Tuesday, December 20, 2005

On stress in the ministry 2

So, here it is, the week of Christmas, and I find myself not only with Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services but now with a funeral on Thursday and another on Monday. And a wedding the following Saturday. So much for a relaxing Christmas! Talk about stress.

The interesting thing is that I am not stressed at all! For one thing, I "enjoy" funerals. Of course, I don't enjoy the fact that someone has died, but I find funerals to be a time that I can provide real help to a family in a time of great need. And since my funerals tend to be fairly simple (scripture readings and a brief meditation), they are not difficult for me to put together. For years I have said that I'd rather do a funeral than a wedding any day! Finally, this year I realized why: in a funeral, I am in charge; but in a wedding NO ONE is in charge! (Though the bride, the bride's mother, and assorted other people think they're in charge!)

So it's a busy week for me, but not terribly stressful (except for the wedding, of course! :)

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

On stress in the ministry

Some years ago I put together a seminar on "Burnout in the Ministry" that reflected some of the struggles I was experiencing. Each time I gave that presentation to small groups of pastors it had a different focus. At first, time management was the culprit. Then understanding your gifts and skill-sets. Finally, it was tailoring your ministry expectations to the type of church you pastored. But I have grown to understand that ministry, by nature, is a stressful calling. After all, we are working alongside several sets of expectations: God's, our people's, our family's, and our own expectations of ourselves. (That last one is probably the greatest stressor of them all! At least it has been for me.)

God's expectations are incredibly high -- "be holy as I am holy." And I have decided that the only way I can deal with His expectations of me is to understand that His grace to me equals and far exceeds His expectations. I am stretched by His demands, but I have learned (and am continuing to learn) to rest in His mercy, and patience, and grace. And to understand that when He calls me to a task He will equip me to do that task. I have also come to understand and even to appreciate (as I have spoken of earlier) that ministry is suffering. It doesn't just involve suffering, it is suffering. When a pastor understands that suffering is not necessarily a result of failure in ministry but is instead a partner in ministry, he will not be so overwhelmed by it.

Other's expectations of me also create stress. But I learned a great lesson during a terrible crisis some years ago. A family in church -- who also happened to be our best friends in all the world -- were going through a divorce. Because they were such good friends (and probably because I had never seen close friends divorcing before) I made it my job to preserve their marriage. After all, I was their pastor; I was trained for such things; and, as their friend, I couldn't bear to see either them or us in such overwhelming pain. As you might have guessed, I failed. And in my failure I hated myself and I hated God for letting this happen!

But out of the sadness and anger and depression of that experience, I learned a very simple but terribly profound lesson that I have leaned on ever since. I learned to differentiate between my problem and your problem. As simple as that sounds, it has been lifesaving for me. Your problem (in the case of my friends) is to save your marriage. I can't do that for you. NO ONE else can do that for you, no matter how much we would like to! My problem is to help you, to love you, to be your pastor; but it is not to save your marriage. From that time on, whenever I am dealing with people and feel my adrenalin starting to rise and my neck muscles starting to tighten -- I stop and ask myself, "What is MY problem in this difficult situation and what is theirs?" That saves me from becoming (to use a term now out of currency) "co-dependent" and makes me a much better pastor and helper.

Finally, as to my family's expectations, I look back on 30+ years of ministry and realize that too often I put my church and my church work way ahead of my loyalties to my family. And I regret that. But I have also found my family to be far more gracious and forgiving toward me than I am willing to be toward myself.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

One day at a time

How does a long-term pastorate evolve? Literally, "one day at a time!"

I was thinking about this as I waited for my cash at the drive-up teller this afternoon. When I moved to my present church I came with the idea of staying five years or so and then moving on to a more "desirable" congregation (meaning larger, more affluent, more "professional," etc.). So, because I wasn't going to stay for long, I didn't have my name printed on the church stationery. Why make them throw out a lot of outdated sheets? At the house, I kept a lot of our packing boxes, because I just assumed we'd need them soon. And, each year as I compiled the church's annual report, I wondered if it would be my last.

But along the way, one year turned into nearly thirty! There have been times when I've wanted to leave for one reason or another, and times that I tried to leave but it just didn't work out. But for some reason it was hard for me to imagine that I would stay here -- even though the church was doing relatively well. Perhaps it's just that sense that pastors are meant to move around! It wasn't until I turned 50 that it truly occurred to me that I could retire here. I realized that I was at a critical age -- if I wanted to move, that was the time because there's not a big "market" out there for 60-year old pastors! But I didn't want to move! This has been a wonderful place for us -- members who love us and support us, a job I look forward to (just about) every day! Why spoil it all searching for that elusive perfect church? (As someone once told me, "The grass is always greener on the other side, but that's because there's so much manure there!)

So it's been nearly 30 years. But, in reality, it's been about 11,000 days -- one at a time!