It’s Pronounced “Relationship(nda),” the NDA is Silent

When Church Relationships Rely On Corporate America

Oh, how the devil loves to slither around in the details.

Who here has sipped away an afternoon of Earl Grey tea while doing some light reading through the entirety of the terms and conditions of your new subscription contract? If so, there’s a new position open down in accounting starting Wednesday. But for the rest of us commoners, either agree to it, or you’ve just wasted $99.99. However, if scrolling through the legal jargon of Amazon leaves you craving more, add Robert’s Rules of Order to your list. It’s a real page-turner.

Didn’t you just hate that kid who barely studied for the exam and ends up acing it, while you’re slumped over a desk, postulating how many different words you can spell with the multiple-choice letters on a #2 pencil. Some people just test well, some don’t. This will manifest itself later in life when asked what your greatest strengths and woefully short weaknesses are. You chiseled yourself onto a resume as though Michelangelo was called in for a consult and now you must back it up in person. You’re peppered with situational hypotheticals like, “If the copier malfunctions and no one is there to throw it out the window, did it actually malfunction?” Or “Your boss is a moron, do you address it, tell others, or let it stew in the pot of resentment as your soul slowly turns to ash in a cubicle over the next 30 years?”

You hear the hammers and nail guns rattling around in your head as you attempt to craft a coherent thought. What exits the oxygen intake hole are thought fragments resembling the “Puppy Who Lost His Way” speech from Billy Madison as the interviewer scribbles down some constructive thoughts on a piece of paper with a blank stare. Keep it up, it’s going great.

On another track (Yes, this article is a little ADHD today), have you ever struck out in slow-pitch church league softball game? It happens to the best of us. That giant stitched ball, lobbed softly into the air on three separate occasions, followed by the walk of shame as you sulk into the dugout with your chiropractor on speed dial. Their resume was flawless. It was filled with B.A.’s and M.S.’s from the right institutions with a flowing work history and glowing references. They were a ‘can’t-miss’ and now security is leading them out of the building. Maybe the real whiff was that kid who could barely sputter out a sentence.

You’d expect these two scenarios in corporate America, but this plays out under steeples everywhere. Job descriptions post daily of churches looking for the right candidates for specific positions filled with lingo that sounds ‘churchy’ but smells ‘corporate.’ What began as a calling at an altar now reads a lot like a job you could get at your neighborhood manufacturing giant.

Relationships and corporate style job interviews don’t mix. Let the whiffing commence. Relationships are built over time, not in an interview room over hypotheticals.

The art of mentoring is an extinct species. We hire for the now. We want results now. We want plug-n-play. You won’t be considered if you don’t match a certain criteria and wow someone in an interview. That’s how most church staff relationships begin. The starting line of the relationship is performance based, in institutions touting relationship with Jesus, one another, and “Come as you are” through a microphone. The façade of relationship peels away as the discrepancies between resumes, job descriptions, and reality erode in the daily grind of ministry. When the masks come off, the ugly comes out and the cards are finally on the table of what this relationship ever was . When the expectation was 250 teens in the youth ministry and you’re running 125 three years later, is when the details come creeping out. That’s when the rubber meets the road of those pastoral bonds.

Walking alongside someone as they grow in their ministry is like potty training a puppy. It needs constant attention, consistent guidance, and cheering like crazy when they poop outside. It’s easier to buy that fully trained dog, but you’ll never build that bond only attained from training a puppy. It’s hard. It takes work. It’s messy. Then one day you look at that little pup and can’t imagine your life without it. That’s relationship and severing it would be excruciating. Resumes are the Windex of job descriptions, which explain why no one would ever want to own a puppy.

It’s easier to fire someone you never really knew who didn’t meet expectations, than to part ways with someone you went on vacation with and appear in your family photos.

It’s why we do it. Specifics let us off the hook of relationships. It lets you cut ties with a scalpel rather than a chainsaw. You don’t have to invest relational capital in something that should already be trained. The more details you sneak into pastoral descriptions, the easier it is to let them off the leash when it doesn’t seem to be working out. It’s easier to rip band-aids off wounds that don’t go very deep.

This is why the church is filled with lost puppies.

No one likes interviewing naked and Photoshop should never be used for profile pics on churchstaffing.com. Both sides put their best foot forward on that first date. The church shows a little ankle, and the candidate buttons up their rented tuxedo unaware of what cufflinks are. They don’t talk about the split, or the pastor before them who was abruptly let go and that tux distracts from asking why they’ve been in seven churches in the last five years. And that’s how the relationship begins. When the foundation is fake, the relationship is never real.

If those deep pastoral bonds end in an NDA, the grip was never that tight to begin with.

You took the time to read all the way to the bottom, thank you! Writing about the church is my passion. I’m creating more content soon and if this is a ministry you’d like to partner with moving forward, please donate any amount by clicking the button below. Again, Thank you!

Want to be alerted when more content is released? Click the subscribe button below.