When the Founders Fade

I have found myself preaching a lot at congregations that are struggling with change, that have something in common: their founders are dying.

In Unitarian Universalism (and maybe other denominations?), there was a big bloom of new congregations in the 90s across the continent – many founded as lay led, or with part time ministers. Some were extensions of existing congregations, some filled empty spaces where a congregation should be.

As these congregations are celebrating their 30^th or 40^th anniversaries, they are simultaneously mourning the losses of their founders – these amazing people who worked so hard a few decades ago to create the congregation, develop its systems, figure out bylaws and committee structures, lines of communication and policies, mission and vision. The founders have held all the positions of leadership throughout, holding the vision and doing the work.

And then a new generation of leaders comes in and wants to do all that work again.

And do it differently.

Didn’t we just do this, our founders ask? Why do they want to change it? Who do they think they are?

But here is where it gets hard, because every time new people come to our congregations, especially when they are of a different generation, there is a little… maybe not mistrust exactly, but hesitation. Do they get the vision? Will they do it the way we did it? Will this continue to be the congregation I love? After all, our systems are working pretty well, and if I didn’t do this, I don’t know what I would do.

Does that sound familiar? For some of you, I’m sure it does. It’s reasonable. This is what generational shifts look like.

I suspect many of the founders who are still living are Boomers, and who only had a vision, but also built some thing with that vision. And now the congregation is thriving - maybe you built or bought a building, called a minister, hired staff, expanded outreach, provide great programming, live out a vibrant mission.

That’s what boomers do. They name a vision and work toward that vision. But then Gen Xers come along, and they look at the systems, and they begin tinkering, and figuring out what might be done differently and more efficiently. And… because of their agility, they have a certain kind of strength of leadership in times of crisis, which we are definitely in. And as we emerge from the crisis, the Millennials come in to rebuild our institutions in new ways. And the Zoomers, many of whom are already young adults, are proving themselves to be people who are ready to implement change and amplify the vision for the next generation. And the cycle continues.

But it’s hard, in the meantime. Because no generation will do with the way the previous ones did, and while you’re all on the same journey, the road can become muddy and rough.

So it’s easy to want to keep the system the way it is. And the truth is, when a system appears to be working well, and the people who are doing the jobs are doing them well, it’s hard for others to say yes to taking on those roles, despite the pleas of the exhausted leaders. There’s a worry about stepping on someone else’s toes, or not being as good at it, or being thought of as usurping. And it’s especially hard when the leader has been doing that task for a really long time.

It’s so easy to let systems just run the way they always have – but that way leads to burnout for the leaders and stagnation for the congregation.

It would be so easy to ignore the changes in front of us and just focus on what we know, but dang it all, the world keeps changing. We keep growing older. Which means we changing our internal systems too, to rid them of the structures that keep the circle of love small.

And sometimes that means that the people who built the original things must accept that change is gonna happen whether we want it to or not, and maybe it’s good for everyone if we find ways to support that change.

Even if it feels scary, because you aren’t just changing what seemed to be working, you’re having to put faith in others that the change will be good. You have to trust that those changes will mean a smoother road, and more access, and more opportunity. You’re choosing to make changes, letting those with more energy take the lead, and trusting that it is the right choice.

Which I think it is.

And that’s hard. Hard to trust the unknown. Hard to have faith.

But it isn’t all bad. It also means that as some of you decide it is time to move out of active leadership, you get to move into a crucially important role in any congregation – the role of history-holder, mentor, legacy-maker. New leaders always benefit from learning what happened before, so they can make more informed choices. And sometimes the old ways ARE the best ways, or at least show us that we can make changes that are less drastic, or a little more subtle.

Becoming comfortable with changes in systems and in leadership does NOT mean we don’t revere the past – we do. Our history matters. Your history matters. But is also means we trust the dawning future more.

Change is good. It’s inevitable. It’s okay. The vision toward goodness, justice, transformation, and love continues.