Our next interim minister, Rev. Dr. Janet Newman, refers to a third year of search as a bonus year. In an email to the search committee, she says

There is a great benefit to the congregation to have this additional time for discernment, and, at the end, celebration.

While a third year was not what your search committee envisioned, our initial disappointment has evolved to seeing this extra time as a gift we can use well.

A blur

This past year was a blur: conducting cottage meetings, reserving "neutral pulpits" for the weekends with ministerial candidates, drafting the congregational survey and analyzing the feedback, holding the Beyond Categorical Thinking workshop and understanding the results, writing a descriptive summary of the congregation (called a Congregational Record or CR), creating a web site with much the same information (yet more aesthetically appealing), working with the board to define the minister's compensation package, and drafting a ministerial agreement to propose to the candidates.

All before January 1st.

The underlying objective for this non-stop activity, our most important task: discerning and articulating who we are as a church.

Rev. Olivia challenged us with her observations as a new minister in our midst, and Rev. Olav Nieuwjaar, our Ministerial Settlement Representative, coached us to paint a realistic portrait of our community, lest potential ministers doubt our grounding and credibility.

That was tough. Like fish who can't see the water they swim in, our church's shortcomings and tensions weren't obvious.

We talked, reflected, and rewrote, publishing what may be the longest CR ever. Most important, it was honest and authentic.

From inward to outward to inward

With the arrival of the new year, our focus quickly turned outward, as we evaluated the written Ministerial Records (MRs) of many ministers, selected eight to interview, then narrowed the list to four pre-candidates. We spent a weekend with each, from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon.

During this second phase of our search, we learned even more about ourselves and Unitarian Universalism. Especially about our notions of theology and spirituality.

We worried about finding a minister who would appeal to our staunch humanists and atheists, while also ministering to those who yearned for a deeper spirituality. Were those goals mutually exclusive or intertwined?

We pondered how to judge a minister's theology, carefully scrutinizing the answer each gave to one of the stock questions in the MR.

When we asked "Tell us about your theology,"the life-long UUs responded "Unitarian Universalist." The first time, I thought it coy, perhaps a polite way for a minister to avoid disclosing her faith. After several ministers said the same, I realized this response was not a deflection. The words meant something that I wasn't grasping.

The native Unitarian Universalists do not share my experience of leaving another religion, a religion whose beliefs I no long accept, whose creed I can no longer recite or sing. Unlike me, for these born-into UUs, their theology stands alone, not in contrast to some other set of beliefs.

Aha.

Our search turned us back inward.

Did we really know what we were looking for from a minister? Was our theology settled, and we just needed to find a match? Or were were looking for someone who could take us, metaphorically, from our comfortable base camp to explore the surrounding peaks?

Back to the journey

We were told by several in UU circles that the Nashua church is seen as a "plum." So we expected that we would draw interest. Yet we were humbled by the number of ministers who reached out to us.

We found the MRs, as thorough and detailed as they were, didn't always correlate with our subsequent impressions. The minister with the strongest credentials just didn't click. And the MR from one of our top candidates didn't stand out. If not for the entreaty from a lone voice on the committee, we would not have invited him to a Skype call.

All four of our pre-candidates were strong ministers, with much to offer. Two really captured our hearts and imaginations. Either one would have transformed our church. We struggled to choose between them, to pick our #1. Those discussions tested our ability to listen deeply to each other, to maintain good will, and to reach a consensus.

Then both turned us down.

Grief and heartbreak might be a bit overstated, yet we felt both.

If there were any consolation in being second choice, it was knowing that both of our top candidates struggled with the decision of which call to accept, which church to serve. Each thought we offered wonderful possibilities. They had no concerns about our "growing edges" (how ministers refer to one's developmental needs).

Bad luck is how we have characterized the outcome. We couldn't think of anything we would have done differently as a search committee, either with our process or how we presented our beloved community.

Determinedly, we moved into the second round. Again, good, solid ministers expressed interest. But we didn't connect like we had before. We were hesitant to engage, still feeling the pain of our losses. It's fortunate that we didn't have to make a selection.

Now what?

After such a long, cold winter, we look forward to the warmth and long days of summer, with time for rest and reflection, for recharging our batteries.

We feel as though we are back home after a long journey. We return changed. We have grown.

With the gift of this unexpected pause, we want to share our ahas, the insights from the past year. We learned so much: what Unitarian Universalism looks like outside our church; what ministry is; who we are as a church community; how we might deepen spiritually, as individuals and as a congregation; other areas we need to tend to, if we are to realize the potential we all see.

We hope you will be enlightened as we share our stories. Watch this blog for updates. And share your thoughts. We'd love to have a conversation.

Gary Lerude