Pastors are not burned out. There, I said it. Now, let me tell you what I mean. In the pastoring world, we get a new round of bad news every few months. Many pastors have had a significant moral failure, deconstructed their faith to the point where they do not consider themselves a Christian anymore, succumbed to an addiction, and cannot continue. Or the worst news of all, some have even taken their own lives amid the pressure of their calling. Considering all the evidence, you are rightfully wondering why I say pastors are not burned out.
On the outside
Being a pastor is an inherently difficult task. What seems to outsiders as a relatively simple job is immensely difficult. The public part of our job is like a professional athlete or actor. The “performance” at church is fun and life-giving for most. The preparation, the visits, and the other random things that happen the rest of the time cause a lot of stress. But the real stress is when we try to be a part of a community that will not allow us to be real. We work tirelessly to build a community that loves, supports, and shows grace and mercy to each other. Yet we find ourselves just on the outside of it.
Some pastors believe the lie that they cannot allow the congregation to see who they are for fear that they will somehow fail them for not being perfect. Then there are congregations that expect the pastor to be some distant member who is unapproachable.
Two factors
The incongruent life of a public persona and the absence of life lived in a community are the real factors causing “burnout.” A person can live a bifurcated life only so long. If who you are on Saturday or Sunday morning does not align with who you are during the week, then you will inevitably fail. If the community that you serve is not an intimate part of your life, then you will fail.
These two factors plague many of us in our personal relationship with Christ. We want to keep Him at arm’s length. We desire to be a part of His community but fear getting too close to Him. This type of relationship with Christ will not last. We must choose whether to be fully known, or we will be wholly unknown.
I would love to tell you that I have a super-clean plan with actionable steps to remedy this, but I do not. This type of genuine community is hard. Not just for pastors but congregations as well. Inherently, everyone’s humanness will be on full display in this required intimate relationship. Wendell Berry hints at this in his masterpiece, A Place on Earth. “He never done a day’s work with us in his life, nor could have. He never did stand up in his ache and sweat and go down the row with us. He never tasted any of our sweat in the water jug. And I was thinking: Preacher, who are you to speak of Tom to me, who knew him, and knew the very smell of him?”1
If we reject or are denied the genuine need of community, we die. Our impact is immeasurable when we embrace our place in the very community we are called to build and are allowed to be a part of. The life we live will be full of purpose and reward. Yet it will still be scary and hard.
- Wendell Berry, A Place on Earth: A Novel (San Fransisco, CA: North Point Press, 1983), 154.