Useful

I grew up in a household thoroughly baptized in the cultural waters of the Protestant Work Ethic and American Pragmatism. My mother was the disciple of the school of hard work; my father followed the doctrine of practicality to the letter of the law. One of the mantras that my parents repeated throughout my childhood(and I gather was a piece of their familial traditions) was, "Don't just stand there...make yourself useful."

Most often, this slogan was a directive toward some sort of action. Upon hearing it, I was to look around, find a task that needed to be done (and if I couldn't find a task, one would be helpfully provided!) and then complete it as cheerfully and as quickly as possible. Check it off the list.

Early on, I noticed a remarkable fact. The list never seemed to go away. There was always something else to do! Productivity was measured in the number of tasks successfully completed.

It wasn't until I was a good bit older that I realized this slogan differed significantly from the usual version heard in our culture -- "Don't just stand there...do something."

Clearly for my parents and their parents activity for activity's sake did not constitute "usefulness". To be useful was to accomplish the right task at the right time for the right purpose. At any rate, usefulness as a person -- one's value in a household, community or society was somehow tied up in activities that contributed to the overall well-being of those social groupings.

In many ways, I am grateful for the prodding that came along with the invocation of that mantra. Over the course of my life, "making myself useful" has assisted me in keeping a job, managing a household and cultivating friendships. In short, I've learned to be a "productive member of society" -- earning wages, consuming goods and services, paying taxes, etc.

What this doctrine of usefulness did not prepare me for, however, was a "profession" (I prefer the word "vocation") that has no immediate, observable utility. After all, what exactly do clergy "do"? This question is asked thousands of times in countless congregations throughout the country every day. And in a country of pragmatists, is it any wonder?

Congregations of nearly every stripe seem to operate with the assumption that there is a need for a leader to shepherd the flock. In most mainline denominations, such as my own, there are standardized compensation "packages", letters of agreement (contracts) and job descriptions. There are some basic tasks that congregations expect of their clergy -- and rightly so.

In a culture obsessed with results and productivity, though, clergy are often in the strange predicament of attempting to justify their existence on the congregational payroll. In the absence of "metrics" (sales quotas, profit margins and the like), we invent them. Being useful is reduced to tasks performed (number of phone calls generated or e-mails answered) or time invested (hours/days "at the office" or in meetings, etc.). With this philosophical framework of "usefulness", Sunday worship attendance turns into a weekly referendum on the clergyperson's effectiveness. Giving trends become the equivalent of "job approval" ratings.

I'm not the first person to articulate any of the foregoing. Methodist Bishop Will Willimon and theologian Stanley Hauerwas identified much of this cultural confusion around clergy role as the main reason for clergy in mainline denominations becoming little more than "quivering masses of availability" -- enslaved to the "need to be needed".

Today is my fourth anniversary as the pastor of Trinity, Wauwatosa. I don't have any answers to any of the questions raised by these ramblings. I've wrestled with many of these issues for the entire time I've been ordained. I suspect the wrestling match will continue for the foreseeable future. But right now, I need to stop sitting at the computer...and go make myself useful.