‘The Lord God has given me…… skill to console the weary with a word in the morning’. These are words from Isaiah that were read last Sunday in church. They started me off thinking about what the word ‘weary’ might mean in the context. I realised very quickly that the prophet was not talking about people who had slept badly or worked too hard. He seems to be speaking about people who were demoralised or psychologically defeated. They needed to hear something that would boost their morale. The word morale is most typically used to describe the attitude which is needed in time of war. It is important equally both for fighting troops and the civilians who have remained at home. When there is a collapse in morale, that is often the prelude to defeat. A government will do everything it can to promote this positive state of mind which we call morale, particularly when a nation is going through the crisis of war.
Morale is one of those words which involves a number of facets. For soldiers to feel able to engage in the stressful activity of fighting effectively, their external circumstances must first be OK. They cannot fight if they do not eat properly or do not have dry conditions in which to sleep. Soldiers need also the loving support of family far away. Emails, telephone communication and letters from home are all almost as essential as adequate food. A further vital part of maintaining good morale are the relationships with their fellow soldiers. It is important to have that strong sense of solidarity with others which is so important for mental well-being. The same thing is needed in their relationship with their officers. They need to be able to trust those over them and have confidence in their leadership decisions. Without the companionship and all the other supports I have mentioned, the ordinary soldier would all too easily collapse mentally and psychologically in a situation of stress brought on by battle.
I once asked an Archdeacon about the morale of the clergy he knew. I asked the question how many of the clergy in his area could be said to have good morale. He said about 50%. I went on to ask whether that meant that the other 50% were in low morale. He replied simply yes, but went into no further detail. It is this issue of the morale of Church of England clergy today that I am concerned about. I know that many bishops would claim that all or most of their clergy are in good spirits – their mental health is functioning well, and they are doing an excellent job. My memory of serving as a parish priest for 40 years is that, with one honourable exception, I never felt able to share anything with a bishop which touched on areas of personal vulnerability. In other words, I never wanted to open up to a bishop in a way that might have allowed a pastoral relationship to evolve. The reason for this was not fear or excessive deference. It was simply that I perceived that a bishop, whatever his pastoral gifts, is first and foremost the guardian of the power of patronage in the church. That power, whether a bishop likes it or not, will always create formality and a certain distance in many relationships with their clergy. I cannot be the only member of the clergy who felt it important to keep my head down when around bishops, those who could potentially make or break my professional future. I raise the question whether any bishop in the Church can really be said to know his/her clergy at depth.
In the year 2018 there are many reasons for clergy to feel under constant stress. This can be because the expectations on clergy have increased and the number of churches they have to look after grow ever more numerous. These external sources of stress have to be added to any internal pressures of domestic or psychological strain. When levels of stress go beyond a certain point, they quickly affect morale badly. Given the fact that few clergy admit stress or ‘weariness’, it will never be easy to quantify the problem across the country. There is a lot at stake to ensure that any problems are hidden as long as possible. A clergyman is not only singularly unqualified for other professions, particularly after middle age, he also has his home and the well-being of family to think about. Breakdown or collapse in a clergy person create a situation that is dire. For every member of the clergy who leaves because of some kind of breakdown, there must be others who struggle on with low morale and in a permanent state of being close to the edge of a cliff.
The purpose of writing this blog is simply to suggest that from anecdotal evidence there is a growing crisis of morale among the Church of England clergy. I know that there will be many who will protest this suggestion to be false. Complete evidence for such a suggestion is clearly lacking. The opposite affirmation is also unsupported by available evidence. We have to base our assessment on anecdote and indirect evidence. Even if my surmise is a complete misreading of the available evidence, I believe that it is still right to bring up this issue of morale in the church. As with the issue of past abuses, failure to discuss a topic does not make it go away. We need a system that will allow the airing of this problem without putting the lives and futures of clergy under threat. Clergy, it can be admitted, enjoy a high level of job security. But the price they have to pay for that privilege is, I believe, very high.
Over the next 20 years, I believe that we are going to face several crises within the parish system. The constant adding of extra churches to each benefice is going to cause increasing stress on the smaller numbers of full-time clergy. While there may be more non-stipendiary clergy coming on stream, these will be deployed to prop up what is already an unwieldy system close to collapse. Another Archdeacon I used to know, who worked in a rural diocese, was proud of the fact that he had succeeded in closing over a dozen churches. He had thus relieved the strain on several country benefices. Since he left the area, no further churches had been closed. What he had started was, he felt, a real contribution to the possibility of the very survival of the church in the countryside.
It is the contention of this post that there are many weary clergy in the biblical sense. Much of this weariness is hidden. I have suggested that once again poorly understood power dynamics may lie at the heart of this crisis. Just as the IICSA has shown us how negligent episcopal oversight can hide an epidemic of child sexual abuse for decades, so we see how detachment from the hierarchy can hide from view the real stresses of the parochial system. The revolution that needs to take place has not only to reform the structures but to change some of the unhappy dynamics of communication that exist within the institution itself. Once again, this blog is pleading for a better understanding of the way that power works within the church.
I imagine that the stresses are huge for priests in inner city churches and country churches where there are several churches and parishes involved.
In any walk of life admitting weakness to the hierarchy wouldn’t bring much support. Any support including prayers could come from the parishioners.
Oh yes. In my experience, the unstressed ones are those who do less. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes not.
My own, limited experience, is that most of my clergy friends (in their 50’s for the most part) are consciously simply treading water until they can retire. Several have said that they would go early, if only they could afford to do so, and stay on simply because they face retirement in much reduced circumstances. Some plan to hang on till their 70’s, head down and not attracting attention, doing what they always do, in the hope that by then the retirement age will have been raised even further than it’s current 72 because of their lack of resources. Others have also said that they intend to have very little to do with the Church of England once they do retire. I have no doubt that many, if not all, do excellent work and lead worship, preach and care for their parishes in exemplary ways. But in their hearts they are disconnected from the institution and ‘weary’ of it. Of course anedote is not evidence, and many of us I am sure are content on a day to day basis, and happiness is not what we are promised in the life of faith. It is possible to be content with one’s life, even if it is wearisome at times and mostly unrewarding. An awareness of the privileges of ministry and job security is also a helpful corrective for too much self pity. But it cannot be right that so many simply plod on, watching what is happening around them in the wider Church with bemused indifference, and lack of interest. Sadly, I think Bishops are mostly unaware of what their clergy really think, and the new generation of happy smiley ‘open’ evangelicals with little experience of ministry outside of large, suburban or university parishes, have little concept of what daily life might be like for their clergy, and possibly even less ability to see it when it’s in front of them.
On reflection after finishing the piece, I realise that the most serious point, which Andrew has drawn out, is that bishops do not know what is really going on among their clergy. That is an incredibly sad state of affairs. The shepherd, for whatever reason, does not connect with the unhappy sheep. I do not blame the shepherd but I believe that trying to exercise the powers of chief executive, patronage power and pastoral concern all at the same time can never work.
Also this cascades down affecting the morale of the laity – the next tier of unhappy sheep… How do we get off this downward spiral?
From my recent experience, the wellbeing of individual clergy is far down the list of bishops’ priorities. I don’t think I blame them as such, the system is broken. But the gap between the lofty language of the ordinal and the lived reality of bishops – and priests, and deacons – creates massive cognitive dissonance. I have lost my mental and physical health trying to minister (and in effect do everything) in 6 parishes. At no time during my breakdown and resignation from ministry did I feel that the bishop behaved as my ‘pastor’ – ‘Distant (and hurtful) chief executive’ at best. I’m less bitter about this than I was: it’s just an illustration of the impossibility of fulfilling the ministry of a bishop, as set out in the ordinal, in the 21st century CofE. Nothing will be done, of course. We’ll keep living in this sad, unreal, parallel world which is so far removed from the kingdom of God that we should be weeping. As it is, all of us, including the tiny minority of God’s people who happen to be ordained Anglican ministers, will continue to suffer. Whatever I’ve experienced, it’s nothing like the ‘life in all its fullness’ that I still believe Jesus came to bring.
I hope your life goes on to be very happy and fulfilling.
Phil I wish I had some positive things to say to someone in your situation. The real killer is if you find that you can no longer cope at a time when it is difficult to get alternative work. The few clergy I know who have ‘jumped ship’ have in fact found quite good jobs but there must be others who do not. I hope that you have got decent employment. We do pick up a number of skills along the way but whether anyone appreciates these in the world of work is another matter! The system is not going to be geared to helping clergy in this situation, sadly.
Thanks Stephen. In terms of financial survival, we’re actually ok, and we don’t have children to care for. But as to having a purpose, vocation, etc… the jury’s still very much out. But thank you for caring and working in this area. It’s so important.
Phil, I’m sorry to hear that. In my experience it depends very much on the bishop and the diocese. When having a tough time in one parish (due to high crime levels and being a target), Bp. Nigel Stock (then of Stockport) and Archdeacon Richard Gilling were very supportive and helpful. I often think of them with gratitude.
In another parish in a different diocese, however, the bishop and archdeacon let me down very badly. Like you, my mental and physical health gave way and I had to take early retirement. I know, or know of, so many clergy who have been treated badly by the Church and have left the ministry early. It’s not much use recruiting for new clergy when so many leave through avoidable ill treatment.
I haven’t inherited money and don’t have a partner or family living in the UK. I rent a house from the Pensions Board on the ‘Charm’ scheme, which has worked well for me since I moved in. However, the process of applying for and getting the house was slow, traumatic and needlessly difficult, and undoubtedly contributed to my ill health. They changed the scheme only a few months after I got my home, so the options would be even more limited for someone going through the same process now.
I know lay people have a difficult time too – I worked in publishing and then in bookselling before being ordained, and lived way below the poverty line. However, clergy have no employment rights which does make us vulnerable. Additionally, throughout ministry I have always wound up putting my own money into the church house I was living in. Resettlement grants never cover all the expenses of carpets, curtains, etc. And two of my vicarages were without even basic fittings like toilet roll holders and towel rails. I had to buy all those things and then pay to have them installed.
If it weren’t for my PIP allowance (I’m now disabled) I don’t know how I would have managed. I thank God that I’ve always got by – but I’m aware this will sound hollow to others who may be worse off than me.
It’s always harder when you’re on your own. Leaving out the question of moral support, heating costs the same no matter how many you are. There’s no one to share the washing up, you do all the cooking and cleaning, and shopping. Actually, no one should have to live below the poverty line.
No, they shouldn’t. There were hardships in my day – but so many people have it tough now. It’s an unjust society.
Phil – thank you for this – you have put in to words exactly how I am feeling.
Thank you Andrew for your perceptive comment. Stephen, I think that ‘the shepherd … does not connect with the unhappy sheep’: actually I think the shepherd does not connect with their sheep, happy or unhappy, to a very large extent. You are spot on that wearing the 3 hats you mention can never work. The initiative started by Simon Butler re clergy wellbeing will almost certainly demonstrate this, but in my view this initiative is too limited in its scope. It should, at the very least include clergy spouses and their wellbeing, but I would also like it to incorporate the wellbeing of the lay people in the(ir) churches. These 3 groups of people are inextricably intertwined and interconnected and the lack of wellbeing of one of them is likely to have catastrophic effects on the other two.
Anne. My comment on your comment just disappeared. I wanted to say that I agreed with you about adding clergy wives to the mix and to re-emphasise how relationship with bishops are incredibly important. I suggest in my latest post that ‘institutional narcissism’ means that some bishops are going to find a greater gap being made with their clergy because of some distancing that happens because of their preferment. This is in addition to the confused role problem. It is easier to see some of these things now that I am retired. Distance maybe gives one greater clarity.
What is the state of morale among Bishops in the Church of England ? Has anyone asked? Can they minister the pastoral support for clergy that they may be in need of themselves?
The morale of bishops and laity is of course an important question. As to the first, any attempts to gauge what it might be would have to belong to the realm of speculation. I suspect by inference that it is not high. If my guess is right then it means that within ten years, senior clergy are going to be unwilling to take on very senior jobs on the grounds that for all the kudos, these jobs are simply not worth the hassle.
I did touch on the problem of lay morale in my last but one post. Lay people have one glorious advantage over the clergy. They can up sticks far easier than those who look after them. They do not lose livelihood and home all at once when things go wrong. That is why this post is looking at clergy alone. Potentially their situation is cataclysmic when things go wrong. I think my posts have indicated that I am still on the side of the laity much of the time. But some times the clergy do need to be felt sorry for.
I feel sorry for them too quite a lot of the time. But the bigger picture seems to be low morale across the whole church, all of us feeding off each other. Anyone under about 80 (if not older) has spent their entire life in a declining church. Even without all the added stresses it must be hard to avoid low morale. (Interestingly when I thought about it I did not see myself as having low morale. But then what I currently do is almost entirely outside church structures and I’m also fairly clear about what I’m called to do and what I’m not called to do.)
A number of years ago I heard about a study done on clergy in Australia who had left the ministry to do something else. Of the varieties of work gone into the most common denominator was the word ‘construction’ and I wondered whether it said something about the feelings of those leavers vis-a-vis their previous role. Australia is another country of course but it would be interesting to know what driving forces lie behind the call or vocation to ministry in our situation today. Certainly the Church is not replete with places to engage in building in whatever way we see that.
Thanks Stephen – thoughtful post. My seven months in hospital were made bearable by taking 1 Thess 5:18 seriously. I used to make myself pray, thankyou God for putting me through all this, because if this is the path you have chosen for me, I want to go that way. To begin with, it was not easy to adopt that attitude, but I’m glad I did because, as a result I never felt discouraged. Isa 40:31 also comes to mind.
Wonderful to read your posts again, David. I hope your recovery continues apace.
Thanks!
Leslie I think I have read the book from Australia you mention. The problem for weary clergy is that the situation hits hard when they are in their 50s which is after the time when re-training might work easily. ‘Construction’ whatever it means does not sound like a job for the middle-aged. Thus they are weary and unemployable at the same moment. Then there is the problem I have not mentioned of declining health. The Pensions people do help in this I know but they do not always award a ‘breakdown’ pension.
David it is good to have you back again. You have obviously found a word to encourage you in your ‘weariness’.
Good to have you active again David
Thanks Stephen. I can walk again now, without fainting.
The morale of my team matters a great deal to me if I’m trying to get something done through them. If half of them are weary and the other half despondent, the chances are they won’t be very effective.
But what is the aim of the Church of England? What’s its goal; what’s it for?
Wars are about offense or defence. The C of E is mainly defence. It already has the whole kingdom, divided up into thousands of parishes, with a soldier in charge of each (or several). The parish priest.
Although clergy have similar training, sometimes wear uniforms and have similar duties, they are not collectively a team, because they act individually. The parish persists whatever they do, with or without them.
Are the vicars happy or sad? It won’t make any difference century on century. Some will rise and prosper and some will wither and fade, but the C of E will continue to BE.
At the moment some ministers get paid and have that rare thing: a pension. Many do not. The older you get, the more you worry about such things because you start to wonder how you will manage in your dotage, you and your dependents.
Their options are decidedly limited, as you say: dig in and endure, or crash out and have nothing. Other careers are a mirage.
So they have to stay. Morale doesn’t really come into it. Sure, a good “manager” can help share the burden and be a shoulder to lean on. I gather there are some very good bishops.
Another source of potential stress is the parishioners. Try hiring or firing volunteers! You get what you’re given, some really good, some not so much. It will take all your leadership ability to stand still. No wonder people are weary and limit what they try to achieve.
I’m not sure it’s possible to “manage” individual morale collectively. The problem is structural and that structure is a rock. Using this metaphor I would suggest it’s like sandstone. It’s eroding through bad conditions, crumbling in places, but a rock nonetheless.
I note that there have pilot studies into new structures and “fresh expressions”, but the underlying bedrock rock has not moved.
If I came across an injured soldier, I would try and help. At the moment, that’s the best we can do.
“I understand there are some very good Bishops!” It made me laugh , but it shouldn’t. The trouble is, the vicar may be having a bad time, but if they are giving you a hard time too, you don’t feel like helping them. It’s pretty widespread. I knocked myself out trying to build a good relationship with two successive clergy in our church. I thought that was my duty as “their” Reader. Both were hated by the time they left, neither showed me a fraction of the loyalty I had offered them. And in both cases, it damaged my relationships with church wardens and the like. One at least was also unhappy. I was sorry about that, but I’m afraid I did think he’d made his own troubles.
Will the CofE just go on? What if Dioceses just go bust? It’s nominally run by the government. What if the government gets tired of an organisation that is still prejudiced against women, and refuses to put right abuse cases, and just strides in and sorts it out? In both senses!
“Laughter is the best medicine”, someone said!
This place is valuable for friends to catch up and old acquaintances to be renewed.
I’ve seen nurture here, care, frustrations vented and fear.
This is actually a team, albeit an unofficial one. Different members with different roles. Each contributes to the good of the whole, and for the common goal of countering power abuse, amongst other things.
Some moderate, some reveal, others explore, others teach. Searching for a better Way, a clearer Truth, a fuller Life.
Church perhaps?
Oh, I came in at the beginning and I concur. This place has kept me sane. And I can see that I’m not alone, and that others have suffered worse. Which helps. And cautiously may I say, I feel useful. Which is very precious.
Perhaps the clergy could have access to more spiritual advisors. While managers could take some of the burden from Bishops. This might help morale.
Thanks Stephen. We public the draft Covenant for Clergy Care and Wellbeing next month and I gather the next tranche of research on the Experiences of Ministry Survey is due out soon. Lots to digest in the coming months therefore.
Thank you very much for this.
“Another Archdeacon I used to know, who worked in a rural diocese, was proud of the fact that he had succeeded in closing over a dozen churches. He had thus relieved the strain on several country benefices. Since he left the area, no further churches had been closed. What he had started was, he felt, a real contribution to the possibility of the very survival of the church in the countryside.”
Of course this shows what damage senior clergy can do. In my experience, when a church closes the community affected becomes wholly unchurched. It will not travel a couple of miles down the road to attend church in a neighbouring parish. Effectively, the Church (and, often, the cause of Christianity) is snuffed out altogether and it becomes a ‘dead zone’. I have encountered areas (in the Wye valley below Hereford, in east Leicestershire, along the Trent valley, in the environs of Louth, in parts of south Essex, etc.) where there are several contiguous extinct parishes and the communities themselves feel as though they have lost their souls. The Church will have lost its physical presence in the community, and will almost certainly not regain it.
A large proportion of active ‘working’ clergy will have been born between about 1950 and 1965. If they took orders young they will have done so at the point where real clerical incomes were falling rapidly on account of the high inflation of the 1970s and early 1980s (but such high inflation was an unexpected and unwelcome novelty). They will also have entered ministry before they might have appreciated that high house price inflation was not a temporary aberration but an almost permanent fact of life (owing to changes to the taxation of owner occupation in 1963 and 1965 which sanctioned permanent tax free speculation). They will have done so before it became evident that attendance was, almost everywhere, in permanent run-off. However, they had committed themselves, and changing course (which would often mean expensive re-training in the highly uncertain jobs market of the 1980s and 1990s) would have been very risky. So, as the decades have passed the latent, nagging anxieties about what is to happen after they reach 70 have increased. This, together with the progressive loss of public esteem for the clerical profession, must have weighed heavily on many.
Many clergy will be dependent upon spouses/partners for the bulk of their incomes. Many will be anxious that their inheritance (often the only source of capital that will allow them to have a reasonable standard of living in old age) is not dissipated by the care costs of ageing parents. For those who lack these vital cushions, or who have other liabilities, the future is truly dire, save unless the Pensions Board can come to the rescue with often very modest housing. The lump sum payable upon retirement will not come close to covering the cost of even basic accommodation, whilst saving on a clergy stipend must be difficult. A favoured few might get access to the special accommodation afforded by, say, Bromley College (formerly only for clergy widows) or St Barnabas Dormansland, but that is something of a lottery. I do think there is a likelihood of a recurrence of inflation as resource constraints bite at a global level with a rapidly rising population and environmental degradation, and (in the UK) as there is increasing pressure on the exchange rate, making imported necessities more expensive.
I do think it is time to revisit the Ecclesiastical Offices (Age Limit) Measure 1975, and would query whether it be repealed altogether or that the retirement limit is raised to, say, 80 or more, subject to clergy attending periodic medical inspections after a certain point. After all, there are a great many active people in their seventies and many would be hugely relieved not to have to confront the housing market for another decade. Young people ought to think very carefully indeed about responding to the siren calls of those in authority for more full time clergy: if youngsters do not have affluent parents or a professional partner, they may well face deteriorating living standards or possible unemployment, as the main source of their income – the parish share – declines in lock step with collapsing attendance and the freehold is a thing of the past.
However, we should recognise that there was a time before the clergy had any pensions (though there were schemes prior to 1961), and the fate of widows was often awful.
It should also be noted that there are parts of the country where there have been other contributing factors to low morale. When I went around the Chichester diocese between 2009 and 2013, it was evident (especially in the Lewes ‘area’) that morale was below rock bottom, for reasons which will be well known to readers of this blog. When Martin Warner was translated to Chichester, he undertook a tour of each deanery: this was the first time a diocesan had visited a large part of the diocese since Roger Wilson’s time. This expenditure of effort gave morale a fillip (I suspect a temporary one); so, for all their faults, bishops can sometimes make a positive difference.
Froghole, I agree that a good Bishop can make a positive difference. Closing churches has a negative impact, as well as a positive one, too. But if only three people attend, you can’t say that it is closing the church that has precipitated the decline. The CofE isn’t good at gathered church, but perhaps it can learn. Where I do take issue is people with far more money than me moaning about being poor! A modest pension is better than none at all, like me. I bought a house on £8,500 a year. And at one point, I was the major earner. I was surprised when I googled clergy stipends. It is low. And something would have to give if they became employees, because with their long hours, it’s below the legal minimum hourly rate. But I worked in retail. You know, the people who work evenings and weekends. And on low pay so the prices are kept down. My wages as a branch manager never came anywhere near a clergy stipend. Imagine what my staff had to manage on. It’s never wise to complain about low pay in front of those who have less. Rant over!
Thanks for this analysis. Your profile of current active working clergy could be me…born mid fifties, ordained in my 20’s (single) then married and children (now grown and gone). Even in the late 70’s/early ’80’s I rarely heard colleagues at Chapter or elsewhere talking about ‘mission and outreach’ or worries about paying parish quota. How things have changed! As a young man I really admired some of the old lags, one in particular had been an army chaplain during WWII and seen action, who had a quiet confidence in their vocation and place in the community. Very little seemed to worry them and I imagined and hoped I’d one day end up like that. No such luck. I rarely go to clergy gatherings now as I can’t cope with all that neurotic angst. Diocesan initiatives and training days make me shudder.
My first diocesan hand wrote Christmas cards for all his clergy and was in the habit of ‘dropping in’ when passing for a cup of tea. My current one sends email with round robin greetings and details of the charity being supported in lieu of cards and has never once visited our home.
I’ve been lucky, enjoyed the parishes I’ve served and enjoyed being a vicar because that’s what I always wanted to be. However I’m realistic in seeing the future will still be a bit of a tightrope financially. My last pension statement is a full one but two thirds of not a lot is still not a lot. Have a very small house to move to but updating and small extension takes care of the lump sum and half our savings.
Could keep going but the challenges now outweigh the pluses and having recently become grandparents it’s time to stop. I won’t be seeking PTO.
I was ordained in 1987 and I can’t recall ever having a diocesan bishop visit my home, although one or two suffragans have. As I said earlier, dioceses do vastly differ.
Ordinary, I hope you enjoy your retirement.
Thanks for a thoughtful post. I agree much more work needs to be done to understand the strains on clergy and nurture clergy wellbeing. And it certainly can feel difficult to seek pastoral support from someone with the power to make vital decisions about your future.
But I think there is also an element among many clergy of being unwilling to ask for help, of simply soldiering on without seeking support or being honest with people about the challenges. The reasons for that unwillingness need to be explored. It certainly includes a fear that showing weakness might result in being thought of negatively by senior clergy. But there must be more to it than that.
I have a hunch that some of it comes down to a desire among many to be independent. For example, if I take a problem in the parish to my bishop or archdeacon (which I do fairly regularly), and ask for their advice, I’m may not have to follow it. In that sense it’s not like a direct report asking for guidance from a line manager. Nonetheless if I, having asked for their advice, don’t follow it, that can feel awkward. So I suspect in some cases clergy don’t ask for help because they don’t want to feel bound by advice from above.
There is also a question about wider structures of support. Incumbents in particular have relatively little day-to-day oversight / supervision, and getting support requires a lot of discipline and motivation to sustain one’s own networks and relationships. Plenty of clergy I think just don’t feel they can prioritise their own wellbeing amid all the demands and pressures of parish and personal life. So we certainly need to do something to encourage more proactive self-care.
Lots of knotty issues here and it will take a lot more work (and of course feel very different from people). But it’s good to know people are thinking and talking about it, thank you.
Philip, I do think the church abuses its clergy. It overworks them, and fails to supervise them, in the sense of both care and control. Treating them as employees would help!
#Young Leaders
“Young people ought to think very carefully indeed about responding to the siren calls of those in authority for more full time clergy”
On the one hand the Church needs young leaders with whom the youth can perhaps more readily identify. On the other hand increasingly healthy older people want to carry on working to postpone the issues identified in above comments.
I share concern that the young are being flattered into “Leadership” without the savvy to realise the considerable life risks they are taking on.
‘I do think it is time to revisit the Ecclesiastical Offices (Age Limit) Measure 1975, and would query whether it be repealed altogether or that the retirement limit is raised to, say, 80 or more, subject to clergy attending periodic medical inspections after a certain point. ‘ (Froghole)
We would need to look at this carefully. It might work for some, particularly if they have help in their parish and a partner to take some of the burden of keeping the vicarage and garden in order. But what of those who haven’t the energy to work 70-80 hours a week and do all the domestic stuff as well? If the retirement age were 80 they could lose some of their pension for retiring at 70 or 75 – and still have to buy a house or pay steep rents in the private sector.
Additionally, in many places the retired clergy are keeping the Church going; clergy retiring late or in poor health are less available to help.
John Tiller warned in 1984 that the parish system was no longer sustainable. Heard him speak in the 90s when he said that since nothing had been done, the strain on clergy was becoming increasingly obvious, with breakdowns in physical or mental health, suicides, or moral disintegration. Some priests react to unbearable ongoing pressure by engaging in risky behaviour with alcohol, sex, or finances.
As a matter of fact it’s doubtful the parish system has ever worked well in cities. A late 19th C Bishop of Manchester complained that it didn’t work in Manchester and never had.
So I don’t think the Church of England is a rock, even a weathered bit of sandstone. It’s more like a mighty oak which is battered and hollow, and may be nearing the end of its life. We can prop up the limbs and clear away the b its that drop off, but one day it may just blow over. And that could happen in our time.
The Church in England – that’s a different matter. New forms of church are evolving and some of them may flourish and last, as the parish system evolved when the monasteries were taken out of the equation. There’s the revival of interest in pilgrimage; modern monasticism and dispersed communities; Celtic spirituality; black churches and independent/community churches; and online communities like this one.
But I don’t see the Church of England lasting much longer in its present form, for all the reasons several of you have mentioned.
I agree with much of this, and I have encountered a number of clergy who have noted that the expedient of forming massive benefices (especially in dioceses like Canterbury, Chelmsford, Lincoln, Norwich, Eds & Ips or Winchester) or mission communities (in Carlisle and Exeter) has created increasing stress and is suffering from rapidly diminishing returns. However, when you write ‘it could happen in our time’, I would answer “it *will* happen in our time” almost everywhere, and within only a few years.
The question is whether there is any intrinsic merit in having some form of church representation in each community. I think there is, and the need might even increase over the next generation if social and economic conditions worsen. Yet if the answer to that question is ‘no’ or that it doesn’t matter, especially if there are other substitutes, whether physical or virtual, then is really becomes a matter of determining what should happen to the buildings (which, in my view, should in large measure become a public trust funded by the partial dis-endowment of the Commissioners). Essentially, what you seem to be suggesting, is that almost the whole clerical-legal superstructure is now practically redundant and should be wound up.
Most churchgoing people, I suspect, would rather maintain their church building than have a stipendiary minister in their midst. In many parts of the country stipendiaries are becoming, of necessity, de facto area deans, whose role is increasingly supervisory. If the parish system is to be retained at all in many places, it will probably be by virtue of there being an untrained or semi-trained volunteer point person (almost certainly not ordained or even a reader) who can lead offices which will, naturally, not be eucharistic. This seems to be happening in some places, and liturgical duties can even be shared by rotation without any difficulty. In effect, it would be a reversion to pre-Oxford Movement practice of reading out someone else’s sermons/homilies, and communion being infrequent, only this time without a clergyperson. Those tired of the monotonous staple diet of 1980s and 1990s family communions – with the priest at the centre – will probably not resent the change. The loss of pastoral care provided by some clergy would be a problem, but as Mr Parsons has noted in a recent blog there are already a number of clergy who ‘don’t do pastoral’…
Perhaps part of the issue is that some (and by no means all) clergy born in the first couple of decades after the war are exhausting and demoralising themselves by cleaving to a pattern of ministry in which their trainers were trained – a pattern rendered largely obsolete by many recent social changes. So we should not only be thinking about the purpose of parish ministry or the continued existence of parishes, but the wider question of what clergy are *for* in an increasingly atomised, variegated and incoherent society, where people are increasingly disinclined to be led and can teach themselves online (for all that it often makes them more knowing than knowledgeable).
The mission communities model might work if it were properly tried. Clergy being given more power=more stipend, and untrained people leading worship are not the way to go. Especially when trained people are available but not used.
‘Essentially, what you seem to be suggesting, is that almost the whole clerical-legal superstructure is now practically redundant and should be wound up.’ I haven’t said that; I’ve suggested it seems to be dying, which is not quite the same thing. And I have faith that the Church Militant, as opposed to any particular denomination, will continue in some form or other.
That doesn’t mean there won’t be losses – indeed, we’re already experiencing many of them. When the monasteries were destroyed, people who had relied on them for employment, education, charity and health care were often left bereft. The C of E can no longer offer, in every place, clergy with time to visit all the sick, listen to everyone’s problems, and write learned books, study natural science, or whatever. In fact it doesn’t offer those in many places any more. I for one regret their loss.
Thank you. Then I think that we broadly agree. The only difference is that, based on my (admittedly very superficial) assessment of a very large number of parishes I have visited it doesn’t ‘seem’ to be dying, but it *is* dying, and pretty comprehensively.
On current projections the Church of England will, very soon, form only a relatively small proportion of the ‘Church Militant’, and the Church Militant will probably form only a very small proportion of the overall population.
It is not merely that there ‘won’t be losses’, but that the losses are likely to be truly catastrophic and comfortably in excess of 95%. If I have seen the better part of 4,500 congregations (granted that some of the services I have attended are not ‘main’ Sunday services), markedly fewer than 100 have had a demographic spread bearing any resemblance to that of the general population, whilst the vast majority have a demographic profile not altogether unlike a drawing pin.
I pray that this can be reversed, but I don’t think it’s going to happen. I am not certain that many of those in authority really realise, or are prepared to admit, the extent and irreversible nature of this slowly unfolding cataclysm.
Best advice I had was from my GP when I was talking to him about stress:
‘Do less and do it better’
When I told the Archdeacon that I was trying my best to follow that strategy she replied ‘how strange’.
I am very fortunate, having recently retired, in that [1] I completed 41 years service so have max pension [2] my parents never needed additional care and so left me a more than adequate inheritance [3] my partner is in the same position and not quite retired, and [4] we were able to choose the house we wanted in the town we wanted to retire to.
I’m increasingly aware that this list is not being ticked by a large number of clergy, retired or still in paid service.
Funnily enough, when a certain parish I was in had a mission audit, the Archdeacon actually said that what we should do was, altogether now, do less and do it better! Phrases involving right and left hands spring to mind!
Congratulations Nicholas on completing 41 years of service. There must be many who get ‘weary’ as they come into the last straight of full-time ministry. One of the problems for clergy is the timing of their last post. There used to be an assumption that if you had not moved to your final appointment by the age of 58, then you were stuck there till retirement. 7 years in a post that you would like a change from is hard but still harder, now that 68 is the new minimum, is ten years. It may seem even worse for the parishioners. A survey ought to be made of the older clergy that should move for their own (and everyone else’s)sanity. It is among them that there is real ‘weariness’. I did my last 7 years before retirement in Scotland, a refreshing change in many ways. The expression ‘hanging on till retirement’ does not indicate good morale.
Yes, Stephen, I know a number hanging on to retirement at 70 because of the need for a larger pension [especially women who were ordained late].
You’ve put your finger on a good point about the penultimate post & timing for one last one; as it happened, what I thought was the penultimate one turned out to be a rapidly changing inner-city post that kept me fresh [until the last 18 months when I did get tired – and shared that fact with the congregation.]
I dread to think what the results of progressively raising both State and Church retirement ages will be. At an [excellent] 48 hour pre-retirement seminar, we had someone from the Pensions Board to give individual interviews. We looked together at the extra groats payable if I went to 68, having already done 40 years by then. She turned to me and said ‘hardly worth it, is it?’
I do feel sad about this, and not meaning to be unsympathetic. But ordinary people do get weary too! I worked on a till after I went back to work, the same problem as clergy leaving the ministry, too old for anything else. Exacerbated by being female and therefore low status! I loved it. A constant throughput of people, every day different. Not too stressful. Although there was a certain amount of bullying, and that’s unpleasant. But by the time I left, I’d had enough. I couldn’t just stop, because we needed the money, but lifting dog food got harder on the arthritis. I kept going until I was entitled to keep the discount card into retirement. Which is worth a few groats! But I have no pension. This it seems to me is a national problem rather than a church one particularly. If you want people to carry on working to 70, say, or 75, some are going to be fit and able, and too easily bored to want to stop. But others are not. As a society rather than particularly as a church, we need to take account of things like moving into part time jobs as you get older. But relatively young people, 40s and 50s, wanting to leave what should be a hugely rewarding job like ordained ministry, now that’s serious.
I’d be interested to know how many hours you were working when you were on a till. Many clergy end up doing 60 hours-plus just to get everything done, and do so with only one day off a week.
I think the other factor which is distinctive about clergy is that we live on the job, and it can be near impossible to guard our own space. The phone and doorbell can go at almost any time of day or night, and then you’re instantly on duty again. You can never really relax. I’ve had people insist that I deal with their baptism application, or whatever, then and there – when I’ve had flu, been in the middle of a meal, entertaining guests, and on my way out to an appointment. The constant interruptions are very tiring.
That makes the job quite different from when I was working in an office or a shop.
Oh, I agree with you both. But low status and powerlessness wears you out, too. And poverty. I was part time on the till, but there are others who aren’t. Clergy usually work far too many hours. It’s a form of abuse, and I have said so before. But nominally at least, clergy get paid far more. £25,000 a year isn’t much, but most full time shop workers will be on about £16,000.
Yes, shop workers and care workers and so many others get paid far too little.
And others besides clergy are disillusioned and tired – teachers, and NHS workers, for instance.
What’s different about being stipendiary and ordained – in parish ministry at least – is that it eats up your whole life. You have no time of your own, no space of your own; you work anti-social hours and have little opportunity for outside interests. And even so, you’re probably getting complaints about what you’re not doing, or not doing well. Everyone has their own idea about what the vicar should be doing.
Oh, I know. Believe me, I’ve seen it.
Surely divisions within the Church lower morale. In my life time ( im 69) the traditions have moved apart as well as specific areas of conflict like women and the gay issue. People dont feel the same sense of common purpose rather pulling in many different directions. This affects pastoral re-organisation, attendance at Chapter, Deanery Synods and clergy relations. There is a sense of growing fragmentation as well as decline and this can seem depressing as people dig in and keep their heads down.This isnt the case everywhere of course but Im sure its more widespread than it was when i was ordained in 1980.
I wonder whether this is unique to the clergy. I am now 53 and have worked for the same organisation doing basically the same job for 25 years. At times I enjoy it; at other times a certain ennui is apparent, at others I find it very stressful. Morale in the organisation generally seems low.
I’m impressed you’ve been able to stay the course, despite the difficulties Simon!
Not sure why my earlier attempt to comment on this blog did not appear. Perhaps because I tried to include hyperlinks.
I head the clergy support charity Sons & Friends of the Clergy, and we certainly do see evidence of burnt out clergy suffering from stress and low morale, something we hope to help address as part of our strategic relaunch next year.
But I was going to say that there is some ‘available evidence’ on clergy morale, and this is the Living Ministry research undertaken last year by Ministry Division. This suggested that clergy wellbeing (as measured by the Warwick-Edinburgh Mental Well-Being Scale) is not significantly different from the general population. Married clergy have the highest wellbeing score, which is perhaps not surprising. Concerns about finances, retirement and the quality of relationships weighed heavily on clergy wellbeing, but again these are factors which affect us all. The issue for the Church, and charities like us, is how we support those clergy (a minority in my view, but a significant one) whose financial circumstances and mental and physical health place them in a ‘crisis’ situation.
I think there is an issue with clergy morale and a perceived lack of support from bishops etc. I arrived in my current parish a while back and had moved partly because it had a nearly full-time NSM and four active retired clergy (whereas previously I had been on my own with four churches). For a variety of reasons (life circumstances rather than anything to do with me), they all disappeared in a short space of time. When I expressed my concern to the diocesan bishop about how I was going to manage (in advance of them going) the response I got was pretty much along the lines of – well you’ll just have to get on with it. In more recent times I have been involved with a number of other clergy who are fed up, drained, weary, feeling unlistened to etc etc.
Sounds familiar. Any Readers? Anyone who might be able to train as a Reader?
Poor morale is more properly called Poor Leadership.
Whilst morale is not directly measurable there are some time honoured indicators of Poor Leadership to wit: Sickness levels and the numbers of people leaving.
As English Athena said earlier on:
But relatively young people, 40s and 50s, wanting to leave what should be a hugely rewarding job like ordained ministry, now that’s serious.
The symptoms and “issues” have been well stated by Stephen but a number of others have also highlighted some failures of “Leadership”.
Steve Lewis’ question:
“But what is the aim of the Church of England? What’s its goal; what’s it for?”
That question is the very essence of Strategic Leadership.
Froghole:
Foghole, too, makes some excellent points not only about demographics but he also highlights (another) of the basic skills of leadership . . .”Know your people”
The new buzz in our diocese is Resource Church. Sounds wonderful for those doing it- but I was left with the impression that those of us on the edges were there just to give palliative care to the dying remnants of the church we have been part of for all our working lives. And on of our Diocesan Officers said she didn’t do traditional Anglican worship any more. Morale lower when I came out than when I went in.
I think it would be helpful to put some of these comments on the Sheldon Forum website where there are places for discussing these questions. The Warden would like it to be used for support and discussion of and between clergy. This article has brought up a number of issues which should be noted and discussed more widely.
I am not sure how this can be done. Apart from practical issues, this blog is open to all comers and I note that one has to register for the Sheldon website. Some of the comments here are posted anonymously which implies a somewhat different approach. So far the option for anonymity has not been abused.
40 years service and dismissed into oblivion. No thanks, no letter, no acknowledgement of lifetimes work from Diocesan and Suffragan Bishops! Archdeacon gets a Cathedral send off. Church resembles society – two layers; rich and poor, Bishops and clergy. After experiencing six Bishops initiatives I note no growth or change in any of the 3 dioceses. Sadly disillusioned by hierarchy as local churches still trying to do their best. I sense an atmosphere of fear at the top – denied of course. GP said I’m not responsible; move on. No wonder retired clergy are giving up on the institution. Tragic.
So sorry. I hope and pray things will improve for you as time goes on. I know of a Bishop who wrote to the widow after a former, lay, warden of Readers died suddenly. The letter was rambling and unfocused, and among other things said that he didn’t quite know what he had done in the Diocese!!! It wasn’t that he didn’t know the guy, either.