Thank you, everyone, for your input and support.
Ail, my determination to stay probably boils down to, “I’ve been here for 21 years and he’s only been here for 1 year, and I’m not going to let him run me off because I was here first!” Pure stubbornness, which is part of my personality. After that long, too, I feel very attached to the church.
Things change, though, and it had occurred to me that maybe this has become a poor match. During the meeting, Quinn mentioned–just mentioned as an observation–that I had received more pastoral care from him during the past year than anyone else in the church. (I can remember 4 instances involving myself, including this meeting, and 2 involving Mr. L.) I’ve realized for years that I seem to need more pastoral care than most people–I have no family, no close friends, and a couple of affective disorders–but never before have I felt that this need makes me a bad person. Now, I do; my response to Quinn was that I’d never call him again. My reaction was run through two filters. One was the church doctor’s book, in which church members are ridiculed for wanting pastoral care, a desire to receive a hospital visit from one’s pastor after LUNG SURGERY is presented as unreasonable, and congregation members are portrayed as burdens that interfere with the pastor’s real job of converting unbelievers. The other is my abused childhood, in which I heard constantly from my mother that I was “spoiled, selfish, and inconsiderate” and from my father that I was a “miserable kid” just because I EXISTED and had the needs that all children have.
It’s becoming evident that, for all his warmth and enthusiasm displayed while leading worship services, Quinn’s strength is administration. He doesn’t seem to deal well with one-on-one interactions. That may just be the way he is, but I’m also the way I am. Maybe it is counterproductive trying to fit together pieces that just don’t mesh.
What did the song say? “There ain’t no good guy. There ain’t no bad guy. There’s only you and me, and we just disagree”?