Learning the Ropes

Richard G. Carter was the quintessential scholastic snob. He delighted in esoteric trivia. His view of parishioners as pathetic little paeans fueled his elitist arrogance. But this is not to say that Dick was a bad person. He was just odd. And he was the kind of oddity that strangely defines the rule rather than the exception for United Methodist clergy. Two independent studies conducted in the late 1980s and early 1990s both concluded that over three-quarters of clergy in the United States are clinically codependent (now there’s a fact to ponder for at least the next couple of seconds). Dick always made me think that he would have been happier as a teacher, but a mere teacher doesn’t enjoy the same status and prestige as a minister who as often as not fulfills the additional roles of principal, superintendent, and board member within the local church. As is true with many pastors, Dick didn’t try to hide his preference of particular parishioners over others. This was okay for those who found themselves in his favor, but was a chronic irritant to those he chose to ignore. This basically explains the working environment I entered at Rockbrook UMC. My predecessor had been beguiled by the disenfranchised parishioners who led him to believe that they might succeed in ousting Carter (again, this scenario will eerily repeat itself a decade later). The only thing that this treachery accomplished was the appointment of a new associate—yours truly.