THE CARE AND FEEDING OF THE AMERICAN PASTOR

"Our new rabbi," intoned Mrs. Horowitz, "has all the qualities of Moses, Shakespeare and a Heavenly Angel."

"Really?" Mrs. Fligelman was in disbelief of her luncheon partner's magnanimity.
"To you I wouldn't lie," Mrs. Horowitz responded. "Like Moses, he stammers. Like Shakespeare, he cannot read a word of Hebrew. And, like a Heavenly Angel, he, too, is not a human being!"

I have been there: 23 years of sometimes accolades, sometimes condemnation, sometimes condemnation-dressed-up-as-accolades. I have also been privy to six years as a layperson on the other side of the pulpit, and – with questionable wisdom – I have jumped in the quicksand again, pastoring an intrepid congregational flock.

Moving into the rabbinate, I was a know-it-all kid with a new chemistry set. Leaving the rabbinate and moving into the pews, I learned a new sense of empathy - and occasionally, sympathy - for the folks who inhabit both sides of the pulpit – neither side ever fully understanding, much less appreciating, the foibles and aspirations of the other.
So, indulge me, please, in offering a few unsolicited pew-side observations on things that congregants can do to make their pastor's life more livable:

BANISH THE “E-WORD” – As hungry as they are for praise, most pastors hear something hollow when you tell them that you have "enjoyed" their sermons. Their purpose is to challenge, to stimulate, to teach, to provoke, to prick the conscience. They will tell you that if in the process they have also entertained, so much the better. But, most pastors shrink at the intimation that their words are so insipid that the best they can do is make their parishioners "feel good." If you want to say the right thing, tell your pastor that you were inspired, or enlightened, or motivated by -the day's sermon . . . or not. Just do not lead with "enjoy."

JUST THE BASIC AMENITIES – How it got into our heads that pastors are undeserving of a simple "please" and "thank you," I will never know. Too many congregants treat their pastors with disregard that borders on contempt, begrudging them the basic courtesy they'd second- naturedly extend to any waitress or janitor. Honest, hard-working pastors – who are in the overwhelming majority – deserve elementary, day-to-day niceness from their flock, if only to vaguely offset the nitpicking criticism to which they are routinely subjected.

My late parents' former rabbi is a decent, dedicated man who presided over a congregation that never showed him a moment's gratitude. My mother could never figure out why after 15 years he scheduled a special stopover to visit them the last time that he came East. "It's because you’re the only people in 25 years who bothered to say 'thank you' to him," I told her. And she knew that I was right.

PASTORS NEED THEIR ADVOCATES - If you do not like your pastor, do not read this section. If you do like him or her, learn that "liking" may not be enough. Parishioners who really care will be their pastor's advocates.

How? First, they will stand up for him or her in a fight. Every pastor will have his detractors, and every pastor will now and again step in a pile of cow chips. When he's called to account, or when one of the local busybodies spreads nastiness about him, what is likely to happen? Friends who are either too cowardly or too indifferent to say a word in his defense typically leave the pastor to twist slowly in the wind. Someone recently reported that he was “horrified” that another congregant was repeatedly “trash-talking” about me. “What did you answer?” I asked. “Er, uh.” I suggested: “I don’t know whether you are right or wrong, but I just refuse to listen to that garbage any more.” Do not abandon your pastor when the critics declare open season.

CHERISH FALLIBILITY - As a rule, pastors have expansive egos. Laypeople usually do not help. They expect perfection from the pastor and grouse at anything less. (A friend once told me of his congregation, "They want the Messiah, but if he came, they'd gripe that he was too religious!") It is a set-up for disillusionment, burnout, failure.

I am convinced that the best pastors are those who preach, teach and serve as moral exemplars out a humble sense of their own imperfection. How can parishioners help? By creating an atmosphere in which the pastor's fallibility is cherished, not cause for removal. His sermons will not always be masterpieces. He will occasionally forget to visit someone in the hospital or to return a phone call. He will make mistakes, act foolishly and sometimes say something stupid or offensive. He will occasionally be short and cranky, even angry. He will bring baggage from home to the office, just as you do.

Be slow to criticize and quick to forgive. Let it be known that both sides of the pulpit gain incalculably more by being at home with the pastor's humanity than by seeking leadership that reeks of self-righteousness. This does not mean that we should guarantee every pastor life tenure. Sometimes the fit is just no good, and some improprieties are cause for instant dismissal or resignation. But, for every pastor who deserves to be fired, there are a hundred who are sinking in quicksand simply because they are being held to a standard to which none of their critics could ever attain.

Having now spent four years back in the ministry, I feel no cynicism toward the calling. If anything, I am even more sobered by the magnitude and urgency of the task. It is all too hard to succeed, all too easy to fail. The men and women who inhabit the pulpit need honorable folks to occupy their pews, if they are to persevere and we are to be spared from religion that is long on glitz and egotism, and woefully short on spirit and basic human decency.