Bivocational Ministry: Let's Think Twice

I'll admit my bias up front. My father has been a full-time minister all his life, and it looks like I will do the same. Which means that, except for one very difficult year when I tried to be a professional musician, I will never know any reality except financial dependence on the church. In some ways, this explains my uneasiness with all the talk lately about bivocational ministry.

Bivocational ministry is simply when a pastor holds a job outside the church to help pay the bills. It's not a new concept, and in fact it's been the norm for most of Protestant history. But it is a new and scary concept to many in today's mainline churches. We've grown accustomed to career clergy and to paying them well enough to be the sole support for middle class families.

As economic stagnation and the decline of the church in America have become realities, this assumption of professional clergy is changing. Many congregations that once afforded a well-paid full-time minister are now going the bivocational route. Others are joining up with neighboring churches for a "yoked" parish that usually pays the bare minimum to an overworked minister. What this means is that fewer pastors can now afford to support a middle class family.

But that's not necessarily a bad thing. As I have discussed this issue with my friends and colleagues, there have been strong points made both for and against the shift to bivocational ministry. So I will try to set my personal bias aside, and present an even-handed look at the pros and cons.

Pro: Resources once used for salary and benefits for the pastor can now be shifted to ministries. If I went to half my salary and no benefits, it would save my church about $40,000 - no small chunk of change!

Con: At least in the wealthier denominations like my PCUSA, lack of resources is not the issue. Regional and national governing bodies could, if they desired, make sure that all but the smallest churches have full-time clergy. The fact that many small churches are struggling to afford a pastor is more a reflection of our polity and our attitudes than our poverty. One could even make the argument that the church is reflecting society with issues of stratification of wealth.

Pro: Bivocational ministry reduces the gap between clergy and laity. One of the central problem of the 20th-century church is that it became clergy-centric. Ministers gained too much power and influence, while the people in the pews became passive and disinterested. Having a minister who is out there in the world scratching for a living like everyone else puts us on a more level playing field, and it allows for greater investment of lay people in leading the church.

Con: A minister who is not financially dependent on his position will tend to favor the job he depends on. For example, what happens when there needs to be a funeral on a Tuesday, but the minister can't get away from his day job? More to the point, will a minister trying to split her loyalties between family, church, and her other job be able to bring as much energy and passion on a daily basis as one who is fully committed to the church? Will the sermon be an afterthought thrown together on a Saturday afternoon, instead of something wrestled with and refined over a week full of pastoring?

Pro: Not being financially dependent on ministry removes much of the temptation toward careerism. One of the most salient criticisms of pastors is that they care more about "climbing the ladder" and landing a big-steeple church than serving God. A bivocational minister can joyfully serve whatever congregation they are called to without having to balance tough decisions about family financial needs.

Con: Being a pastor who has to balance those financial needs is an important part of spiritual growth. The people in the pews constantly wrestle with questions of faith, financial insecurity, and how to balance the selfish desire for career success with how to live a Christian life. Why should pastors be exempted from the temptation of careerism? As pastors struggle with it, they can better minister to parishioners who struggle with it.

Pro: Congregations have different expectations of full-time pastors. Every full-time minister has felt the pressure to perform in a certain way because the church invests so much in them. Pastors that earn a modest part-time salary enjoy more freedom to speak prophetically and to lead in ways that church members might not desire.

Con: Being financially dependent on the congregation gives the pastor accountability. There are many unpleasant aspects of ministry that can easily be discounted if one doesn't feel that pressure of, "This is my job, I have to do it." Full-time accountability also helps balance the power between clergy and laity, as that financial tether is sometimes the only thing that prevents a pastor from heading in a direction that the church might not be ready for.

There are more pros and cons, but those are the ones I feel are most relevant. We need to carefully consider these points before we go too much further down this road.

My central concern is that bivocational is becoming a trend because of economic reasons, not missional ones, and that we are not carefully considering the consequences. These decisions are being made at the congregational level as churches struggle with the painful reality of budgets that no longer allow for the cost of a full-time pastor. Letting go of this is often more difficult than the decision to close the doors altogether, and we shouldn't take lightly what this shift does to the psychology of a congregation.

I hope we can be more intentional at the higher levels of the church to decide with intention whether bivocational ministry is what is best for the body in the long run.

A More Intentional Online Community

As I emerge from my annual Twitter rant about how skewed our celebration of Labor Day has become, I am struck by the example of the Clapham Circle. Working about 200 years ago in England, they were a close-knit group of social justice activists led by William Wilberforce.

The Clapham Circle lived in close community about six miles outside of London, and they lived and breathed efforts to improve the lives of the poor and oppressed. They achieved the end of the British Slave trade, better conditions for the working class, and even the first animal humane society.

As I consider their amazing accomplishments, I wonder if justice-minded people of faith today need to emulate their commitment to community - to intentional, comprehensive community that goes deeper than sharing a common cause. 

There are countless organizations working for the poor and the working class today, and those that are focused on local issues seem to be quite successful. This is because these groups don't just talk about the issues together. They go to church together. They raise their families together. They are with one another for baptisms, weddings, and funerals. In short, their lives are shared in all dimensions, not just on political and social activism.

There are also countless networks and groups working for justice on the larger issues, as the Clapham Circld did. But in my experience, these groups are more fractured and haphazard. There are conferences to attend, and online conversations to join - but the wholistic closeness of the local group is not there. At times, it can be hard to tell who is really part of a community and who is not, and even how to define the parameters and goals of online groups that form in such undefined ways.

Several times, I have seen plans for ambitious justice movements get hatched in such communities, only to find they never come to fruition because of overriding commitments in our local communities. Certainly this barrier to launching effective campaigns such as the Clapham Circle did has existed throughout history - but it seems the nature of online communication is intensifying the challenge. Perhaps a little more intentionality to organize will help us get over this hump.

Obviously, living in the same geographic space and making forays into the nearby halls of power is no longer the way to organize for justice - or maybe it still is? Who knows? But we are in new territory here, and we need to find ways to foster that wholistic sharing of our lives - not just our social and political convictions.

How that is best done, I cannot say. There are some online groups who are being intentional about taking their fellowship to a more personal level, who are beginning to act more like a church family than a professional organization. My hope is that we can continue to build our relationships beyond where they are today, and that we can think creatively and purposefully about this powerful new tool for connecting that we possess.