Graham Stacey

formation, placement

Money is a huge issue in ministry: I mean personal money. We have recently become debt free for the first time since entering full-time ministry 9 years ago. This has been both because of some generous people and a lot of hard work earning extra money and scraping by with bear minimum [techniques and examples maybe the subject of another blog].

Becoming a vicar is not done for the money, in fact, you are not paid to do the job. Instead you receive a stipend, which is money to live on so you don’t have to work. The bottom line being that if a vicar was paid for what they did, remunerated, paid for the service provided, then there are few churches in the UK who could afford it.

This provides an odd situation where you could become the incumbent in an area you would never be able to afford to live in. There are certainly many places where the poor of the town live in the Rectory. So there you are ministering to people earning far in excess of you, living in superb houses you usually see in Home and Garden type magazines, whilst you as the vicar are scraping by trying to provide for your kids and afford a weeks holiday each year.

Having painted that picture, I am very grateful for the surprises of being in this ‘living-by-faith’ situation. We have being blessed by money through the door, holiday locations given, help in crises and the regular support by family and friends.

Such a life though provides two points of juxtaposition. Firstly, on a practical level of lifestyle between ourselves and those with more disposable income. Secondly, on managing the internal coveting and calling. Desiring a more wealthy lifestyle and desiring to follow my calling, realising that one probably excludes the other for us.

formation, placement

Most of my experience in church ministry has involved a reasonable amount of ‘projects’. At the Baptist church, the youth ministry was a huge programme, not that relational engagement was low on the agenda but with 250 under 18’s at it’s peek you need programmes. Programmes always bring goals and deadlines for preparation and activity.

There was a much higher emphasis on relational ministry at the Anglican church and a relatively low programme base alongside that. However, there always seemed also to be a project, or several, that we as the leadership team were working on.

Projects produce goals and goals are measurable. I had a conversation with David about measuring ministry and how, in a rural commuter town with many experienced active and retired managers, did he feel the church measured his ministry. We were at the time sitting out in the sun at a very nice place with coffee and cakes.

David’s thoughts were very interesting. He highlighted some areas where the congregation expected to see performance, administration, communication, conduct of services, the condition of the church building and pastoral care.

Most of these points are reasonably measurable and in most cases possible to improve on. The congregation expects a smooth running ship and not to be the victim of unprofessionalism. Interesting that these are seen as professional aspects of being a vicar in today’s world.

It is not unsurprising to see pastoral care on the list. If the people don’t feel cared for, then what is the vicar up to! Obviously this is particularly measurable at the points of crisis. If one family felt unsupported in a time of crisis then the news would soon spread and the vicar would likely be approached.

What is surprising about the list is what is missing. Discipleship, mission [local and global] and growth in numbers. Some of the things that would be towards the top of my list. Is this a difference in approach to ministry, different contexts, differing theology or perhaps emphases on calling?

For my part, I would feel I was side-stepping my calling and short-changing the parish if we were not growing, in love for God, in love for our neighbour and numerically in people entering the kingdom.

formation, ministry, placement

I spent some time with the verger this morning. The vergers job, it seems to me, is to prepare the building for worship and generally oversee the daily operations of the building for those who use it, residents and visitors alike. Alongside that there are some ceremonial aspects which involve a black cloak and a staff. But why a Verger?

What has struck me in the first few days here is the place of place. In youth ministry, space is important, a space to meet and be, but that space is mobile. It’s fabulous if you have a room, or even a building for your youth ministry, but most churches don’t and actually are not the poorer for it. Finding homes, rooms and halls [and even different churches] for space to meet and be is part of being in the mobile, ever moving culture. But as a vicar, place becomes important. Having a large church building [even if in comparison to others it is small] defines the starting place for you ministry. It is “base camp” as Geraldine calls it in the first episode of Vicar of Dibley.

Base camp has a history, a physical history of the building and the communities that have called it “their church” over its time. This history not only defines the physical space with the various stones, pews, monuments and woodwork. It also defines the spiritual space of various practices and “ways of doing things”. Now whilst I have experienced this before in all the churches I have worked in, I had a kind of free pass because of the type of ministry I was involved in which was always seen as radical and new. So I have never taken much thought over how the place defines your ministry. David relates the process of trying to move communion down from the high altar to a table in front of the chancel steps. This was not welcomed but a 6 month trial was agreed. After 6 months 65 survey responses were received and only one indicated that they were happy with the new arrangement. David now does communion at the high altar even though this is against much of his desire, theology and conviction. His ministry has been shaped, or perhaps shoe-horned into, the place.

Because of this strong tie between the vicar and the building, even ministry in the community ultimately refers back to the building. Introducing yourself as the vicar is met with reference to the church, silently or vocally. Being in the schools, council meetings, shops and community events does not and cannot separate you from the building. Of course some church leaders have released themselves from such physical constrains and now meet in a café or school building, but they have in fact just swopped one set of physical constrains for another.

Two thoughts follow. The first is that such a constraint forces you to engage with where that community is coming from. A thorough appreciation of the journey thus far is the foundation of any journey yet to come. It needs to be thorough because just observing the superficial appearances does not reveal the relational investment that members of the community might have with the history and thus the physical aspects of the building. In needs to be an appreciation because just dismissing various episodes in their story as old or worse still as misguided in theology or practice simply means that they won’t follow any leadership you might have to offer.

These thoughts at least, lead me to the attitude change that needs to take place. That is, to learn to love your building: live in it, hear it breath, listen for the heart beat and watch it welcome its visitors old and new. Even if you eventually need to let your building lie in peace and die, you must be in a place to be bereaved before such a suggestion enters your thoughts, let alone the PCC agenda.

In this context, being the Priest-in-Charge sounds rather strange and even arrogant. For surely, until you’re in a place where you love your building you are but a visiting-priest. Visiting and joining in the faith journey of a community.

formation, ministry, placement

After being involved in leading the service in some way or another I have always had the habit of standing by the door as people leave. This is obviously to allow people to interact with the content of the service and of course to put some human contact into the sometimes detached sense of being ‘up-there’ at the front.

In pervious churches this exercise has always had some pretty stiff architectural opposition since the location of the coffee has conflicted with the location of the door. In the end this usually meant that I stood at the door for a few minutes until I felt completely left out of it and then joined the queue for drinks and biscuits.

Having stood at the door at St James’ now a few times there is a clear difference. At the door you have contact, physical and vocal, with everyone at the service. It would have to be their intent if someone wanted to leave without speaking with the vicar. At coffee, I would normally end up speaking to those who wanted to speak to me, either with and agenda or more often simply because they were friends.

Now I understand there will be all kinds of problems with the door model. Primarily, it would only work if there were no coffee. At St James’ the coffee is at the beginning of the service time for those who would like it. Additionally, it could take a long time for everyone to leave if the congregation were of any size, although it did not seem that cumbersome even at Christmas. It would also be easy to count this brief contact as a substitute for the genuine and sustained contact of meeting and visiting the parishioners.

However, the way the door works here at St James’ is that it becomes the link between the ministry in the building, on Sundays, marriages and funerals, and the ministry of being around the town. Speaking to the same person at the church door and behind the post office counter or just simply as they are walking their dog physically breaks a very real mental gap between church services and life. This is perhaps even more so for the non-regular-church-goer who perhaps was only in church for a funeral and Easter but who now knows who the vicar is when they meet in everyday life.

This door ministry has a particular place in small and market town parishes where the vicar does their life in the context of the few thousand people in the parish. There is of course less opportunity as the specific place becomes larger and where community is less tied to place and more to network. But perhaps the challenge arises wherever the church happens to be, how can you help people cross the gap between service and life by your physical presence as the vicar?

formation, ministry, placement

I’m back on my placement for the next 2 weeks and my family have gone back home after dropping me off.

Two weeks is long time to be away from home and something that we would not normally want to do, but this is the way it worked out - hey-ho!.

I am staying with a local family in their gorgeous house in which I essentially have a flat to myself. I will be working on finishing my placement report. This is made up from the blogs I have and will be posting on this time here in Chipping Campden.

I will also be aiming to finish my Liturgy and Worship Essay entitled Common Worship Eucharist: Building community in a fragmented society. This will be looking at the mixed references [Ricoeur] and the ‘performativity’of Eucharistic language. Basically looking at the effectiveness of the community language in a Eucharist service and what effect it has, or how to increase its effect, in a society that has little concept of what community might be.

Picture is the lounge area of the flat in the house where I am staying with the mess I have managed to create in less than 24 hours.

general, writing

It has been a while since Greenbelt and I have been meaning to record a few thoughts that came during that weekend.

My first thought was after Shane Claiborne who spoke about Big Beasts and Little Prophets. What struck both Kate and I about his mix of anecdotes and challenges was that part of been Christian is to be ‘peculiar’ in the eyes of those around you. Sharing extra-ordinary hostility and demonstrating an unmatchable degree of grace in everyday ordinary situations where the people we meet are at their point of need. This calls for a very hands-on approach to life let alone ministry.

Our second thought came after listening to Jim Wallis in conversation with Stephen Timms MP. Jim talked about meeting congress[people] and the three types you meet. First those who follow through their convictions, then those who follow their convictions when they are in line with public opinion and then those who form their convictions by following public opinion. Jim said that all three are walking around with their finger in the air trying to discern what’s on the current wind and where it might be going. Change the wind and all three types will be affected. I have to confess that this is something that excites me. Not that the hands-on life of hospitality and grace doesn’t. Far from it and we have some stories of extraordinary things happening through such hands-on life. But changing the wind…

greenbelt