Déjà Vu All Over Again
from Steve McKinley
No, it isn’t a mistake. Jean Larson’s excellent article on saying
good-bye from our June issue is repeated here in the July issue. If
you didn’t read it last time, make it a point to read it this time.
As a matter of fact, even if you did read it last time you’d be wise
to read it again this time.
We repeat the article first of all because it is important for
our interns to say a good good-bye. Most of our CLI interns will
soon be ending their internships and heading back to campus. For
many, internship has been a life-changing experience. Those interns
will want to offer proper thanks to congregations and supervisors,
and need to swallow the modesty typical of Lutheran people in
general in order to receive the thanks and tributes of the
congregation.
Most of us are not inherently good at this. Many of us would
prefer to slip out of town quietly in the middle of the night with
as little fuss as possible. Not a good idea. See Jean’s article.
We also repeat the article because so many pastors over the years
have shown themselves to be really bad at saying good-bye. Some of
them have made their own lives unhappy with unresolved issues from
former congregations. They didn’t do the work of saying good-bye
properly and are still living with the consequences of that.
Even more seriously the failure of a pastor to say and practice a
proper good-bye has caused problems for far too many successor
pastors and congregations. Lesson one in pastoral ethics says that
when you leave, you leave. This means that after you are in your
next congregation and your old friend Mrs. Johnson from your former
congregation calls you up and asks you to come back to former
congregation to do Jennifer’s wedding there is only one correct
answer: NO. Likewise requests for baptisms and funerals. All
together now: NO. You are no longer their pastor. Maybe you will
attend the wedding/ baptism/funeral as a friend, but you will not
officiate. That privilege belongs to the person who really is their
pastor. And that ain’t you. (Sometimes someone will say “I still
like to think of you as my pastor.” Well, that’s nice, but…. I still
like to think of Bill Clinton as president of the USA, but that
doesn’t give him the power to declare war or appoint judges.)
But, believe it or not, there are those pastors who say “Yes.” And
there are those really tricky pastors who have not said an honest
good-bye who will respond “I’ll do it if it’s ok with your current
pastor,” thereby putting the present pastor in an impossible bond.
How could she say no to that?
Saying a good good-bye also means that once you have left a
congregation you become the third biggest fan the new pastor has,
right after the new pastor’s spouse and the chair of the Call
Committee. It isn’t your place to second guess your successor, even
when you are asked or invited to do so. That can only create
problems.
Finally, saying a good good-bye means that you take yourself out
of the congregation, at least for a few years. Your successor
doesn’t need you looking over her shoulder with approval or
disapproval. It’s time for the congregation to forget about you, and
your visibility there makes that all the more difficult. Is that
hard? Yes. Painful? Yes. Take it from somebody who has done it a few
times. But is it essential for the life of the church? You bet.
So we repeat the article to assist you with ending internship,
but also to prepare you to be a good and ethical and responsible
pastor. It would not be foolish for you to make a copy of this
article and store it away in your important papers file so that you
can refer to it in the future.
Good Goodbyes 
by Jean Larson
Repeated from the June 2006 issue
Most interns are into the final stretch, with 3 months or less to
go. Now 3 months is a good, long time – it's the better part of an
academic term -- and many of you are busy with special summer
programs and finishing internship projects and covering for
supervisors on vacation. But it’s not too early to start thinking
about and preparing for a good goodbye, so that the work of closure
is honored.
It’s not just "the work," of course. It's the relationships that
have come alive this year – the widow whose husband’s funeral was
your first, the confirmation kids who drove you nuts and brought
forth your most creative efforts, the person on your committee who
gave you confidence, your supervisor whose warts allow you to
acknowledge your own and still dare to proceed – these relationships
need to be honored. And so does your heart and spirit. That’s what
closure is all about.
Roy Oswald describes two ways to do it poorly in his Alban Institute
classic, Running Through the Thistles (1978). One is to soak
up all your parishioners' feelings about your leaving, and keep your
own at bay. This is a recipe for depression. If you don’t want to go
there, take some time to be mindful about how you really are feeling
about leaving. (If you’re mostly happy about moving on in your call,
that’s fine. Own it.) Ponder, journal, pray, talk with your
supervisor.
The other poor closure approach is to race through the goodbyes at
the last possible minute. This is Oswald’s story, the title story.
When Roy was a little guy, he and his brothers would take the
short-cut home from school, through the thistle patch, often
barefoot. (Who says brilliant church gurus don’t have a lick of
sense?) They knew it would hurt, so they’d run as fast as they
could, and then collapse on the other side of the patch to pull out
the thistles that got stuck in their feet. Well, when we leave any
important work and web of relationships, we’re tempted to do the
same. We know it will hurt, so we try to get it over with as quickly
as possible. The wise old coot inside us knows this is a mistake.
You might save a few tears in the short term, but you risk ending up
with ungrieved grief and unthanked thanks, all stuffed inside with
nowhere to go once you’re back at seminary or into your first call.
The congregation, too, is poorly served. They’re left holding their
own bag of unexpressed thanks and unshared toasts, and, if another
intern is to follow, they might not be ready to greet your successor
cleanly.
The alternative to these two forms of denial is "transformational
closure," a.k.a., practice in dying. (Need motivation?) Oswald says
that the way we say goodbye is a little foretaste of the way we will
die. So he gives us 5 closure tasks that parallel the 5 tasks of
dying well. The first four apply to internship; the fifth to future
parish leave-takings.
- Be proactive, not passive. Start thinking now about the
special people at your site who have made a big difference in your
learning. How do you want to say a more personal good-bye –a
visit? a card? a phone call? It’s also time for your internship
committee to begin making plans for the end. New committees might
need a heads-up. Some liturgical rite of "farewell and Godspeed"
should be part of the deal. Check out the little liturgy on our
web site: (http://www.luthersem.edu/contextual_learning/internship/handbook/godspeed.asp).
Talk with your supervisor about his or her plans.
- Get your affairs in order. What loose ends need tying up -- in
projects as well as in relationships? Are there any housing issues
you need to prepare for (utilities, cleaning)? A seasoned
supervisor has said that the best way to make sure you will be
talked about for months after you go is to not clean your
apartment. Some interns leave a note for the next intern, the way
President Bartlett did for Matt Santos at the end of West Wing.
Nice idea. (sigh….)
- Let go of old grudges. Do the work of reconciliation. Start
practicing this one, because you’ll make good use of these skills
for the rest of your ministry. You could wait until the last
passing of the peace, as I once did. It was OK. But the Spirit
gives us courage, so you might as well ask for a little bigger
dose than I did.
-
Say thank you. When in doubt, you can’t lose on this one.
Someone thanks you for the work you did on the clean-up project
and you think your work was shoddy? Say thanks. Others say they’ll
really miss you, but you know you won’t miss them as much? Say
thanks. Having a hard time feeling grateful? Take it to the Lord
in prayer.
- For future reference: Be clear about your reasons for leaving.
This is obvious for interns, although if you’re the first intern
at a site, you might need to remind the folks that leaving is part
of the deal. Even so, you might run into some frustration or even
anger that you have to go. See #4 above and educate.
Goodbyes can be messy. Maybe you'll cry. It's OK. Be mindful, be
honest, and you’ll do ministry even here. After all, "goodbye" is
shorthand for "God be with you." A blessing, at the end, for your
people. And for you.
New CLI Staff Member 
The CLI office on the Luther campus is hiring Kathryn
Ostlie-Olson to assist with office procedures and program details
during the 2006-2007 academic year. She will begin August 2nd and
stay through May 2007. Her office hours will vary but she will be
working approximately 25 hours per week. Kathryn is married to
Marc Ostlie-Olson (Luther student) and they have 2 boys, ages 10 and
6. We will welcome her more fully in the September Ministry in
Context newsletter. Kathryn is pictured below with the staff,
standing, second from the right.
