Special Report: Amid Decline, Clergy Reimagine A Future Through Connection
Your view of the health of American Christian congregations and of their clergy may very much depends on the angle taken: Up from the orchestra or looking down from the balcony.
One thing seems evident: In a country in which Christian affiliation has declined (though there are signs it has stabilized) many Catholic and Protestant clergy face significant challenges: including shrinking congregations, political divisions, financial stress and the need to adapt worship for new generations.
Though most people worship in large congregations, a 2018-19 survey found that the median congregation is small, with average regular attendance around seventy and a budget of approximately $100,000.
Clergy are, by and large, getting older (in 2019, the median age was 59). Almost 20 percent of congregational leaders serve multiple congregations. More than a third (35%) are bi-vocational.
Clergy should be totally stressed out, right? Not so fast.
That’s data captured in the National Survey of Religious Leaders, recently released in full. At the same time, clergy are, by many measures, holding their own, researchers say.
“There's a lot of stress in the general population,” said Mark Chaves, Duke University sociologist and study director. “But when you compare clergy to, you know, other people who are kind of demographically similar in terms of education, for example, they're just either the same or a little happier and more satisfied,”
One caveat? The results are based on a 2019-2020 survey of 1,600 congregational clergy across the American religious spectrum — and doesn’t reflect the effects of the pandemic, which are still being assessed.
Furthermore, new data shows that despite pastors facing unique challenges in their role and often feel overwhelmed, few decide to step away from the pulpit. Only one in 100 pastors leave the ministry each year, according to a Lifeway Research study of evangelical and Black Protestant pastors.
“The rate of pastors departing the pastorate is steady and quite low given the demands of the role,” said Scott McConnell, executive director of Lifeway Research. “Many of those leaving the pastorate feel they are moving at God’s direction to another role of ministry. However, it’s easy for those outside and those inside the church to fixate on those who leave because of conflict, burnout or moral failure. Speculation always overstates these cases, yet these are the outcomes churches can seek to prevent.”
Data shows pastors across the country face a number of challenges. (Unsplash photo)
Different challenges across the country
The future is unpredictable. It is also complicated by the diversity of perspectives, practices and cultures among faith communities.
For instance — there is some data suggesting a higher percentage of mainline Protestant clergy are dissatisfied (or perhaps less satisfied) than their evangelical, Catholic or Black Protestant colleagues (though, counter periodic stories about unhappy clergy, virtually all are at least moderately satisfied with their work).
While it’s unclear why there is a discrepancy in satisfaction levels, said Anna Holleman, a sociologist at Appalachian State University and a research fellow at Duke University “mainline clergy are significantly less likely (though two-thirds of them do) to say they feel care for by their congregations. You can imagine that building community in other parts of their lives would help.”
But it’s unquestionable that across the United States, groups of enthusiastic clergy and mentors are not only assuming there will be a future, but embracing it — a phenomenon that perhaps often goes unnoticed among the torrent of distressing stories about clergy struggles and congregations in conflict.
Whether it’s education and training for Hispanic pastors on the West Coast, a two-year pastoral leadership program knitting together civic leaders and clergy in the heart of the Midwest or clergy prayerfully brainstorming for congregations in transition in historic New England, clergy are planning ahead.
In cohorts, small groups, classrooms, and one-on-one conversations, they are participating in a series of community-based projects that may help provide working models and research findings for other congregations and denominations.
These projects are, generally speaking, not spontaneous gatherings but the result of careful planning, and deep philanthropic pockets. Many programs across the country working with clergy rely on grants from large charitable organizations like the Lilly Endowment (one of the world’s biggest philanthropic organizations) for support.
These ventures, often funded for years, have become laboratories for testing what kinds of connections will provide clergy with support, skills, and access to help them navigate an American religious landscape very much in flux.
The pandemic brought new challenges for pastors that they are still dealing with today. (Unsplash photo)
Before and after the pandemic
A professor of sociology at Hartford International Institute for Religion and Peace and director of the Hartford Institute for Religion Research (recipient of a multimillion dollar Lilly grant), Scott Thumma has done a prodigious amount of research both on clergy and congregations.
Asked what skills future pastors will need, he said bluntly, “Not ones taught in seminary.”
Very few clergy have wrapped their heads around what it means to have both a an in-person and a virtual congregation — while offering that online congregation opportunities available to the ones who sit in the pews, like the ability to volunteer.
A recent survey of 25,000 attendees suggests, he said, an expectation gulf between those who showed up before and after the pandemic.
“The role of the clergyperson, always a complex one, has gotten even more complex since the pandemic,” Thumma said. “It’s definitely a more challenging time.”
The level of loneliness among clergy can be great, he said.
“It’s hard to be a pastor,” said Loren Richmond Jr., himself ordained in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).
A resident of the Denver metro area and host of the podcast Future Christian (oh yeah, he’s also got a Substack, The Church Nerd), Richmond, who has served congregations in a variety of different denominations himself, thinks pastors will need to become social entrepreneurs, pondering how to best use their buildings to benefit the local community.
“The social dynamics are such that pastors, for good or bad, often behave a lot like community organizers,” he said.
Across the country, clergy, coaches, and educators equipping pastors for the long haul are very much attuned to the regional and cultural circumstances in which they serve.
Approximately 25 miles from Los Angeles, Enrique Zone, associate dean for urban and multicultural programs at the evangelical Azusa Pacific Seminary, is helping the Hispanic and urban leaders enrolled in El Centro Teológico Hispano, many of whom have already worked as pastors for years if not decades, hone their theology in a way that integrates their sense of calling with the inevitable challenges they will face.
Azusa has also received substantial Lilly Endowment funding as part of its “Pathways for Tomorrow Initiative.”
Difficulties will come, he said, whether it be manifested through physical illness or divisive church politics. What’s important is knowing that “the Lord will walk you through them. They are part of the Christian walk.”
He tells people engaged in ministry that they have to be truly called, he said, “because if you are not called, it’s not a happy time.”
More than two thousand miles away, among the plains and rolling hills of the Midwest, another Lilly-funded “Pathways For Tomorrow” project, now in its ninth cohort, aims to engage clergy in building relationships, not only with each other, but with civic leaders in their communities, said Libby Manning, the ELCA pastor (and program graduate) who directs the Wabash Pastoral Leadership Program.
Ministers enrolled in the cohorts meet approximately ten times a year, living in a dormitory-like setting at Wabash College, and participating in theological reflection as well as in-depth conversations with Indiana community leaders focused on topics like education, demographics, and healthcare.
A purposefully diverse group, one that encompasses a broad range of doctrinal perspectives and viewpoints, Manning said these early-career pastors return to their congregations ready to build relationships — and possibly launch new collaborative initiatives with local leaders. The program includes one national and one international study tour.
Wabash College in Indiana hosts the Wabash Pastoral Leadership Program. (Photo courtesy of Wabash College)
‘Playing the long game’
Thus far clergy have partnered with local leaders on projects including welcoming immigrants, or creating warming centers for areas affected by climate change, Manning said. Having them involved can make a positive difference.
“We are playing a long game,” Manning said. “We don’t think that the pastors are going to change the whole context on any issue, but we do think their participation, voice and moral authority can help shape the conversation.”
No clergy in her cohorts have left the ministry so far, she added with a hint of pride.
“Resiliency is fostered by building those relationships with civic leaders. It has really helped when the hard winds blow. We also think that has something to do with a more expansive view of what the office of pastor can be,” Manning said.
For Gary, Indiana clergyman Rameen Jackson, the experience was “definitely an eye-opener.” A Baptist minister, Jackson is the senior pastor at St. Timothy Community Church.
He said the Wabash program helped him make connections in his own community, and incorporate much of what he learned into congregational life. But it also gave him a new perspective on the multitude of different personal narratives that exist, both within and outside the walls of his churches.
Conversations with immigrants in McAllen, Texas, and time in Ghana widened that narrative lens even further, encouraging participants to “come to the table, have a discussion, and be heard.”
His cohort, which was racially, denominationally, theologically, and even politically diverse, became a “safe space to express your thoughts, and still feel respected and valued.”
In Indianapolis, where Old Bethel Methodist Church is situated, has many residents who live at or below the state income average, and the third largest food pantry in the state, said lead pastor Adriane Rockhill.
Rockhill said she was drawn to the program by a desire to have profound conversations and develop relationships with other clergy, similar to one’s she had in seminary. She always wanted to dialogue with them about the practical aspects of pastoral life.
When she began the program, she was pastor of a church in Carmel, Indiana. After reaching out to the Carmel city planner, she, and her husband both became engaged in Indiana politics. He even ran for office.
The aforementioned husband? He’s also a pastor. Rockhill, a then-divorced mother of three, met him when they were part of the same cohort.
Both Jackson and Rockhill sound almost ebullient about the connections they have made in the Pastoral Leadership Program.
“Colleagues have become friends. It’s almost like having this ministry family I belong to now,” Rockhill said.
Civic leaders also expressed enthusiasm about engaging with area clergy.
“As a community foundation, one of our focus areas is community engagement and community leadership development. Having strong relationships with the faith leaders is important as we think about how we can better engage residents to address community needs,” said Kelly Anoe, who heads the Legacy Foundation in northwestern Indiana, in an email. She cited numerous conversations with clergy, some of them ongoing, and aimed towards building partnerships.
While, New England is famous for its leafy town greens and picturesque churches, it is also one of most secular corners of America. (Unsplash photo)
Don’t go at it alone
In the Northeast, much less overtly religious, clergy are coming up with new ways to envision a future in which faith still plays an active and vital role.
While, New England is justly famous for its leafy town greens and venerable, picturesque white-columned churches, it is also (competing with parts of the West Coast) one of most secular corners of America.
Drawing on a constituency of early career clergy, the Pastoral Innovation Network, helmed by Hartford Institute staff, is geared to strengthening pastors who may face a variety of challenges, including part-time leadership to the possibility of merging with other congregations. Research findings are then shared with regional clergy and denominations.
A faculty associate at Hartford Seminary, Allison Norton directs the Pastoral Innovation Network (another Lilly-funded project), is now working with its third cohort of approximately twenty to thirty early to mid-career clergy. Many, if not all, are pastoring aging, historically White congregations in neighborhoods that have experienced changing demographics, said Norton.
She also noted that the cohorts contain many women, strong representation of the LGBTQ community, as well as many clergy working part-time.
Yet “in the midst of a really challenging milieu, they believe change is possible, that they are doing good, they can support each other, and that the work of the Spirit is ongoing,” Norton added.
While many are grateful for their roots in historic denominations, she said, they also question whether there isn’t a need for change, new life and ideas that may or may not exist within the current denominational structure.
In some ways, Allen Avenue Unitarian Universalist Church in Portland, Maine, as described by minister Tara Humphries, sounds like a typical mainline Protestant congregation: Lots of Baby Boomers, some folks a little older than that. Most of her congregants are old enough to be her grandparents, said the 30-year-old Humphries.
But the church is also beginning to attract younger families, as well as some older Millennials who are finding out “life is easier when you don’t do it alone.” Humphries also notes the churches’ “full embrace of “queerness, attractive not only to people in the queer community but to those who may have a non-binary or trans relative or child.”
Pastoring a congregation with many older congregants is liberating in itself, Humphries said. “Building connections with them across the generational divide is healthy in a lot of ways.”
They can tell them, said Humphries, that people in their generation aren’t interested in certain things, and congregants will admit they didn’t have a clue.
“I don’t think it’s that people don’t need what we have to offer. We haven’t offered it in a way that catches people where they are,” Humphries said.
Instead of grasping frantically at every person under age 60 who wanders in (“not a great look”) Humphries welcomes them. If it turns out that Allen Avenue isn’t a good fit, Humphries tells them, perhaps they can help find one that is.”
If there is one theme that emerges from conversations with pastors on the rise — and the people with whom they partner — it’s the crucial role of partnerships and connection.
The polarized times require, Richmond said, that a lot of churches become more willing to develop relationships with people who don’t necessarily think or act like them.
But Thumma noted that their research on health and wellness suggested that those who had “outside interests, paid or volunteer, like being a chaplain or a professor at a local college, seemed to be doing better.”
It was as if, he said, having another outlet, a way of making meaning out of their lives that wasn’t tied up in the success of internal dynamics of their congregation were healthier.
“My resilience comes from the fact I don’t try to do this job alone,” Humphries said. “That’s a recipe for isolation and burnout and disaster for me personally. I ask for help multiple times a day.”
Elizabeth Eisenstadt Evans is a freelance writer whose work has appeared in Religion News Service, National Catholic Reporter, Sojourners, Christian Century, The Washington Post and Philadelphia Inquirer.