Senior pastors may or may not work “more” than Associates. I think that’s a case by case basis. But they do have more “buck stops here” responsibilities. And generally, that level of responsibility is compensated. And I totally don’t mind that.

It’s when cost of living is on a flat percentage basis that associates and seniors widen so much that the associate positions become, at times, untenable.

And isn’t that just a rationale for accepting workaholism as a virtue to be rewarded? So we pay Pastor X oodles more money because she works 80 hours a week yet has no self-care skills, and we pay Pastor Y much less, even though she is modeling a better way of being and, in fact, may actually be more effective for the 50 or whatever hours she does work. (Because I firmly agree with Roy Oswald of the Alban Institute who says that pastors cannot work more than 50 hours a week, week in and week out, without their job and mental health suffering.)

I know that “more = better” is the way many industries work—indeed, our economic system in the states seems to be built on it. I’m questioning whether that should be the church’s witness.

As for why the fuss over compensation “if somehow the jobs are different in terms of responsibility and expectations” — I don’t expect ever to make the same as Senior Pastor. That would fail to acknowledge both her role and her years of experience. But I also don’t think that percentage increases are at all just. I actually lose ground every year in comparison to her; in other words, the (relative) rich get (relatively) richer and the (relative) poor get (relatively) poorer.

For that reason, I think call has everything to do with the discussion. If I feel a call to be an associate, and the church takes seriously the vow it took to “pay me fairly,” I would hope to be able to continue here as long as I feel called, rather than feel like I need to seek a senior position because that’s what it takes to advance financially as my skills and experience advance.

God, family, church. Of course our priorities should be consistent, though I would say we serve God *by* nurturing ourselves, our family and our church. And as sherry and others attest, God really does provide. But that sentiment can quickly devolve into “we can live on love!” theology, which is all well and good, but sometimes God provides by giving us the assertiveness to say, “You are not paying me fairly. I am worth more.”

Another thing - what’s missing in this discussion is the role of call. If you are called by God into a ministry - of whatever shape and form, then the world’s definition of success or how you imagined your life working out becomes less important, doesn’t it?

My priorities remain the same - no matter where I serve: God, family, church - in that order.

Finally, what a wonder the internet is - it allows us to form community and enter into conversation without ever revealing who we really are. Now that’s a theological quandry - isn’t it?

And I think this would work very well in a church setting, too. Whatever the Presbytery’s minimum salary is that year (and it does go up usually), is the base salary for all the clergy, and then the “merit/experience” bonuses go on top of that. Then you could raise the merit/experience category at a similar rate —say 5%, but still maintain a base salary that is AT LEAST the minimum for the P’y. Or whatever your church thinks is fair.

Though this wasn’t part of the official presbytery policy, one suggestion was to give each staff person a flat amount as a raise, then a small percentage on top of that. Which I think makes a lot of sense.

When I was on session, I remember doing the first approval of pastor’s compensation packages, and we had a senior and an associate pastor. And the senior’s housing allowance was higher than the associate’s–and I protested it and got it changed. I felt like it cost the same to live in that town whether you were senior or associate, and the salary should be the only distinguishing thing–although even then (I was 19), I realized that Pastor S (associate) had 10 years of experience and Pastor C (senior) had 12, and I couldn’t figure out why their salaries were so different. (And I now realize that pastors sometimes choose to have bigger or smaller HAs. But when we equalized the HAs, it meant that the associate could afford some things for his house that he had not previously been able to afford—a cleaning service, for one, one that was a godsend in a house with 4 young boys.)

Bottom line: I think our ministerial culture creates this. And it starts with money.

Crickets chirped.

A tumbleweed blew by.

And I, who make about 2/3 of what my head of staff does, even though milk costs us both the same, and I’m buying more of it—and don’t get me started on the cost of a house in NoVA in 1983 as opposed to 2003—wanted to applaud.

What would it look like if money was not part of the equation? What would it look like if title was not part of the equation? What if everyone’s title was pastor and everyone was paid relatively the same (adjusting for cost of living and experience, maybe.)

I feel like we have all (myself included, ask me how much I like being an ASSISTANT chaplain after being a solo chaplain) have gotten sucked into the markers of the world: title and money. And I wonder how many of us really WANT bigger or more prominent, and how many of us just really want more money? If you’re seeing a finger pointing, it’s pointing at me, not you.

I was once in conversation with a retired superintendent of a large city school district. He certainly would define himself as ambitious. He commented to me that after three years or so at my small, struggling, blue-collar church, that I could “write my own ticket.” The question for me is, do I want to write my own ticket?

In my life, the answer is no. I’m happy where I’m at. More importantly, I really sense that I’m being faithful to the God who called me here. That’s the thing for me: it’s a question of why I would want to go to a 1,000 member, 500 member, or even a 100 member church. Do I want to go for my own ego, to feel vindicated in my ministry, or even just to have more stability than constantly looking at the budget and determining if my church can meet minimum salary requirements for next year? Or do I see how God can work through me and use me in a particular church of whatever size?

Good luck and good providence to all of you who are looking for calls. I pray that one day churches will be able to see the vocation of each of you, rather than something else.

Here I have been reading this conversation and marveling at its particularity—how there have been few, if any, generalities, no “shoulds” whatsoever. Any sweeping statements I’ve seen refer more to the “system” in which we find ourselves rather than particular choices.

People are speaking out of their experiences, and I like that. I feel like this is exactly the kind of conversation we need to have. I have learned a lot because people haven’t pontificated; they have spoken from where they are. And we are not all in the same place.

Now I learn that you, Songbird, have been reading this conversation as a judgment on you and your values. Please show me exactly where that has taken place.

Because frankly, I don’t see it.