| WRITING ABOUT the “Call to the Ministry” in 1877 (published in Lectures to my Students), the great Baptist preacher Charles Spurgeon advised those in doubt about their calling to take opinions from their wisest friends, and from other students. “I have noticed there has hardly been an instance where the opinion of the entire college has been erroneous,” he said.
Reading reports on bishops’ alleged concerns about the quality of entrants to ministry, preaching standards, and clergy exhaustion (News, 6 June) led me back to this book. I would encourage all those who believe themselves called to ministry, and those responsible for assessing candidates, to read Spurgeon’s lecture. Every point he makes seems relevant today.
Feedback for clergy after ordination is not facilitated by the present arrangements. Certainly there were those in my time at theological college whose personalities, the rest of us suspected, would create stresses in a parish.
The bishops also express concern that older clergy lose energy and become dispirited. I have known several who have been given early retirement because of stress. It is worth examining how the Church handles this compared with industry, as, from my experience in business management, what they call “the duty of care” is often better managed there.
One of the most striking aspects of the recent article and letters about clergy stress was that that they mostly described reactive responses by those responsible for the pastoral care of the clergy (Feature, 25 April; Letters, 2 and 9 May). Although dioceses offer therapy for those in need, they mainly seem to be dependent on such people volunteering themselves or being referred.
When episcopal reviews for clergy were introduced 20 years ago, I hoped that these would be the equivalent of the annual performance reviews I had experienced in industry. I had worked for several years at a senior level in industrial relations and training, and as a management consultant. I expected regular performance reviews, involving those above me comparing notes, and deciding whether I was on top of my job or needed some kind of support or further training.
This sense of hope was soon dispelled. The Dean who skilfully carried out my review knew nothing of my performance, and those who did (colleagues, church officers, curates) were not consulted. I could be the most boring preacher in creation, seldom be seen in the community or supporting church activities, and be terrible at enabling lay ministry, but this would not appear in my review.
In businesses today, the practice is of “360-degree appraisal”, where views are taken from peers, subordinates, and supervisors. Hospital chaplains are used to this, as views are taken from patients and medical staff, while the senior chaplain carries out the final assessment.
There are other drawbacks to the systems used by many dioceses. When I noticed that one or two colleagues were clearly under stress and overworking, I asked a member of the diocesan staff if, after a parish visit, he felt the incumbent needed support for the sake of health and family, whether he would mention this at a staff meeting. He was horrified, and described this as a gross breach of trust. The matter would have to wait until the priest asked for help, or broke down.
I know at least two companies (one of which I worked for) that called in managers, told them that they had been assessed as becoming, or had already become, alcoholic, and offered them paid detox arrangements, the alternative being dismissal. In both cases, the offers were accepted, and the staff returned to duty.
In reviews, I felt insulted at the implication that I could not cope with discussion about my performance and welfare at senior level, when business people expect this constantly. This also ignores the way activities such as drinking, sexual indiscretions, gambling, or hiding in the vicarage can be cries for help.
After one appraisal, I mentioned to my archdeacon an issue that I assumed he would know of already through a recent episcopal review. “No, I don’t see yours. It goes into the Bishop’s files as confidential,” was the reply.
Yet I doubt that one bishop can really do justice to sometimes as many as 200 such reviews and the questions they raise. I could not believe that my immediate superior had not seen my review and the strategies in it for parish and personal development.
The other issue raised by the bishops focuses on the demands on clergy in recent years for managing teams, and the stress this causes. It is hard for people immersed in an organisation that is traditionally hierarchical to make without training and help the paradigm shift to collaborative ministry.
Having carried out team-building events for parishes and dioceses, I have seen how difficult the surrendering of unilateral decision-making can be; but the national network that used to provide training for such questions disappeared some time ago.
I have great admiration for many of my fellow clergy — many of whom overwork, know what is going on in their communities, treat worship and preaching seriously, and support church and secular initiatives. I also appreciate that not all that I have written will be the same in all dioceses. Some have taken parts of this on board, but others have yet to begin.
I have frequently noticed that clergy have a fear of the term “management”, and its overtones of commercialism. Yet St Paul tells us to “bear one another’s burdens” and “let each one test his own work” (Galatians 6.2,4). This cannot be done if burdens are hidden away in files, and there is no feedback to test our work.
The Revd Brian Cranwell is a retired priest in the diocese of Sheffield and a former management consultant.
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