To intern is to impound or confine or place under restriction an undesirable person, generally under unpleasant conditions, such as during wartime. To intern can also mean to invite graduates to climb new heights of learning by giving them practical and supervised experience in their chosen profession. From the first description comes the word "internment." From the second, "internship." When the distinction between the two is blurred, when those under intern ship experience a feeling of internment, there are serious problems both for the interns and for the organization that provides internship.
And this is particularly so in ministry!
Ministerial internship, intended as an apprenticeship in service, often becomes a period of confusion and discouragement. Many young pastors and their families feel trapped. They do not know what is expected of them. They feel they are on trial, and they are not sure how long the period will last. As the years grind on with little communication from the local ordained minister or the conference, many interns experience anxiety regarding their image and self-worth. Confidence gives way to self-doubt: Is my work appreciated? Am I in the right job? Was I really called to the ministry?
The internship period can be a blessing to all concerned. It can lighten the load of the local minister, increase the talent pool of the conference, and give the novice a glimpse of Christlike service. I shall now outline some practical ways in which this ideal can be reached. I shall address my concerns to the intern, to the supervising minister, and to the conference president. But first some thoughts on college training and the ministry.
College preparation
My husband and I enjoyed our college years, taking many of our classes together. We studied everything from giving Bible studies to fine art. In no time at all it seemed that we were on our way to our first assignment: a small rural community, where we lived in a house designed and built by a local farmer. The nearest neighbor was about a half mile away. A hand-laid pipe brought us water from a small spring up on a hill. Sometimes frogs came down with the water. And for entertainment, well, I do remember one Saturday night, sitting in our car to keep warm, listening to an old tape as a deep voice sang, "
So send I you, to labor unrewarded,
To serve unpaid, unloved,
unsought, unknown,
To bear rebuke, to suffer scorn and scoffing--
So send I you to toil for Me alone.
So send I you to loneliness and longing, . . .
So send I you to taste of Calvary."
College does not prepare you for loneliness, longing--or people. The toil is not merely geographical or physical or social. For example, on our first visit to one farmer he invited us out for a night of rabbit shooting. On another occasion my husband had to liaise with the town builder over roof tiles for the new church. Our idea of a social life, our values, and our theological perspectives were often miles apart from the people we had come to serve.
Our college days taught us to study and to persevere in difficult circumstances, but they did not prepare us for some of the more practical aspects of ministry. Classes on money management, church building programs, and, above all, counseling and personal relationships would have been invaluable. We soon learned that ministry is more than passing six subjects per quarter and taking part in student Weeks of Prayer. Ministry is people: loving them in spite of differences; counseling them on family problems without taking sides; being there when they need you.
When interns get to the place where they feel comfortable in ministering to people and competent in daily caring for the church, their internship will become foundation stones, rather than mill stones, to their subsequent ministry. Those first few years often determine the tenor of their future service.
To the intern
"You can change the world!" Throughout your college years that is one message you could not have missed. With that vision firmly rooted in its place, you step out to your first parish and there you hit your first brick wall: member inertia. Nobody seems to want change, least of all in the way you think they should. What can you do? You can let disillusionment harden into bitterness. You can conclude that you are a failure and the system that produced you is in competent. Or you can begin to evaluate this new "reality" and change your internal attitudes accordingly. There are at least three things you can do.
First, approach your internship with out preconceived opinions. Prejudgment is a valuable time-saver in everyday life. You do not research the baking industry every time you slice a loaf of bread. Based on experience, you trust your baker, and take a bite. However, when you commence your internship years, you may find that prejudgment can, in fact, be prejudice. Your experience with the conference administration and the local minister need not mirror that of earlier graduates in every detail. Why burden your new relationship with your supervising pastor with the weight of others' tales of woe? Give your pastor your loyalty. Give yourself a chance.
Second, cultivate a teachable spirit. The favorite phrase of a 4-year-old boy who comes to play with our toddler is "I know." If that is your philosophy, be prepared for disappointment. Nobody likes a know-it-all. Before the full weight of church responsibility is yours, learn to listen more than you speak, and consciously maintain a teachable spirit. You will certainly make more friends, and you will be surprised at how much even the quietest church member can teach you.
For example, we learned a lesson in evangelism from an unexpected source. In the second church we pastored, we began a series of public meetings with much apprehension. Our members revealed very little evangelistic talent or support. But a woman in a wheelchair made the difference: in her own quiet ways, she brought to the meetings more people than anyone else, and led the most to the baptismal pool.
Third, be prepared for hurts. Recently our church ran a holiday program for local children. The person in charge gave her total commitment to the program. She even took off a week from work. After the first day, she confided in me, "People do not seem as willing to help me as in previous years." Evidently she was not flooded with gratitude or cooperation.
Her comments reflect a type of pain that every minister feels. You plan a program, spending hours in planning, and then discover that your members are not there to support you. That hurts. You can take this personally, and subject your family and yourself to much anguish, or you can use the experience to build up your mental file of what works and what does not.
To the supervising minister
An atmosphere of learning and discovery marked our internship period largely because of the kindness and love dis played by our local ordained minister. He opened his home and his heart to us. He listened to our troubles and plans, and included us in meals and family worships. We worked 35 miles away, and so he sometimes gave us a bed for the night, too. His wife shared ideas and experiences with me as we prepared meals and washed dishes. They both made us feel proud to be allies in service.
Unfortunately, not all supervising ministers have worked with interns so successfully. One insisted on phoning an intern early in the morning. Another expected his intern to run errands, wash his car, and even polish his shoes! Still another required that the young trainee follow someone else's script in preaching in a public campaign, the humiliating experience eventually pushing that intern out of the ministry.
So what can you do to have a successful relationship with your intern? First, ask yourself a series of questions: What did you like most about your own intern ship? What caused you the most heart ache? What do you now expect from the intern working with you? Answer these questions honestly, and you will have a good start in preparing for constructive communication and shared goals with your intern. You will also help your intern to overcome a common dilemma he or she will face: "What is expected of me?"
Second, share your experiences: your failures, your successes, your ups, your downs, your good times, your bad times. Let these speak to the young person. A life shared is a life built. Take the intern with you on your visits. Invite the trainee to sit on board meetings, to help you plan the agenda for the church. Let the intern try his or her own God-given wings.
Third, obtain the respect of your intern not by your wisdom, not by your eloquence, not by your sermons, but by your humility, kindness, and willingness to be a friend. Your intern is your fellow laborer together with God.
To the conference president
Your interns have spent up to six years absorbing information and ideas. This living "raw material" now becomes your precious charge. Like you, they will sometimes feel lonely. Like you, they will feel squeezed between the opinions of those in their care and those who pay their wages. Like you, they need a helping hand when they fail and a pat on the back when they succeed. You can make so much difference to their training and attitude toward ministry.
"If there is one thing I have learned in the ministry," says one experienced minister, "it is to listen. If you are going to lead, you have to be the best listener in the world."
This person has learned that to lead people without knowing them or under standing their needs is an uphill road. Talk to your interns. Listen to them. A quick telephone call can mean more than a long letter. Don't let people hear about their new appointments from the rostrum. Be considerate of feelings, and your thoughtful attitude will be multiplied a hundredfold, for there are few things as encouraging to harassed ministers and interns as a cheerful and helpful conference administration.
Communicate conference policy clearly and intelligently. As ministry be comes professional, involving years of training, interns need to know where they stand with regard to finances and terms of employment. If a conference cannot afford the benefits stated in policy, it may be better to change the policy rather than appear to begrudge every request of the interns. At the time of their greatest commitment and lowest finances they need the assurance of accurate information on which to plan their family budgets.
Another area of concern is evangelism. As a conference president, do you expect all of your interns to be reapers? Sometimes the quest for impressive baptismal statistics honors the charismatic evangelist, but does not recognize the quiet one who prepares the soil, who plants and waters the seed. Is the contribution of that quiet one of any less value? Diversity, as in an orchestra, can contribute to harmony and creativity.
Good communication leads to better understanding. Take, for example, re treats for pastors. "My husband came home exhausted," commented one pas tor's wife recently. In what sense can retreats be exhausting? Why are these meetings held? To straighten out theology? To motivate greater baptisms? To provide moments of inspiration and sea sons of refreshing? Do pastors and interns have any input in the content of the topics presented at a retreat? Or doesn't it matter? Does the schedule provide opportunity for personal relationships, conferences, discussions, and sharing? You will find more about your intern's real needs across the breakfast table than from the other side of a podium or a desk.
What the intern needs may be just a word of encouragement. Like Tom, who spent all morning cutting the hedge. The job was heavy, and the sun was hot. By the time his wife came home from shop ping, he was just past halfway. He stood back and wiped his brow. She looked out of the car window and said, "You sure have a lot left to do." With that she disappeared into the cool house. Your interns often feel just like Tom. They have worked hard. They are tired. The last thing they want to be told is that they really should be up to cutting far bigger hedges by now. So what do they need? The same as Tom: a cool drink and some praise and appreciation.
Another area of concern to interns is somewhat taboo in the conversation presidents have with them ordination. It is not taboo, however, among interns. As camp meeting approaches, they compare notes. Watch as they try to keep the longing from their eyes when yet another member asks, "Are you going to be ordained this year?" Much of the self-doubt and career insecurity that interns feel could be reduced by following a few simple steps. First, remove the mystery surrounding ordination. It is a solemn step, not a secret one. Second, clarify the terms on which ordination is based. Perhaps a booklet could help, outlining such topics as the biblical basis for ordination, conference expectations, personal preparation, and family involvement. Third, remove the financial connection from ordination a move that could free some conferences from embarrassment.
When the intern, the local minister, and the conference administration thus place their will and their resources to make internship what it ought to be, this period of training need not be feared or experienced as internment, but approached as an opportunity for transformation, for the making of a minister.
