An essential part of my morning habit is to retrieve my newspaper from wherever it was heaved and retreat to my spot in the house where I can scan the headlines to see what’s transpired while I was asleep. Perhaps as a sign of my age or life stage, I turn to the editorial pages now before I peruse the sports section. Given the debate that is being waged on talk radio these days on America’s use of torture during the just-finished Bush administration, I wasn’t the least bit surprised one recent morning to spy several headlines about this issue. What lured me into reading it, though, was a piece by former CIA interrogator who had been ordered to torture captured enemy soldiers during the Viet Nam War. The CIA believed that it had captured a high-ranking NVA officer, but despite subjecting him to all kinds of gruesome cruelty, the soldier kept denying that he was the officer in question. Finally, when the writer got involved, it was after the CIA had moved the prisoner to a small, completely white cell with no windows. They had kept him isolated there for three years, never turning off the bright overhead lights, always keeping the room temperature frosty. He only began to tell the truth when the interrogator became the only person to shatter his enforced solitude. The officer had been well-trained to endure excruciating pain and suffering. What broke him was a combination of extreme loneliness and the eventual inability to keep track of the passage of time.
While being the pastor of a local church is nothing like being tortured as a prisoner of war, it nevertheless often brings with it it’s own unique kind of torture. Speaking at a recent national gathering of Christian pastors, Pastor Rob Bell of Michigan’s Mars Hill Bible Church described our job as “death by a thousand paper cuts.” Every pastor in that audience immediately thought of the damage done by innumerable and incessant little criticisms, of the impossible-to-meet expectations and demands on the pastor and his/her family. Years and years of feeling taken for granted or not being respected also take their toll on every pastor’s spirit. Yet like God’s elite soldiers, we pastors are trained somehow to endure whatever punishment our deacons and church members can do to us. The only confession they’ll hear from us is “Thanks for sharing your concern with me. God bless you for your honesty.”
While some pastors finally succumb, many of us soldier on, seemingly impervious to repeated violations and degradations. However, our ultimate downfall is quite often the same thing that broke the NVA officer. It is not so much the ‘paper cuts’ but the ongoing isolation from meaningful contact with other pastors that, in the end, crushes our wills and defeats our spirits.
Years ago, I came to the realization that I—and not anyone else—was cutting myself off from regular, meaningful contact with other local pastors. Consumed by the boundary-less expanse of pastoring, my days, weeks, and months blurred into one continuous ball of concerns, meetings and messages. To remedy this, I called together an eclectic bunch of pastors to meet over lunch on the 4th Tuesday of each month. A few were already friends of mine; others were from nearby churches. Some of the originals are still here, others have dropped out, and each year we add a few more. The only prayer we utter is over our fast-food or leftovers. The rest of the two hours is reserved for sharing concerns, personnel issues, discussing trends, or seeking advice from peers. Being together has been meaningful if only because there is no need to explain what you do or to convince each other of the unique joys and sorrows of our shared calling. We have walked each other through the dark night of a church split. We have tried to parse the underlying issues surrounding ministering to homosexuals and their families. We have enjoyed plotting each other’s upcoming sabbaticals. Currently, we are weighing bringing our churches together to assist homeless families year-round.
Although I host our gathering, no one is ‘in charge.’ It’s really a circle of equals, regardless of the size of our budgets or the state of our churches. It’s become one of those unique groups where pastors aren’t trying to impress each other with factoids that rarely get at what matters to God. The time together goes by quickly. At two o’clock, we part company and scatter back to the broken people and fractured communities that Jesus has called us to love and shepherd. We return to worlds that haven’t been altered by our time with each other. But somehow it makes a huge difference to know that someone really understands and that we are not alone.
Comments (9)
Allen: It's relieving to know that you're pro-active about keeping yourself in good personal health -- I shudder to wonder what someone covered in paper-cuts would look like. I'm sure the other pastors that you meet up with appreciate the opportunity to be able to "release" to perhaps the only ones outside of themselves that can relate and even understand.
Tammy: It's amazing how much pastors give (in very meaningful and personal ways). After a while, it's easy to forget that pastors need community (just like the rest of us).
it's hard enough leading a small group...
I remember someone telling me once - and I can't remember if it was you - that pastors often have a hard time having "friends" in the normal sense within their own church.
Part of it's just the stigma - "Oh hey, pastor's in the room. I better behave." In some ways, that can keep folks from being themselves, which is silly, because it's based on the erroneous assumption that the pastor is somehow above being a normal human being who likes to goof around and shoot the breeze and make the occasional slightly inappropriate joke like the rest of us. (You can tell me if your experience here is different than what I'm assuming!)
Part of it's the fact that people seem to expect pastors to be always "on". I mean, you probably don't ever want to say no when someone comes to you with a prayer request or something. But at the same time, if I were in that position, it'd be kind of annoying when there are plenty of other peers in the church who are quite capable of saying a simple prayer. Even with simple things, sometimes it seems like a pastor can't be "off duty". I met Pastor Steve "up close" for the first time at lunch on Easter Sunday. When lunch was served, we did the usual "uneasily stare around the table" thing to figure out who would cave first and say grace. Then someone volunteered Steve, 'cause hey, he's a pastor! It's his job to pray! And he wisely explained that he generally lets other people do this for exactly that reason. He had a very good point. And I felt pretty silly. It's not like it requires a seminary-level education to say grace for a meal!
And then there's the other side of the coin - some folks expect that pastors are always crazy busy, so they don't really approach them on a friendship level. I figure some of those pastors would probably appreciate the human contact, even if they are busy. So that's why, to the extent possible, I try to treat 'em like normal people. (Then it becomes this weird issue of context. When is it OK to be informal and just say "Sharon" instead of "Pastor Sharon"? Especially when a pastor is your age...)
Anyway, just some random thoughts. Wanted you to know that I get that it's hard and I don't take it for granted that it can be a bit lonely (or at least difficult to define the nature of relationships) when you're the one "in charge".
Hey PK, that reminds me of Moses as he's leading the Israelites out of Egypt. It amazes me how selfish people can be with the church on what it can do for them versus what they can do for the church. That is what I like about the 4 part gospel you have shared with us. It's not about us but what we can do to change peoples lives for the better.
On a side note, it's kinda hard to treat you like a pastor when you are in your bike shorts (LOL).
I am so glad you addressed this b/c self care is essential to spiritual and emotional health and effective ministry. Back in the mid 90s I made a move from a ministry situation where I had the benefits of a supportive community of pastors--which at the time included you and other American Baptist pastors. I ended up in church where I was the solo pastor and no supportive pastoral community. I went for about two years in a grueling ministry situation and only occasional contact with ministry support people. My neglect of self care had disastrous results that had a long lasting effect on my life and the life of my family. For about 12 years I have been a part of a group of pastors that meet monthly over breakfast. These guys play an essential role in my spiritual and emotional health.
Great post. Before I got into the ministry, I had some good friends tell me very similar things about the life of a pastor. Some really handy tips, suggestions and thoughts helped me start off my life in a pastoral role in a healthy way... simple things... like
- make sure you save a date night once a week with your wife- untouchable by ministry, unless it's an extreme emergency- emails, board votes on certain topics, and meetings can wait an extra day
- set aside a dedicated sabbath/day off- stay away from "work" emails (admin/church related ministry)- and use that time to take care of yourself, or even your own personal ministries (relationships, non-church mentorships, etc)
- meet with others who you can talk to regularly. Everyone in the work world can get together and share their pains... if you work in an office, you all have a boss, a coworker who doesn't know when to stop talking, due dates, paper work, etc... These are things that pastors may not understand... but not everyone understands the pressure and isolation (that you so well described above) that pastors can go through. Not everyone will be as excited as you for the little changes you see in someone that no one else notices... not everyone will be as disappointed when things don't go the way we hoped it would... 2 are better than 1 and it's so important to find someone that you can be intertwined with, that understands you and that can encourage you (and you him/her).
These little things have gone a long way. Great post again. =o) I always appreciate the honesty and heart that you bring!
@pccpastors - DS: I was hoping that you were lurking out there, ready to read, reflect, and respond! I'm still telling people about your reply to my "How to Judge a Tree" blog! God has produced a great deal of depth and wisdom in you these ensuing years, my compadre. That has not been without a high price to pay, but you're the better person and pastor for it. Vaya con dios, mi amigo.
pastor ken, I can't say how great it is to hear that you have a circle of trust and support that you can rely on. I imagine that it can be extremely lonely at times, and that sometimes what you need is not more alone time to stew over the issues but actual support, a good listening ear, and sound advice from people who understand what you're going through. It must be like a breath of fresh air each month to meet with these other pastors. Awesome!