Lead on Leave, Church

Imagine you work at a scrappy non-profit. The employee handbook is ancient and the Human Resources department is a crew of volunteers who meet in the basement once a month to consider personnel issues alongside the organization’s budget and vision. They are thoughtful and faithful…and aim to be out of there in 90 minutes or less.

It never seems like the right time to bring up the policy for family leave. They will wonder if you or your partner is already pregnant. It will mean more discerning eyes and ears on your adoption, surrogacy, or foster process, your mental or physical health, your expensive rollercoaster with IVF, or whether your aging parent really needs your full time help. You might have to watch them talk about your rights as their bottom line.

But here’s the rub. Your organization is rooted in values like family, wholeness, relationships, healing and abundance. They should be leading on this stuff, but they don’t know how. They haven’t needed to know how. And sometimes they don’t want to know how.

Welcome to the church! Every denomination, region and congregation handles the discussion differently. Guidelines get expanded with generosity...or completely ignored. Colleagues can be supportive or painfully silent. Lay leaders can be your biggest champions or they can make you feel guilty for having a life beyond the church parking lot.

Our congregational leaders are in part-time and full-time calls. Family leave is no longer tied to a physical recovery from giving birth to a child. We are becoming families in all variety of ways that bring clergy of all ages and genders to the table, daring to ask for what they need and hoping they are received with the spirit of the law, not the letter of the law.

My first pregnancy was a few years into my first pastoral call. The congregation did not have a parental leave policy, so it was a new adventure for all of us. We agreed that it was an opportunity to get it right from the start. I offered to research what other congregations in the area had on paper. I talked to pastor moms I admired and soaked up their advice. My senior pastor was supportive of my request to expand the conversation beyond the synod’s guidelines of “at minimum six weeks unpaid”. We agreed to eight weeks paid and managed the financial stretch by filing for short-term disability through my insurance. The congregation hosted a gorgeous baby shower, respected my personal boundaries during my leave, and cheered me on when I returned during Holy Week a bleary eyed milk machine. I felt seen and loved and enough. They were the church to me.

My second pregnancy was a few years into my second call where I was paid 3/4 time for a solo pastor position. Our annual operating budget was $200,500 that year, so I don’t have any time for congregations claiming they can’t afford a leave for their pastor. I lined up pulpit supply with a few guest preaches we paid, but mostly pastors from larger congregations that could afford to send a preacher from their usual line up and clergy who wanted to support my leave by leading for free. A retired pastor in the congregation was on call for emergencies and funerals. A seminary student and volunteers covered the Wednesday night shenanigans.

When I learned this pregnancy was twins, a shock of grief surged through my body. How in the world would I be able to say at this beautiful little church while parenting three kids under three with a husband who travels for work? The congregation’s leaders showed up in my fear with sacred assurance and the same question each time I freaked out: “How can we help?” I asked for eight weeks totally off followed by four weeks of just Sunday mornings. Actually, I didn’t ask. I just told them because I knew they would agree. I knew they would want what was best for their pastor.

The congregation threw us a diaper shower. The goal was to get enough diapers for my whole maternity leave, but they are super generous and bad at math. We didn’t purchase a single diaper until the girls were 15 months old. The day before I came back to work, the council president and treasurer, both straight white men in their sixties, picked up a mini fridge from Cost Co. for my office so I could store my breast milk and mom snacks. They sent me a picture of it set up in my office and asked if I needed a Pack N Play or a swing or anything - because they could make room. I mean, honestly.

The church has been the church for me in these moments - when I am real and vulnerable and desperate to be loved with the unconditional stuff I’m usually telling them. They recognized the different dimensions of my life, the fullness of my identity, and they knew that supporting me in parenthood would make me an even better pastor. It did. It still does. I did better, braver, kinder work because of the way they embraced the spirit of the law. I stayed longer in those calls and continue to feel connected to the ministry of both places because of the uniquely positive experience and the grace I received there.

Many organizations are using the hashtag #leadonleave to communicate that they are striving to do better when it comes to supporting families and parental leave in their policies. But I haven’t seen the church showing up in these threads. I know love stories and horror stories from clergy colleagues about this issue. I know some who, like me, would shout their experience from the rooftops with pride. And I know others who cannot safely share what has happened to their dignity, vocation, and family while being measured as liability by their congregations.

Most of these stories go untold, but telling them would help congregational leaders get creative about solutions that work for everyone involved. There’s a popular hashtag #leadonleave showing up in conversation about proactive organizations trying to support their employees. 

The church should be out front on this! Jesus cares about families and recognizes leaders as whole people. The church should too. If you have a personal story to share about church family policies, please share on social media between now and February 23, 2020 using the hashtags #leadonleave and #leadonleavechurch. If you know a colleague’s story, be sure to get their consent before sharing it for them anonymously. Let’s honor the season of Epiphany by revealing how important it is for leaders and congregations to do family leave well.