I haven’t written a blog post in several months because, honestly, it is discouraging to not get any responses and thus have no way of knowing how people are reacting to what they read here and whether or not the reflections I share are helpful to anyone. Today, however, I came across a website that identifies 53 different possible causes of clergy burnout, and was motivated to share the link in hopes of generating some discussion. You can read the full list here.
One cause of clergy burnout that I think is particularly significant, and widespread, is this one: “Because of perfectionistic expectations, denial, pride, and fear of telling anyone about their real weaknesses, failures, fears, stresses, and discouragements, pastors are some of the least likely to seek help – from counselors, doctors, friends, co-workers, or even from ministries like PastorCare.” As a pastor, I know that no matter how I really felt about how things were going, I wanted my parishioners as well as my colleagues to see me as confident and competent, able to handle whatever challenges came my way. There were very few people that I was close enough to and trusted enough to share my personal struggles and feelings of inadequacy. Usually, I felt the need to keep my own emotions (especially sadness or anger) in check, and always be the calm, cool professional with an enlightened spiritual perspective on every issue.
I’d really like to know what you think. Do you believe that each item affects every pastor at some point, to some degree? If not, what makes some pastors able to avoid a particular risk factor, or handle it better than others? Of the many causes listed, which ones do you think are the most significant stressors that can lead to clergy burnout? Are there others you can think of that are not listed? Most importantly, how do you cope with those stressors and what could other pastors, church members, and denominational officials do to help support you when you are feeling overwhelmed?
I subscribe to the Alban Institute’s newsletter, and was surprised to see an article there entitled “The Need for Stress and Conflict.” My first reaction was, “Gee, most pastors I know have plenty of stress and conflict in their lives and would gladly give it to anyone who thinks they *need* some.”
However, as I read and reflected on the article (which you can read here), I realized that both individuals and organizations do in fact need some degree of conflict in their lives – it’s impossible for us to grow otherwise.
Think about any relationship that is important to you – your relationship with a spouse, best friend, parent, or child, for instance. Has that relationship always been free of stress and conflict?
I’ve been happily married for almost 19 years now, and I can assure you that during that time there have been periods of stress and conflict. I don’t think it’s possible to have a healthy relationship without it, because different human beings are inevitably going to have different wants and different opinions about the best course of action at some point.
As the Alban article points out, sometimes bringing up an issue that others are avoiding stirs up conflict, but that conflict is a necessary part of considering various options and moving forward into an uncertain future.
When has conflict been a difficult but necessary part of your life or your congregation’s? How have you benefited from the experience?
These days, when I use the word “saints” in conversation, I’m usually referring to the football team. I grew up in New Orleans, and the Saints will always be my home team. If they beat the Vikings, the Saints will be in the Superbowl for the first time ever.
“Saints” is not just the name of my favorite team, though; it is a word of great religious significance. While it can refer to anyone – we are all both saints and sinners – it is most often used to refer to people we admire for their strong faith, exceptional generosity, and willingness to give up a lot, sometimes even their lives, in order to do what God calls them to do.
I met a saint in church this morning. We had a guest speaker, The Rev. Bob Graetz, who spoke of his experience serving as a white pastor of a black church in Montgomery, Alabama, at the time of the bus boycott. Pastor Graetz lived across the street from Rosa Parks and knew her well. He encouraged his parishioners to participate in the boycott and told them to call him if they needed a ride.
That support led some whites to consider him a traitor to their race, and he received hundreds of threatening letters and phone calls. His house was bombed three times.
Of course, like most saints, Pastor Graetz is a humble man who credits God with giving him the courage to speak up publicly despite the risks. His message was that God has given all of us gifts meant to be used for the common good.
As he spoke, I found myself wondering what I would have done in his shoes. Today, it is easy for me to speak out against racism or the unjust treatment of any other group of people for any reason. I’ve been verbally attacked for my “liberal” views, both in person and in print, but never had to fear for my safety. If speaking out meant risking getting beat up or murdered, and also endangering my family and friends, would I still be so bold? I’d like to think so, but I’m not sure I would.
It’s easy for me to judge those pastors and other Christians from earlier generations who actively supported slavery or segregation, or at least chose to play it safe and not speak out against those practices. I also have a negative view of the Christians in Nazi Germany who either bought into the idea of Aryan superiority or stood by mutely as innocent people were killed by the thousands.
It’s not so easy to admit that there are times, even when all I have to fear is social disapproval or a heated argument, that I choose to keep silent in the face of injustice.
I thank God for people like Martin Luther King, Jr., Rosa Parks, Bob Graetz, and the many others through the years who have fought for what is right, even when they had to risk their lives to do so, and pray that God will give me the courage to do the same.
Recently, I came across an article in U.S. News and World Report which listed being a member of the clergy as one of the top 50 careers for 2010. You can read it for yourself here.
Given the rather dismal statistics about clergy health I have read elsewhere, and the number of pastors who get burned out and leave parish ministry, I was surprised by this. It also made me wonder if, given the fact that my company focuses on helping stressed out pastors find healthier ways of coping with the demands of the job, I have become too focused on the negative aspects of this profession. After all, there is great satisfaction (at least there has been for me) in doing things like comforting a dying person and their grieving family, preaching a sermon that is praised as thought-provoking and inspirational, or counseling someone during a time of crisis.
I wonder what percentage of clergy truly love their work, at least most of the time, and would gladly choose the same career if they had it all to do over again. Obviously those who choose to comment on this blog post do not constitute a statistically valid representative sample, but I’d still like to know, if you are a member of the clergy, whether or not you would make the same career choice if you had it to do over again, knowing what you know now, and why or why not. Please take a moment to share your answer by leaving a comment.
Ask any pastor, and he or she will confirm that toxic parishes exist. He or she may well have served one at some point. To be fair, there are certainly toxic pastors out there as well, though it tends to be easier to address that problem than it is to deal with toxic parishes.
What is a toxic parish? I define it as a parish that is so embroiled in conflict and unwilling to make the changes necessary to move toward health that it actively sabotages or passively resists all attempts to engage in meaningful ministry.
Of course, there are varying degrees of toxicity, and in some situations the right pastor can transform a conflicted, dying congregation into a vibrant community of faith. Is there a point, though, at which denominations should simply refuse to send another pastor to a parish with a long history of chewing up and spitting out its pastors? Does the denomination have any responsibility to forewarn pastors about a parish’s history of conflict, or to provide financial or emotional support to pastors who are forced to leave dysfunctional congregations?
One vicar in England thinks it does, and he is suing his diocese for not exercising its “duty of care.” You can read more about it by clicking here.
What do you think? Please add your comments below.