Generational changes aren't always easy. For example, I've been asked to head up the deacons at my church (not an order of clergy where I am right now), and one of the most dedicated deacons is a man who has been working on keeping the grounds of the church in order since the 1950s. I am young enough to be his grandchild. And I am now in charge.
Infrastructure-wise, one of the observations I've made since I took over this job is that the prior generation seemed to have a "do it yourself" attitude, where spending money to hire a professional was something akin to a waste of money. . . . The net result is that there are a lot of odd things about wiring and plumbing and such at the church caused by almost 60 years worth of "good enough" ad hoc maintenance. I (and I think this is a generational thing) am appalled by this - because we are setting ourselves up for a massive failure if any of the ad hoc stuff eventually fails. . . . I've had to use the phrase "penny-wise but pound foolish" a number of times recently.
We recently had to replace a back-flow preventer that had been stolen, and when the time came to decide how to protect it, the long-time member had the idea of rigging up a sort of ad hoc anti-theft device out of spare parts, rather than hiring someone to create a more professional anti-theft cage. Since I was in charge, I went with the professional, which seemed to depress the long-time member.
What I realized was that he cares, but it hasn't occurred to him that there might be more than one way to do certain things. And that just because he does things one way, that doesn't mean his way is exclusive. . . . Lest anyone think this is just his failing, I also had a conversation with a very young guy, who felt that anyone who didn't like his brand of music should just "move with the times" - it not occurring to him that maybe this was a matter of personal taste rather than universal truth.
I wonder how many things I do are the subject of this same blindness - where I confuse personal taste with universal truth . . .
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