Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

Keep the Serenity Prayer close at hand when reading anonymous evaluation forms.

We just completed our diocesan convention. For the first time, I was in charge as chair of the dispatch of business. (This is also the last time because I’ve accepted a new job).

We introduced significant changes, from a new registration system to a re-structured agenda to a new style of worship. We moved to a nearly paperless convention, inviting people to bring their tablets and smart phones (we created a download page and a QR code so people could easily find all the documents).

It was a lot of change. Especially for a people who don’t like change.

By many measures, the convention was a success. We elected new leaders, passed resolutions and the budget, listened to reports of key and emerging ministries, and worshipped together. We ended both days early, and the audio visual presentation was as smooth as I can remember in a decade. 

Of the 500 people at convention, 20 or so have filled out a feedback form. Does this mean the other 480 thought convention rocked? Are they apathetic? Or have they already moved on to Thanksgiving? There are lots of ways to interpret the low response, but keeping the number of evaluations in context is important. 

This is especially true since a handful of the (mostly) anonymous evaluations took us to the woodshed. They either hated (really hated) the liturgies – or loved them (and why couldn’t we have had more music and worship time?) The move to paperless was OK with most of the responders. But, they pointedly wondered: Why are we ignoring the technophobes and the poor? (This is pretty close to a verbatim recounting of one complaint). 

Registration received the same seesaw of evaluation. When it was good, it was very good. But when it was bad ... well, suffice it to say the open-ended comment section of the evaluations got a workout. 

There are several ways to respond to feedback forms. We could totally ignore it. We could rip apart the fabric of the new convention structure and go back carte blanche to the old ways. 
Or, (and this is what I’m proposing), we could carefully read each form, putting the comments (both glowing and glaring) into perspective. There are tweaks and changes that could definitely improve the experience. There are things we could do to help participants who are uncomfortable with change. We’ll consider that some people just like to vent, and this gave them the opportunity. Others have significant and credible concerns, and we’ll try to address those.

For me, a major learning has been to mentally and emotionally prepare myself for feedback on this event that required a tremendous amount of my time, energy, and tears. I need to not take it personally even if it required such personal sacrifice. And I probably need to say the Serenity Prayer a few times (with a slight change). 

God, give me grace to accept with serenity 
the things that cannot be changed, 
Courage to change the things 
which should be changed, 
and the Wisdom (and delete key) to distinguish 
the one from the other.