David Hayward has been journaling for years, even though he admits that blogging has almost replaced that previous discipline. In Wounded and Proud of It! he writes:
Since I started blogging, I’ve had more people pitying me, feeling sorry for me, and being offended by me than ever before. I’m now being labeled wounded, depressed, heretical, not pastor-material, sabbatical-deprived, hedonistic, and more. I get this at least once a day it seems: “David, I’m concerned for you!” Yoohoo! It’s still me. I think every pastor is wounded. Scratch away at the bandages, whether plain or fancy, and you’ll find the wounds. Guaranteed! The difference with me is I’m trying not to wear the bandages. I’m trying to be open and honest about what I’m going through. I’m a very human pastor in a world of unbearable suffering and I’m telling you about it. That’s all.
I know what it is to be wounded, and something about vulnerability. It seems to me to be essential to become vulnerable to fully be a pastor, just as Jesus made himself vulnerable to his friends. At the same time, it’s worth having a B plan. What will happen if somehow you are so deeply wounded as a consequence allowing yourself to be vulnerable that it takes away your ability to pastor others? At heart, if we’re that deeply hurt, all our energies go into tending and trying to heal the wound, rather than looking outward to our sister or brother who may be in even greater need than ourselves. Perhaps it’s worth pondering? Speaking from experience, I didn’t have a plan B, and it’s pretty destructive!
Thanks, Ian. When you talk about a “B plan” are you referring to a vocation outside of full-time paid ministry? Or did you have something else in mind?
I try not to think about or continue to nurse my old wounds, but rather let my heavenly Physician bring healing while I carry on serving Him. The scars are there and they are sometimes tender to be touched for a long time. I think that’s a good thing, really.
Thanks for your helpful reply.
Hmm, well I wasn’t thinking of it that way, but that is exactly what happened to me in that I had to withdraw from full-time ministry. I didn’t have a plan B for myself, but God provided one by leading me to a job with a Christian charity while the wounds healed enough for me to function again, and begin to dream about returning to a more public ministry. It was just as well I had some skills from my past life which I could use to serve God in this way. Five years on and I’m nearly strong enough to return, I think.
I was thinking more of some sort of support mechanism that you can always trust, so that when being vulnerable leads to new wounds, you have somewhere to go that you can ultimately trust not to be judgemental, where you can begin to put the experience into perspective and heal up. I didn’t have that, and realise in retrospect that it would have avoided disaster for myself in the form of a long period of depression, and for my family.
Ian: Just be careful you don’t return to “public ministry” because it seems like “the done thing” or the only legitimate form of ministry open to you. I’ve become more convinced than ever that a less conspicious vocation (or career) may be the most effective form of genuine ministry, by far, over a traditional role as “pastor” in a religious institution. It gives you freedoms that you will not find in the pastorate and it also provides more credibility, I think, in reaching unbelievers with the Gospel. You may be interested in reading Rethinking full-time ministry in light of 1 Corinthians 7 or another post, Never go to work for God. These might offer a helpful perspective in light of your present situation.
Pastors are “wounded” when they lose faith and don’t follow Scripture. Some pastors have a problem w/actually following Scripture in their relationships w/in the church (asking forgiveness, keeping short accounts, owning sin, being humble, giving forgiveness, not letting a root of bitterness develop in themselves, and not having fear of man–commands for all believers, including pastors ). Pastors like this view every circumstance & difficulty in the context of their authority and in context of their “job,” instead of seeing themselves as people who part of a Body and are in need of growth like the rest of us. Then they wonder why they don’t see the majority of their people coming to maturity and abounding in the work of the Lord.
A year on, I’d say that “public ministry” is only one minor form of the ministry of all God’s people, albeit often more visible than others. However, if I believe that God has called me into a particular form of ministry, then I need to at least try to be obedient to that calling.
Pastors can be wounded by other things than sin and lack of faith on their part. We’re all called to be holy, not just our leaders, but perhaps it’s easier to discern a lack of holiness in those who lead our churches because as a leader you’re constantly challenged about faith and being obedient to God’s will. One of the troubles seems to be that the church expects so much of its professional leaders: personal holiness, sufficient attention to God’s Word so you can always have something fresh to say on a Sunday, pastoral skills, a loving heart, endless administration and organising, the ability to work in isolation for long periods, evangelistic gifts, prophetic gifts, … It’s certainly not a job, or even a vocation.
Anna, you have a strong point about the context of being a pastor as the church leader, and therefore one with authority. Some people grow to love this, and eventually they need to be needed.
If we insist on putting these poor people onto such high pedestals, we should not be surprised when, more than occasionally, they fall off.