This week, I read through a news piece which talked up the burn-out rate of ministers in America....now developing into a problem where guys/gals walk off the job.
Trigger? Well....you would think that the primary job is just to write up a simple 40-minute sermon for Sunday, chat up Moses ten times more than what he deserves, avoid Revelations and demon-chatter as much as possible, pray for sick folks, and just provide a marginal amount of inspiration to folks. That's it....it was pretty simple.
In the past decade, the minister folks have all become politicized. Either the 'headquarters' hypes this, or the local deacons, or just membership itself. So you are working constantly to irk a quarter of congregation....forcing them to leave, and then constantly back in a recruitment drive to bring new people in with like-minded ways to your political dynamics.
Was the profession completely neutral prior to the past decade or two? No....you can go back even to the 1960s/1970s, and find some political gaming going on. It's just that in the current era....everything is played to the maximum.
If you were trying to run a non-politicized church? I think you'd generally fail within a year or two....because of the current dynamics at work.
What happens to the burn-out ministers? I would imagine they end up selling real estate, running a insurance agency, and shift-manager work at grocery stores.
Just an odd thing to think over....burn-out from too much politics.
This soon reaching schools and teachers? Oh, I would imagine it's already going on.
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After two decades as very active participants in our church, the preacherette mumbled two words:
* 'Caucasian nationals'.
The preacherette is Caucasian, the congregation is Caucasian.
The way she casually included us, all of us, in her broad-brushing of everything wrong with this particular planet... that rubbed us the wrong way.
We stood in the middle of her talk, put on our coats, and abandoned the congregation.
.
Those two words and the instant transformation of our friends and neighbors from good decent warm-hearted caring to a blood-thirsty rage-blinded lynch-mob was enough.
.
This defining moment came a couple weeks after she invited the local branch outlet of National Associates For Advancements Of Colored People.
That bunch of riff-raff stomped in, their jack-boots stomping on the left step, then stood at the rear of the church, glaring hatred at us.
Twice, she invited them to join her at the podium to share their views.
In response, they glared their hatred at her, then continued glaring their hatred at the congregation.
At a sign from their leader, the bunch of them turned in unison and stomped out.
Without a word.
.
For over two years, we avoid contact with any member of the congregation, and the house-band.
.
We drove by last week after visiting our insurance folks next door.
Trees removed so the place resembles a barren desert, but the kicker:
* several junk RecreateVehicles hooked to the electric, their junkie residents glaring at us as though we had no business there.
.
I feel sad about the delusions I hid behind, hoping my friends and neighbors would be able to see our enemies among us.
That hope was misplaced.
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