A searchable, downloadable PDF of the original article appears below. A. Donald MacLeod is Associate Pastor at Knox (Spadina) Church in Toronto. One of his concerns as chairperson of the Renewal Fellowship is that of pastoral care.
He was calling from a payphone downtown.
“Just happened to be in town today,” he began. “Wondered if there was any chance we could get together.”
I caught my breath. My day off. Sermon still to be finished. End of the week.
“Sure,” I replied. “Where can we meet?”
Three hours later I learned why he had come. God had meant that we should hear one another, share, and give. His ministry was – to his view at least – in the doldrums, the winter blahs. The second year syndrome – “First year they love you, second they hate you, the third they tolerate you” – was giving way to the stage of indifference. Had he made a mistake in accepting the call in the first place? Was something else a more useful place of service? Where would it all lead? Where was God?
I listened. Shared some of my own needs in ministry. Allowed him to speak to my needs. Reassured him as best I could of God’s purposes in his life as I had experienced them myself. As he drove back to the small town in Eastern Ontario where he served a rural congregation, he made a parting comment.
“It’s good to have someone to talk to. There doesn’t seem to be anyone whom I can relate to in Presbytery. Hard to share in our ministerial. Don’t like to burden my wife – she’s got enough to do coping with the kids. Thanks for the time.”
My friend was an illustration of one of the most pressing needs of the church – of the Presbyterian Church in Canada – today. In the last decade we have seen an escalation right across our continent, in all churches, right across the theological spectrum, of symptoms of distress in the ministry. Sometimes these difficulties can express themselves in simple burnout, exhaustion, the need for what used to be call “R and R” in the army, and which is no less a requirement for soldiers of God. But it may also be characterized by marriage breakdown – figures here show an alarming increase. Even clergy suicide is on the increase.
The mental health of ministers should be on the top of the agenda for any who are seeking renewal in the church. Too often this concern has been crisis-oriented, dealing with sickness rather than prevention. Good mental hygiene on the part of clergy starts with preparation and early education, continues with healthy patterns of interaction and evaluation, and rests on a secure understanding between parish and preacher of what each expects of the other. When the mental health of the clergy becomes a matter of negative discipline, of measures which can be understood as repressive or vindictive, the whole process of interrelationships between the servant of a servant Lord and the servant people committed to his or her charge has obviously broken down. Disease has come to the body.
The need for such preventive and corrective measures becomes especially apparent when the impact of such a cancerous development affects the whole living organism. Any congregation going through a crisis of its minister’s mental or spiritual health can tell you just how devastating a marriage breakdown, burnout or erratic and unpredictable behaviour can be on the ongoing thrust and viability of a congregation. Such implications are not only capable of engrossing the whole attention of the church over a period of time, sapping its energy for outreach. It can as well compromise the claims of the very faith it is seeking to proclaim.
It would be fatuous for us as Evangelicals to claim that we are immune from such pressures. Too often we have said that such crises are typical of those who don’t accept the gospel, whose faith does not reflect the biblical and moral anchors of a strong theological commitment to objective truth. But, in fact, Evangelicals are often the most vulnerable.
Why is this? Most obviously, some brands of Evangelical Christianity can be dangerous for anyone’s mental health. An easy-believism, faith as the “quick-fix”, can deny not only the cost of discipleship but the recognition that faith often does not eradicate problems so much as help one live with them. An erroneous view of sanctification, an inadequate concept of depravity, are not merely theological and esoteric inaccuracies. They also have profound implications for day-to-day conduct and life. Sooner or later the reality of our brokenness catches up with us. The crash can be catastrophic.
As well, there is abroad an Evangelical triumphalism that leads one to the tacit assumption that all that is required in the ministry is to preach the gospel and the crowds will flock, the coffers be filled, and the church prosper. To do less than that is in some way to compromise the very theology we profess to believe. A struggling Evangelical church, especially in a pluralistic denomination, is an affront. We must keep up appearances, even if the realities make this difficult. Don’t let the side down. The pressure of triumphalism takes its toll. Truth breaks in. The emperor has no clothes. The pastor is devastated. “Doesn’t the gospel work?” becomes the question as well as the inference.
And at that point our isolation as Evangelicals can often mean we have no place to turn. We have been so quick to give the answers to other people’s church problems that we lack the face now to seek solutions from those whom we have either spurned or ignored. We wait until problems escalate before seeking the listening ear, the sympathetic advice, the counsel from seniors in the ministry which, while not necessarily coming from our theological stable, nevertheless has the practical wisdom of common sense (and often toleration) behind it.
These are negatives behind the unique pressures Evangelicals face in a pluralistic denomination. But there are others which reflect the strength of our commitments. Evangelical churches are often high-stress situations because of their ‘all-or-nothing’ approach. They have high expectations – expectations related to the quality of biblical preaching, the concern of shared family life as a congregation, and the practical demonstrations of evangelistic responsibility, combined with an active social conscience. And let us not minimize the activities of the Enemy. His Satanic majesty will not allow signs of life to further jeopardize his sway over the loyalties and affections of millions. He is still the roaring lion.
Stress in the ministry is often related to the “season” (to use John Killinger’s expression) in which one finds oneself. In his useful Christ In The Seasons of Ministry he speaks of the tensions involved at the four stages of life as a clergyperson. In Spring there is the need to learn to wait for the kingdom. Seminaries can be a breeding ground for the destruction of idealism and the development of cynicism.
Summer represents the high noon of our ministry. But amid the pressures of our days, the demands on our time, there is the temptation to become shallow, to neglect the disciplines of our devotional life, to run out of steam.
Fall can be the time for living with failures. The last decade of active ministry, the time between 55 and 65. can also be the most stressful. The financial uncertainties of the future, the recognition that where we are we will always be. and the nagging questions – “Was it all worth it?”, “What could I have done differently?” – these all can come to haunt. Statistically it has been proven that this can be the place when long term relationships break down. Even suicide. It can also be a time of reaping a rich harvest from the seed sown in faithful service over a lifetime of giving and loving. The habits of former years, the disciplines learned or ignored, have a way of catching up.
Then there is winter. Retirement can be the most precious time for ministry. Or retirement can be a time of unmitigated disaster, of harbouring the accumulated resentments and bitternesses of what are perceived as misunderstanding and lack of appreciation by congregations. Fortunately winter time in the ministry can be an opportunity for reflecting and sharing lessons learned through a lifetime of service and example.
In one congregation a recent clergy crisis has alerted the laity to the need for rethinking their own responsibility to a minister. The vacancy is proving for them a chance painfully to reexamine their “pastoring of the pastor.” What can laypersons do to enhance clergy morale and sound mental health?
Probably the most important thing laity can do for their minister is to pray. Prayer during the week, but particularly prayer on the weekend. Saturday and Sunday are two stress days for the clergy – and their families. Preoccupation with the “up-front’’ part of ministry can be taxing on those in the Manse. Saturday night are one time for special intercession. Clergy are vulnerable. They need prayer partners.
The second concern is the capacity to listen to your minister. Too often he or she becomes the sounding board, the focus for pent-up frustrations and lack of communication elsewhere. Establish a relationship with your minister that is not one way. Encourage the two-way sharing – not only that they be your servant, but that you as well be a servant to them. It is easy for the professional to need to be needed. It must work both ways. Hopefully the old idea that one never related closely to anyone in one’s parish is dead. On the other hand, being too much “the minister’s man” can encourage jealousy and resentment. Sensitivity is needed. A friend to a minister is not a “yes man”. He reflects accurately the congregation’s perspective without passing on harmful or unnecessary gossip or information.
Sooner or later the reality of our brokenness catches up with us. The crash can be catastrophic.
Third, practical help for the ministry can be of inestimable value. Anticipating the redecorating of the manse, the need for new appliances. Providing an adequate stipend, regularly reviewed, so that if the minister’s spouse does not want to work it won’t be necessary to do so – these are all parts of the ministering to the minister. And ensuring your clergyperson takes a day off, that is held inviolable, that they have their full holidays (and get right away out of the routine), and that they take seriously their study leaves: these are essential.
And the clergy? How can we ensure that we grow in grace, in love both of Christ and of those to whom He call us. Grow in our marriages. Grow as families. Grow old gracefully. That amid the pressures of our vocation we are still found faithful.
Obviously such soundness starts in the disciplines of our life. Our devotional lives. Perhaps that day-a-month “Quiet Day” that John Stott urges in his Between Two Worlds as a remedy for ministerial burnout. The discipline of regular physical exercise, of keeping our body in shape. The discipline of providing time for a marriage to grow, for children to be heard, for other interests to be pursued. How devastating his retirement when the church has been one’s entire preoccupation for forty years!
But above all, the ability to listen to each other. There need to be new ways around the confrontational nature of our church courts. Small groups of clergy who covenant together to meet regularly, for encouragement as well as correction, and who will stand with each other in the crises of the ministry with love and utter confidentiality. We as Evangelicals need to reach beyond the boundaries of our own theological isolations and both help and be helped. We are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. We are accountable for one another’s ministries.
There is no greater need, if the Presbyterian Church in Canada is to be renewed, than that we serve each other, laity and clergy alike, as those called to be “servants of a Servant Lord” in the professional ministry.