The Slice: Take this job and bless it

Looking back on my meteoric career as a church leader, I have to admit I ignored a couple of omens.

First, the guy who encouraged me to run for a seat on our congregation’s governing board is a psychiatrist. Trained to spot mental illness, he must have known I would say OK.

And when I later found myself in the position of No. 1 lay honcho, I should have taken more careful note of the fact that my official title was “warden.” (The inmates, as they say, were restless.)

This all happened just a few years ago. It seems like another lifetime.

After being elected to the board, I was placed in charge of an endowed scholarship program. This proved to be an excellent opportunity to make enemies. I like to think I made the most of it.

If you have heard that parents behave less than charmingly when their kids don’t get enough playing time in soccer games, you ought to see how they act when money is involved.

Then I became board secretary, a member of the church’s executive committee. That meant more meetings and it required me to record the minutes of the monthly board sessions. Suddenly I had 18 additional editors in my life.

But all that was OK. My wife and I had been going to this church for years. I was happy to help. Moreover, I truly enjoyed the company of many of the people with whom I dealt.

I was aware, of course, that when you get involved behind the scenes at just about any church, you run the risk of seeing the sausage getting made, so to speak. You know, the preoccupation with money, the petty squabbles, the performance piety of mean-spirited gasbags, et cetera.

I thought I was ready for it.

Then a retired corporate CEO who was the head of the governing board got fed up and quit.

I agreed to step into that role on the condition that I could resign once our crisis of the moment got resolved.

Suddenly I was a complaint magnet. I received calls at home and at the paper about everything from the choir needing new robes to power struggles in the church kitchen.

One woman stopped me on the street to note mistakes of grammar in the weekly newsletter. The list goes on and on.

But our church’s overriding obsession was the politics surrounding the pastor. Should he stay or should he go? We had it all – warring factions, clandestine cabals, threats, bullying and lots and lots of arguing.

Lord, it was ugly. And I was pinned down by the crossfire.

To be honest, several of my decisions undoubtedly made a bad situation worse.

For me, though, one odd thing about being near the center of all this was the simple fact that I’m not really all that religious. It’s a long story. Inevitably, though, I found myself asking, “What am I doing here?”

After Pastorgate pretty much played itself out, my wife and I decided to take a break from regular attendance. It’s hard to find peace when you want to tell certain people to go to blazes.

I thought we would go back. We never did.

But I walk by that church every weekday. Each time I look up at it, I try to remember my friends in the congregation. They’re good people.

Here’s wishing them all a glorious Easter.

“Today’s Slice question: Do you feel odd about noticing just how great certain members of the opposite sex look when all dressed up for church?