THE theory of clergy work/life balance is on every diocesan website, and plenty of others besides, discussed at length from all viewpoints. The general conclusion today appears to be that a 48-hour week is about right, plus a bit more if you happen to are going to be very conscientious, with one 24-hour period every week not working, and perhaps an additional time off a month — all this, wrapped in language that makes it plain that it’s as much as the person to take responsibility for their very own health and well-being.
So much for the speculation; but what in regards to the reality of life in a parish, where the each day torrent of emails, phone calls, diocesan directives, pastoral demands, and private challenges threatens to beat the hapless priest, submerging them beneath a tide of operational activities? Only a lone hand is left above the waves, holding aloft a small white piece of plastic, the symbol of their calling, hoping that they will get to the shore of annual leave before they drown.
This is exaggeration, perhaps, but probably a sense that few have escaped no less than a while of their lives — a state of “overwhelm” which I even have actually experienced and like to stay clear of, if in any respect possible. The pastoral calls made upon us, nevertheless, the late nights spent crafting sermons or creating props for family-friendly services, the early waking hours reflecting on church funds, or the stomach-sinking safeguarding issues — these are all a part of the priest’s each day lot. A technique that allows us not only to survive, but to thrive, should be worked out if we’re to stay as parish clergy for any length of time.
FOR me, it begins with throwing out the term “work/life balance”. Personally, I cannot distinguish between “work” and “life”, probably not being sure what either of those terms actually means. A “work/life balance” seems quite precarious, implying someway the constant risk of overbalancing either a technique or one other, seesaw-fashion. Better, perhaps, to aim for a rhythm of life: less constricting than a “rule”, able to face up to the ebb and flow of human existence in a grace-filled way that, when all of it comes unstuck, offers forgiveness each for self and for others.
As office-holders, we’ve the privilege of having the ability to craft our own timetables — be happy to do that. Do not be bullied by the overwork of some clergy, or the depressing apathy of others, but discover a rhythm of life which suits you. If you flourish by having a fastidiously worked-out timetable, with set days off and a standard pattern of “two sessions out of three”, then achieve this. If your life is less structured then that’s fantastic, too.
Some kinds of work make me feel totally alive — many are the views from a hilltop joyfully entitled “counts as work” which I even have irritatingly circulated amongst family and friends, as I explore recent pilgrim trails for village churches. Other work, including every type of administration and anything to do with church monuments, drains me utterly.
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And what’s “life”? The weekly, bad-tempered storming around the house with a vacuum cleaner, or the family picnic within the woods? And what will we do in regards to the things in between: shopping in our local town, fêtes, concert events, Messy Church, collecting children from the college at which we’re a governor, visiting churches on holiday and seeing something that we could do in ours?
How do I calculate working hours, once I work at home? Do I knock ten minutes off my imaginary timesheet each time I stop to alter the washing over? Where does peeling potatoes are available, if I’m also considering what to say about Paul’s attitude to women? I’m individual, priest, wife, mother, grandmother, at all times, on a regular basis.
SO, WHERE to start out? Probably with where you desire to end: are you on this for the long run? Do you desire to establish a sustainable lifestyle which can enrich each you and people around you? What does a “glad life” seem like for you?
Next, you most likely should work out the priorities, not only for you, but for those you take care of, and on your community. Try to have some conversations and do some serious reflection around these, as often the things that you’re thinking that are a priority won’t seem so crucial to those around you. Balancing your requirements with the necessities of others takes skill — and, sometimes, a specific amount of ruthlessness.
Be honest with yourself about yourself: establish when is one of the best time so that you can do tasks which might be draining, as opposed to those who sustain you — whichever area of life they fall into. Be realistic about your guilt: parish work, like parenting, is never-ending, and you may never do it well enough. Don’t ignore the guilt altogether, nevertheless, as sometimes essentially the most diligent of us needs a spur to attack “heart-sink” tasks, and guilt is nearly as good a spur as anything.
Try to make time to do the stuff you enjoy, in addition to the things that you simply don’t: activities that leave you joyful or rested, energised or satisfied. Leave space for dreaming; for it’s in dreams that God speaks.
COUNTING hours or not: it’s as much as each one among us. But our goals are the identical: to have Christ as “the pattern of our calling”, and to sustain our communities, “that all of us may grow into the fullness of Christ and be a living sacrifice acceptable to God”.
How to try this? St Thérèse of Lisieux probably has one of the best answer: “My vocation is love. In the guts of the Church, my mother, I might be love, after which I might be all things.”
The Revd Sally Welch is Rector of the Kington Group within the diocese of Hereford.
