Sometimes, clergy will talk about the fact that once we head down this path, we can never go back to being “just congregants.” In part because we have a special role to fulfill, which comes with clear boundaries and responsibilities… but also because now we have seen the sausage made! Lay leaders sometimes experience that as well, that when they really get into the heart of leadership in a congregation they find that they have new eyes, unable to just relax into the magic of a Sunday morning without worrying about the AV system or whether the pledges will come in strong enough for next year’s vision.

And that’s true: there is some loss of being able to simply experience a congregation when you move into leadership, though I would say that the feeling of stewardship is also a beautiful one, that a congregation really becomes “yours” when you move from experiencing to taking care of it. There’s another gain, though…certainly one that I feel from my unique vantage point. See, I may see a lot of sausage-making in my job, but I also have the opportunity to see some of the incredibly beautiful, intimate connections that are made behind the scenes of all the work that bustles around our congregation. 

I get to see the Pastoral Care Associates, not just the public work they do organizing visits and meals, but also the way that they support each other, encouraging each other and comforting each other when they are in grief. I get to not just hear the amazing All Music Platform (which I’m listening as I type, thanks to Facebook video), I also get to see the emails the participants send to each other afterward, appreciating each other and sharing in their joy that they were able to create something beautiful together. 

I get to see the Board and lay leaders and staff, thinking and wondering and dreaming together as they create our community’s Focus Goals for the coming year–and I get to see them laughing together, too, and chatting over lunch, and doing the kind of community building which is also a part of those events. 

I get to see unlikely friendship develop, to watch as an octogenarian gets to know a young adult and to learn later that they get together regularly. I get to learn about all the care people offer to each other when someone is having a hard time, care that wasn’t coordinated by anyone “official,” care that just happened because that’s what we do in community. 

It’s true that I can’t walk into WES–and probably neither can many of you–without checking to make sure that the chairs are set right for platform and the curtains are open the right amount. But the view into the sausage-making is so worth it when it brings with it a view into the quiet, connected, behind-the-scenes beauty that makes WES what it is. Thank you for letting me see that…and for creating it, over and over again. 

Warmly,

Amanda