Unspoken Expectations (or “when the should hits the fan”)

There are a number of unspoken expectations on a pastor, and, like most unspoken expectations, they are not fair.

Think of all the things many people believe their pastor should do:

  • Preach every Sunday unless he is gone
  • Visit the hospital for every person in the congregation, and their siblings, and their friends, and their sibling’s friend’s dog’s niece.
  • Be available 24/7
  • Live in a constant state of grace, understanding, patience, acceptance
  • Not live in a state of grace, understanding, patience, and acceptance when it comes to certain sins
  • Have a perfect family consisting of three well-adjusted children who have memorized the Psalms and a wife who plays piano.
  • Be content. At $30,000 a year and no retirement. With $120,000 in student loans.
  • Know the name of every person who crosses the threshold of the church, their kids’ names, their occupations, and their pets’ names.
  • Lead singing and play guitar.
  • Be able to tell them where “that one verse that goes something like” is.
  • Drywall.

These unspoken expectations are a big steaming pile of should, and I step in it frequently. Unfortunately pastors do not find out they stepped in the should pile until enough of it has built up that it hits the fan and some congregant or another calls a meeting. Then the should really flies as a person hits the pastor with a long, sometimes well-documented, list of shoulds that the pastor failed to perform, none of which were in his job description.

Unspoken expectations ruin relationships and battle against authenticity as pastors are made to tread cautiously, not wanting to inadvertently make a mess. Pastors should work against this by leading with boldness and not out of fear, but their congregation can help by clearly communicating what is expected and accepting some responsibility when a pastor steps in a pile of should.

Beneficial Brokenness (or “why it is good to be burned out”)

The soul-shattering, heart-crushing initial moments of brokenness are the things of pastoral nightmares.  The ornate rug of pride (we call it acknowledgment of God’s blessings), self-righteousness (we call it discernment), and arrogance (we call it confidence) is pulled from beneath our well-polished Sunday shoes and we find ourselves on our backs, looking up at the ugly face of reality.  The world has an axis and in such moments we rediscover the uncomfortable reality that it is not us.  The impact leaves us breathless, stunned, hurting.

During such moments we feel hopelessly ruined, gravity has shifted and what was up will now be down for all of time.  The recovery does come, but slow.  And this is where we find truth  in the biblical paradox: last really is first, weak really is strong, broken really is whole.  The swift knock to our far too large heads brings clarity, the godly perspective: we really are not capable of anything by ourselves.  Our sin-soaked, self-seeking hearts are addicts of praise, we are glory thieves, we hoard what we were never intended to receive.  When we glimpse the divine perspective we are convicted, which leads to confession, which leads to repentance, which leads us to a place where we can worship “in spirit and in truth”, and when we worship we can truly minister properly.

Nancy Leigh DeMoss said, “It is a wonder what God can do with a broken heart, if He gets all the pieces”, and it is when we are on our knees after being put on our backs that we learn exactly how true her words are.  Being burned out means relying on God, and there is no substitute for such a powerful position of weakness.

Venomous Sheep Bites (or “people hurt pastors”)

Dwight L. Moody is credited with saying something like, “Ministry would be great if it weren’t for all the people”.  I’ve never heard the context of this quote, and I’ve seen it in various forms, but it’s been spread throughout the ministry subculture for a reason: People suck.  Some doctrines are discussed but never observed (think angels on the head of a pin), but the dogma of man’s inherent sin is readily visible in any church pew (or mirror, for that matter).

The fact is people tend to feel the liberty, even the invitation, to openly criticize their pastors at will and without regard for the impact their words may have. Favored critiques include comparisons to previous pastors, pastors of other churches, and pastors on TV’; quantities of humor, altar calls, mission trips, offerings, and sermons; length of messages, prayers, and their wife’s skirt; and how well the pastor cares for them, their children, their nieces, their great-aunt’s-friend’s-cousin’s-dog’s-lover.  The criticisms voiced openly are enough to advocate a lockable prayer closet, but it’s the criticisms spoken behind closed doors and learned of later that really tempt the pastor to dunk parishioners just a little longer than necessary during baptism services.

Gossip is a cancer, and harsh criticism is a sure way to demotivate even the tireless of pastors. Why do Christians tear one another down? Why do we tread on the servant-leaders God Himself has assigned as our authority? Pastors all over the world are being burned out, exhausted, and discouraged by the words of those they sacrifice so much to serve.  Matthew recorded Jesus’ teaching on the appropriate approach to conflict, I think maybe we should go with Jesus on this one. If you’ve got a problem with your pastor, maybe you should give him a call.