Five Tough Pastoral Pills
Sufficient water required
I’ve learned a lot of things in ministry, and I anticipate learning many more. As I was reflecting on some of those things, I decided to jot down a few of the harder “pills” I’ve had to swallow in the area of practical shepherding (not crisis situations or tragedies). Of course, the hardest pills I’ve had to swallow are largely a product of my personality, background, and personal experiences—this is not a list of “hard pills for pastors” but rather “Tyler’s pillbox” for others to look in on. Finally, much of what I have learned has been in conjunction with other pastors and their experiences; it would be a mistake to believe I learned all of this solely in the context of my local church. With those caveats in mind, here are five truths that I accept uneasily—sometimes nauseously—or that I at least wish I had grasped prior to entering pastoral ministry.
1. Many people change their theology, ethics or denomination for reasons that have nothing to do with the Bible (e.g., hurt and anger, relationships, aesthetics, or pragmatism)
I have a degree in analytic philosophy and love theology. I’ve been to seminary. I’ve published. Giving reasons and providing thoughtful arguments (or trying to) are my intellectual currency. I can barely imagine changing my view on an “issue” without compelling evidence and argument. You can imagine my shock, then, to discover that people in the church do this all the time.
Folks, it confounds me.
How many times have I seen someone change their view on biblical sexuality because a friend or family member came out of the closet? How many times have I seen someone change their view on gender roles in marriage because they witnessed or experienced an abuse of authority? How many times have I seen people drift into Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism, or Anglicanism on account of “beauty”? How many times have I seen a crying woman be more compelling than a good argument? How many times have I seen tribalism and solidarity be more theologically formative than biblical interpretation? How many times have I seen someone change their view on divorce because of the poor quality of their marriage or that of someone close to them? I could go on. The answer in every case is: far more than I ever imagined.
I remember a pastor friend once telling me that someone who loved literature came and asked him about the problem of evil. His answer: “What kind of author would God be if he didn’t write a villain and evil to be overcome into the story?” It was, apparently, the most compelling response this man had ever heard. I, on the other hand, immediately thought, “He would be an author who didn’t want terrible suffering and evil to exist.”
My consistent experience in ministry is that there are far more laity like the man in that example than there are people like me. Many people simply do not feel the weight of “three reasons and two arguments.” Blah blah blah. Don’t even think about referencing “the Greek” in an effort at course correction in such cases.
Feel. Experience. Beauty. Culture. In-groups. Family. Relationships. Ministry opportunities. Political alignment. Yearning for affirmation and acceptance.
All of these—in differing degrees—figure into the theological method of many people who confess the supremacy, clarity, and sufficiency of the Word of God. It’s a tough pill to swallow—and one that most pastors choke down more often than they would like to admit as they consider strategies for wise engagement.
2. Being indwelt by the Holy Spirit doesn’t mean that some people won’t have lower relational and emotional ceilings than others.
One mistake I fell into early in ministry was believing that a biblical doctrine of sanctification implied that everyone’s personal sense of well-being and relational capacity had the same ceiling. If there was a deficit here, sanctification was the answer. After all, the Spirit dwelt in them! Some of my very nouthetic friends probably still think this way.
But this way of thinking often confuses the goal of sanctification—transformation into Christlikeness—with altering certain capacities and dispositions that align more closely with personality and temperament than holiness. Melancholic personality types aren’t going to change into warm, bubbly people if they pray more fervently. Extroverts aren’t going to transform into introverts. People who don’t like to talk don’t become engaging conversationalists with Christian maturity. Same with people who can’t sit still for more than an hour. Marriages without good interpersonal chemistry may very well honor God but may not be feel delightful. People with very low emotional intelligence will always find relationships challenging. And so on.
By themselves, these things are not wrong—it’s not sinful to be socially awkward, or to naturally be more of an Eeyore, or to draw energy from social interaction rather than solitude. But the difficult pill to swallow is that these kinds of things often contribute to relational friction or downcast demeanors regardless of how mature in Christ such people may be. More holiness in these cases will not result in “improvement,” and exhortations toward that end will only discourage people and frustrate pastors.
The bottom line is that the wisdom required to navigate these challenges can’t be obtained at a weekend seminar where they offer a biblical counseling certificate.
It’s far tougher sledding, I’m sorry to say.
3. Your most mature people will rarely need your pastoral help.
Pastors are supposed to pastor people in their congregations. Duh. To pastor means to “shepherd.” So far, so good.
However, when the shepherd/sheep paradigm becomes the dominant framework by which a pastor approaches everyone in the church, a practical problem surfaces quickly: unlike sheep—who are relatively helpless, easily scared, and need to be led at every turn—many people in the church are very well-grounded, wise, mature, stable, and steadfast. So much so that a pastor may interpret their relative self-sufficiency as a reluctance to “be pastored” because they think they have it all figured out. “Why don’t they come and ask me about ______?”
This is a colossal mistake.
While on the leadership team at Dell before moving into full-time ministry, a leader imparted to me some invaluable wisdom about coaching and managing your top folks in corporate America:
Set clear objectives
Give them the tools required for success
Give them appropriate support, encouragement, and feedback
Get out of their way—they don’t need your help
I’ve found something similiar to be true in ministry. The most mature people in any church are very unlikely to require a great deal of hand-holding or regular counsel for the ins and outs of life. Instead, they want your prayers, your occasional check-ins, your hospital visits, your ability to work through very challenging things on occasion, and so forth.
Why is this a tough pill to swallow? Unlike the others, it’s only tough if your paradigm isn’t well-rounded and your approach to shepherding assumes that everyone desires or needs equal and identical attention. With this (errant) mindset, the most independent folks in a church can seem as though they don’t appreciate the pastor, don’t need him in any way whatsoever, or think they know better than him (even if sometimes they do). I’m very thankful to have swallowed this one early in ministry—it is the only pill on this list that, after passing through misconception and/or pride, very quickly turns sweet.
4. Some people will always judge your ministry on the basis of outside voices—you will never be their primary influencer.
Some people are skeptical of leadership and teaching in general. Some people listen to podcasts for hours each day. Some have very strong personal ties to a former pastor or a particular ministry. For reasons like these (and others), certain people will always evaluate your preaching, counseling model, discipleship paradigm, outreach strategy, and cultural engagement by how it lines up with their past influences and/or present external voices.
It won’t be most people, to be clear.
But the folks in this category are strong-willed, have a very high view of their own discernment, and simply trust other people more than you, at least in certain important areas. This generally will not change unless you conform to their expectations. Of course, there are exceptions.
Ironically, and related to the last point, one of the ways this can change is if the person or organization they have looked to as “the standard” experiences moral failure. Of course, the truth or falsehood of teaching has nothing to do with personal or organizational character, but for people in this category, sound teaching can’t endure beyond lack of integrity. At that point, you may be all they have left—and what an opportunity that is!
5. Men struggle to develop friendships and press into relationships (far more than women do)
I’ve always been an extrovert, enjoyed people, made friends easily, and joked that one of my spiritual gifts is hanging out. My experience is that most men, however—particularly married men—either (1) have very few, if any, friends or (2) struggle to make them (and sometimes 1 because of 2). Men tend to have lower degrees of emotional awareness than women and tend toward being relational loners. They may have had friends in high school or college, but developing new friendships is something that, for many men, all but evaporates after marriage and family. The research and surveys are conclusive.
Pastors know that women will show up to just about anything to talk, hang out, and develop relationships. Men, not so much. Some people at this point wonder what the problem is—aren’t men and women just wired differently? Well, yes and no. The problem is that we aren’t meant to be loners but to know others and be known in the context of relationships. Iron sharpens iron. A brother is born for adversity. And men shouldn’t feel gay when they read that David told Jonathan, “… very pleasant have you been to me; your love to me was extraordinary, surpassing the love of women” (2 Sam. 1:26).
Discipleship happens in relationships—it isn’t a mistake that Jesus spent three years with twelve men as His plan to reach the whole world. Many men would far prefer to believe that they can become spiritually mature behind their books and amidst their podcasts—they can’t. At best, they can become well-taught and self-disciplined. But the context for intentional love will always be relationships.
Some men deceive themselves into believing that their wife or children are the only “friendships” they need. This is just wishful thinking—men need friendships with other men, even if the circle is small. Many will resist this with every excuse under the sun.
It’s a tough pill.
Well there you have it—five pills from my pillbox with very little in the way of counsel about how to not choke on them. Don’t be discouraged, though; awareness is more than half the battle, and if you've pastored for a while, you probably spent most of your time nodding your head as you read this post because you're already aware.
I have more pills—care to share any of yours?
Spot on. These truths can go a long way in tempering unrealistic expectations among pastors and congregations.
Excellent.