Aim High, Shoot Low

We are in the midst of the beginning of lots of change in our Archdiocese. I have no idea where I'll be, or what our parish will look like, five years from now. But at least, we're trying to be proactive and do some planning, be transparent and honest, and think big about the possibilities. I'm reading up on pastoral planning and trying to fill my toolbox. In all the leadership books I read, they talk about successful organizations being willing to try new things, to think "outside the box," to be willing to fail and learn and change courses when things aren't working.
I'm cool with that. I want to try new things at the parish, and I'm pretty comfortable with re-do's. I think it's a matter of attitudes, a matter of looking differently at same-old situations. Maybe it's because I'm the youngest kid in my family that I quickly get annoyed at hearing that my ideas won't work, couldn't work, before we get to even give things a try. I've been hearing it since I was little. But hey, maybe that's the life of an innovator.
A couple of years back I started urging the staff at our parish to stop assuming the worst of our parishioners. I wanted us all to stop saying things like "they won't understand" or "no one will come to that" or "that's too serious/deep/traditional/etc. for our people." I wanted us to start saying things like "let's try it, and see who comes" and assuming that our people were faith-filled, wanted to know God and grow in their faith. It was a HARD habit to break, and lately we've begun to fall back into old habits of assuming our people are shallow and half-hearted.
But I'm starting to realize I'm as guilty as my co-workers. As a youth minister, my default position with teenagers was that they didn't know much about the faith, that they were doubters- seekers, but doubters- and that they needed convincing. It's a much more comfortable position to be in as a teacher, where you know more and are more secure than your students. Working with adults, I'm afraid I've kept starting from that default position, assuming the groups I work with are illiterate about the faith. But the fact is, most of the parents in my GOF group are very faithful people, with a real dedication to the Church and to their family's faith. I'm just starting to realize that I need to teach to those people in my groups, rather than shooting for the lowest levels and trying to convince. What does that kind of teaching look like? I'm not so sure... but it's something I want to think about more.
As we begin this scary pastoral planning process, I want us all to go in assuming the best of our people- not to say "this won't work" or "they won't want to do this" but instead, thinking about how this church of people can become better evangelizers, more faithful, grow stronger and go deeper.

At the Crossroads

I am in a tricky spot these days. Our diocese is about to undertake a huge reorganization of parishes (still in the consultant phase) which is meant to cut the number of pastors in half, reduce the number of extraneous pieces of real estate, join parishes together in fundraising and Mass attendance, and reduce redundancies (aka... STAFF!). Suddenly a large part of my job is getting the word out about these plans (much more to it than I'm listing here) to our parishioners and gather feedback. So I find myself in this weird position of trying to communicate the possible future to people, all the while knowing that possible future might mean that my job is gone.
On top of that, last night in a meeting at the parish someone mentioned the conscience laws that are being challenged by the president, which would insist that all companies (except church/parishes) would have to provide insurance coverage for contraception. Already the law change would not apply to me or my fellow co-workers, and honestly I don't even know anyone who would want that kind of coverage from the parish for whom they work. But this week, the Cardinal published a letter with a threat included that if the law passes, the Church will be forced to either go against their own conscience or to STOP PROVIDING HEALTH INSURANCE TO ITS EMPLOYEES.
Remember, this rule already doesn't apply to me and my colleagues. In Fact, Cardinal Sean's threat is empty: it's against the law for Massachusetts citizens to go without health insurance, so if the Church doesn't provide it, its employees will have to turn to another source. By law, of course, any alternative source will have to cover things like contraception. Far from barring his employees from contraceptive coverage, Cardinal Sean will be forcing it upon us.
To me, it's a clear sign that the Cardinal doesn't trust that his employees, even if offered this benefit, wouldn't necessarily use it. (Of course, he's probably right about that!) And it's also a sign that he doesn't have any confidence in his ability to persuade his employees to do the right thing through teaching the Truth of the faith. He doesn't believe that what the Church teaches about contraception will bear any weight, and he doesn't believe that his word has any weight. He is only able to find persuasive power in threats. If he's right about that, then we are indeed in bad shape.
My husband and I will not be able to pay for our own health insurance, and will have to end our ministries in the Church. In fact, I don't know anyone who works for a parish who could pay for their own insurance for the rest of their ministerial careers.
So last night, there I was leading a parish meeting when this bill was brought up, and the parishioner who mentioned it urged us all to contact our representatives. Was it wrong for me to mention the Cardinal's threat? Or to urge them that while they're contacting the government, they might also call the Cardinal's office and remind him how wrong it would be to cancel the insurance and therefore the ministries of the employees who sat before them?
I don't know. I am not sure what my right response is to all this. And I do want to do what's right. If I'm going to lose this job, I want to leave it having fought for justice. I don't want to bite my tongue to keep my job, like I have done in varying degrees for so long. I want to do the Lord's work. I know that in this archdiocese, it's risky even blogging about this, exposing my own opinions. I guess we'll (pray) what happens.