Episcopal Church Foundation Vestry Papers - for leading congregations

When I called Gwen at 9:15 Monday morning the parish office was already abuzz. Gwen, our parish administrator, had just returned from a week vacation yet still took time for a long conversation with me. The purpose was a bit unusual – an interview in which I was seeking her input on the relationship of our parish to the young adult intern program we host. Gwen’s role as administrator and leading community member is critical. Interns pass by her desk every day on their way to work. She provides them with all kinds of information and advice about life in the parish and the city.

And, Gwen helps mentor them in questions of faith and vocational discernment.

Which got me thinking: What do parish administrators think of their role? Do members of the congregation, like me, really understand their job? I remembered my mom was once a parish administrator, so I called her to ask about her experience. I learned that she had worked in two settings: a parish in Massachusetts and the cathedral in Milwaukee.

Both Gwen and mom said the best part of the job is interacting with a variety of people. Gwen said she learned something new every day from someone she encountered. Mom shared that because a cathedral has more people passing through than a parish, it was both more interesting and more challenging. Not only do parish administrators get to meet all sorts of people, but they also get to experience first hand how a congregation interacts with its community through all its various ministries.

Mom said she loved having the opportunity to say morning prayer every day at the church.

I asked mom what others, like me, may not notice or understand about a parish administrator’s role. Her answer came quickly: they are the first ones to respond to people in need. Because churches are known to help people, the person who answers the phone is immediately and constantly put into a position of attending to the heart, mind, and soul of others. Sometimes people are suicidal, others need money or work, and some have family troubles or problems in the community. But often, mom said, people just want someone to talk to. It was almost like being a psychologist or social worker. She always kept a list of important resources nearby, so she could provide referrals depending on the need. But referrals were the last step at the end of a longer conversation where she had to listen and discern how best to help. The work is truly a ministry, not just administration.

My conversation with mom ended with her favorite memory as a parish secretary. (Well, there was another funny story, too, but I’m not allowed to share it publicly!)

One day at the cathedral she was surprised to recognize the voice at the other end of the line: Archbishop Desmond Tutu. He was calling for Bishop Patrick, a fellow South African for whom my mom worked. “Just a minute please, and I’ll connect you,” she replied in usual fashion. But when she pressed the line for Bishop Patrick, the call got disconnected. The cathedral had just installed a new phone system, and apparently it didn’t function as before. About 30 seconds later Bishop Tutu called back. Mom was thoroughly embarrassed and apologized to him. Not wanting to make the same mistake again, she set the phone receiver on her desk and took off to find Bishop Patrick. She literally kicked off her shoes so as not to slip, then ran through flights of well-worn old staircases and winding passageways to the other end of the cathedral, huffing by the time she arrived at Bishop Patrick’s office to declare with excitement: “Bishop Tutu is on the phone!”