Pastor, however absent I may be (am) these days. True to my nature, truthfully, I am too often all or nothing. Black or white. I procrastinate. I let excitement and great intentions, motivation and righteous anger (as you once called it), wane. I was invited a couple of years ago by a friend and churchgoer of Jupiter First. I was broken and defeated at the time, and I needed the calling to go. I was changed inside that building that day. I was moved to tears during the service, feeling the Spirit minister to me, knowing I was in THE right place for healing. I vividly recall it was your recitation of the call to communion. It’s late, I haven’t had much sleep with a sick teenager, so I can’t recall all the words – and honestly it’s been a good while now since I attended a service online or in person. But it was you speaking those words…the truth and sincerity, the love and caring. The come, even if it’s been a long time or never before…COME. It made me cry with joy! So accepting of ME, just as I was. Pitiful and disloyal, turning only to God in times of pain and suffering. How convenient for me. Staring up at that enormous cross, the power and love I felt was overwhelming, and as many have said before me, I felt like I was HOME. FINALLY. I LOVED this church more than any other ever before, mostly because of YOU. You are special. You are not the any other. The real deal. Real, relatable, affable, funny, self deprecating. But mostly I could just feel that you were not a fraud, and I was safe here. I approached you once after your sermon on moving your chair, to sheepishly say you had inspired me to move mine. And you had. And once again over time I’ve let life, and difficulty, and pain dampen my enthusiasm and rededication. I never stepped foot in there again, this place I loved so much, when I learned for whatever reason you were gone. I was so angry. I’d finally found a true church home, and it was snatched away by whatever (insert highly uncomplimentary adjectives) forces were at work to drive you away. That was that. I realized it wasn’t about the place, the church, or even so much the comforting ritual that is going every Sunday so dutifully. It was a Pastor who was different. I could hear it in the spoken and unspoken. It was your beautiful family, who so clearly adore and support you to the fullest, no matter where the tide takes you. I guess I’m my usual overly wordy way I’m trying to say THANK YOU. You have made a difference in my life. In many, many lives. I’m sorry we take you for granted. We do. You have been through so much, especially here recently with the loss of so many you care about to the devil that is Covid. You are not invincible. You need love and encouragement, and a reminder that you are making such a difference for so many people. We are beyond lucky to call you our Pastor. So lucky. THANK YOU❤️
Jeannie Smith
Wow, these words are amazing. Such an overwhelmingly kind gift to me! I wasn’t aware of large portions of that story. Just wow. Also, I want you to stop feeling guilt for not doing/being enough… that is just in your own mind. 🙂 You are enough… especially in God’s eyes.