COLLAPSING GROUND

A few people have asked how my job is going. I honestly haven't been able to answer. Have I had my head buried under the blankets? Not been able to think for all the rumbling beneath my feet? Just been unable to put my fear and trembling into words? Probably all of these and more. I am not actually sure I can do it now.

Things seem one way. People say they are one way. This piece and that piece might not fit together quite right. Then, you realized that the reality is not at all what you have been led to expect.

I think I am finally beginning to understand why.

To recap: The two Catholic parishes in my city will be merged.....as of July 1. Forget that one has prided itself on being traditional and orthodox, the other on being accepting of all people and ideas. (I hope that is a good way to put it - obviously, I am with the first parish described.) We underwent at least nine months wondering if we'd have a job. Interviews were held. I eventually found out that I was hired for my own position. In fact, with one exception, all of the full-time staff was kept. But, some inner voice told me not to rejoice too heartily. The situation was too uneasy. (Even disregarding the caveat that though all full-time staff were re-hired....it was only for a year. Another year of anxiety to face.)

The biggest immediate blow was that it was only full-time people that were retained. I have always chosen to divide my "full-time" assistant position into two part-time people. Because the pay is pretty low, that has allowed me to always have two assistants who are educated, mission-driven, capable, enthusiastic people. (Stand up and take a bow, Jen! One of my former assistants is now a blog-friend.) Usually my assistants have been moms who have found this part-time job with flexible hours precisely what they want. And they have been friends, too, not just employees but supporters. This has made my job really wonderful for all these years. No more. I'll have a ten-hour a week intern. I think that is as much like another responsibility as actual help.

And then - my other colleagues began dropping like fleas. Or, is the image more rats fleeing a sinking ship? Not long after the announcement was made, our parish administrator (Lydia's godfather) "retired". He was offered a more suitable part-time job with the diocese. Then the principal, who had become a really valued colleague, announced that her husband was offered a new position and they would be moving. (He had a standing offer to take this position....but they'd stayed because of her job.) The people who had been music ministers here for over 35 years were given their walking papers. We were already losing our pastor. The sense of loss and unease grew.

Then my closest colleague, the man I have shared a building with for twenty-four years, decided that things were too uncomfortable for him, too....that he'd rather "risk it" on retirement and the hope of some part time work, than take the stress.

This leaves me, and one woman over in the parish office, as the only pastoral staff remaining from our parish.....the pastor and all the staff from the "other" parish are moving in here. Yes; it feels uncomfortable. But it is more than just staffing.

I think I've finally figured it out. In my time here, we have had three different pastors, and an interim pastor. It has been relatively easy transitioning from one to the other. But, the situation was completely different. HE was coming into "our" place. The pastor was stepping in to manage a ship that was running smoothly. When he found things he didn't like, they might be changed over time, incrementally. The presumption has always been that we are doing our jobs well...carry on. This time, the pastor is already administering half the parish....and he has been there long enough to get things there precisely as he wants them. Of course, he now expects to get this "other" half of the parish "in line".

So, the names by which we've called things for all these years must be changed. The registration procedures that I have perfected over all these years so that they work just the way I need them to work - must be changed. I understand how he feels. If I were him, I'd be just the same. But I am also beginning to understand that I didn't keep "my" job - I got a new one. That just looks like my old one. My sense of being capable and qualified, respected for how I do my work - all gone. I am feeling very uneasy.