The following thoughts were presented as a homily at the church service on December 7, 2014.

The phrase “It’s an honor and a privilege to serve on this committee” has become somewhat of a cliché, I think. Except that it holds true for the Search Committee, where it has indeed been an honor and a privilege to work among such an incredible group of people on this committee and for such an incredible congregation. Truly. In fact, I feel so strongly about this, I think that if you Google the phrase “It’s been an honor and a privilege,” a photo of the Search Committee should pop up.

Expectations

I was told two things when I joined the search committee. The first is that it would be a lot of work. Of course, you can't exactly capture just how much work. Scientific research suggests that learning a new skill, such as creating complex surveys on Survey Monkey can keep an aging mind sharp and agile. Having to learn three new software programs under a severe time constraint, however, takes years off your life. But, it’s all for a good cause, right?

The second thing we were told was that we were a "plum." A plum church that was healthy, vibrant, well-regarded across the denomination. We thought our biggest challenge was going to be how we could possibly pick the best out of all the ministerial candidates beating down our door. How would we manage the flood of great candidates? How would we choose?

Well, it didn't turn out quite that way. But I do believe we are in a much, much better position to complete a search this year. First, the committee is experienced. We have a better understanding of how to go about this process. After all, this church doesn't go looking for a minister all that often. I think we were a little rusty.

Getting to know you

What I'd like to do this morning is to describe to you what this past year of search was like for me.

First, let me describe to you all what it means for us to interview a candidate. This is not your average job interview. We meet the candidate (really, pre-candidate) Friday night at a restaurant for a leisurely dinner. During the Friday evening dinner, we begin to know the candidate as a person, as a human being, and not just as a resume. It’s Friday night that this person really begins to come alive for us. Maybe a spouse comes, maybe not. Friday night is not an interview, but the start of a dialogue.

Saturday morning, we meet for breakfast. We give the candidate an opportunity to conduct a small service for us, and then we move into the interview proper. We interview the candidate and they interview us in a back and forth that has been thought-provoking, sometimes funny, always informative, and also emotional at times. It is during this interview that we probe such topics as our vision for this church, this congregation, and the wider Nashua community. We talk about theology, policy governance, church organization, goals, missions, burning embers.

We are invariably asked about how we (the church) handle conflict.

And we talk about money: how well the congregation supports the church financially and how the church allocates this money; how much to personnel, to building and grounds, to programs. Because where you spend your time and money tells people what you value. I have found that the ministers we have interviewed are very attuned to the finances of our church because it tells them so much about who we are and what we value.

During this Saturday morning conversation, we begin to get to know who this minister would be for us. We begin to form a vision of how this minister would be our minister in terms of the nuts and bolts of administration, interpersonal dynamics, the match of the particular skill set he or she brings and how that compares to what we need. We envision how this minister would support stewardship, social outreach, religious education. We imagine the ways in which this minister could become the public face of the Nashua UU church within the wider Nashua community.

After the intense Saturday morning conversation, we have lunch together, the candidate tours a bit of Nashua. We always hope we've just had a dusting of snow right before this happens! The minister is then free to spend the rest of the day on his or her own, some well-earned down time before the next day’s service.

The neutral pulpit

Sunday morning, the committee travels to the "neutral pulpit" for the Sunday service. A neutral pulpit is a church that has agreed to let the Search Committee use one of its Sundays to watch our candidate deliver an entire service. The “neutral” part comes from the fact that the church is neither this church nor the church the candidate is currently serving.

We try to get our cover stories straight prior to going to the neutral pulpit, as we're not supposed to make it obvious that we are there to observe a pre-candidate. Some on the committee are smoother than others in this regard; but I am, quite frankly, pathetic. Once, when asked where in Maine I was from, I panicked and said “Portsmouth.”

During this Sunday service, we begin to imagine this candidate as our minister in the pulpit right here. For me, I try to envision the service as I think it would be received by our congregation if given in this church. I ask myself: How deeply am I moved by this service? Have I learned anything, have I been challenged in any way? Are both my head and heart engaged? Does this individual speak to me from up in the pulpit or do I feel like I'm just being talked at?

We've learned from you all in the past two years of the importance you place on a skillfully-led Sunday service that is deeply meaningful, in terms of intellectual content and philosophical questioning, a service that causes us to question our assumptions and to think deeply about our beliefs, to help us in becoming our best selves. This is what we search for.

We have asked each minister to have a conversation with the children to gauge their comfort with this aspect of church ministry. There was one particular minister whose conversation with the children was one of the most powerful moments I've had in a church, and I've placed the moon he gave each of us by my door, so I see it every time I leave or return to the house.

We then go to coffee hour to watch interactions there. By the way, the range of welcome we received among the neutral pulpits was quite striking, from multiple warm greetings and conversations to standing there awkwardly, holding a coffee cup and continually making friendly eye contact with people who simply look away. I do so want us to be the first of these, because standing in the coffee hour of this second kind of congregation just made me want to flee.

After the service, we have lunch together again, and this is a time of reflecting back on our time together, asking the last questions. We talk about the service. And we say good-bye.

Transformation

As I mentioned earlier, this past two years have been a time for us as a congregation to ask ourselves some pretty essential questions: Who are we? What are our strengths and weaknesses? Where do we want to go as a church community — how do we envision our future?

We know this about ourselves: we have a loving community here, with members who reach out to each other during difficult times; members who step up to the plate when needed and say, “I can do that!” We place great importance on social outreach, both in terms of financial contributions and through the work of so many hands. We know this. But, I truly believe we can be so much more. I have always seen this church as a sleeping giant, poised on the edge of great things, so close to being ready to make the leap.

Of the ministers we spent neutral pulpits with, we fell in love with two of them, and I think they fell in love with us. Those weekends are simply too intense for the process to remain an intellectual examination of the match between candidate and church. And, nor should it. The stakes are too high.

With these two ministers, I could so powerfully imagine the transformational impact they could have on our church. Their capacity to minister to us, to challenge us to grow, to love us and support us was so powerful, I felt enveloped by it. It felt so real and so close to me, I could taste it. I could taste what it would be like to bring that kind of ministry here.

To be clear. These ministers were not clones of each other. They could not have been more different. One was male, one was female; one was younger, one was older; one was calm and seemed to have the wisdom of the ages, one was energetic and whipsmart. But I believe they both had the capacity to minister to our minds and hearts in a transformational way.

I also want to be clear on what I mean by transformational. I don't mean someone who will come in and change us into a congregation consistent with his or her vision of what a congregation should be. Not someone who will tell us what our theology should look like. Not a powerful, charismatic person who will change us into something we no longer recognize.

Instead, I mean someone who can create transformational opportunities for us so that we can be our best. So our church can realize the vast potential that I think still remains untapped despite all the great things we do out in the community and among ourselves. Someone who will help us walk through this life in a manner consistent, not with his or her vision, but consistent with our visions of what we want our lives to be.

This is my hope going forward as the Search Committee meets the many and varied ministers interested in serving this church. Wish us luck.

Powerful moments

I just want to end with this. Earlier, I mentioned one of the more powerful moments I've had during a church service was when I listened to one of our candidates speak with the children.

I want to share with you another profoundly powerful moment, and that occurred right here this past spring. When the committee announced that our search was incomplete and we met with members of the congregation after the church service, I fully expected to be met with tough questions about how we had managed to fail — after all, we're a plum!

Instead of questions, we received from you a wave of affirmation, concern for how we were all doing and messages of thanks and gratitude. Those sentiments went a long way to refuel us to be able to go around the block this second time. And I deeply thank you all for that.

---

We welcome your thoughts and feedback, as one of our objectives is to foster a congregational dialog about what we have experienced and learned. One way to do so is leaving a comment to this or any of the other blog posts.