âYOU ARE DOING THIS ALL WRONG,â Charlie said gently.
My spiritual director (or as I liked to think of him, my personal monk) sat there quietly, a kind smile on his face. His hands rested lightly on crossed legs. A flickering candle sat on the coffee table between us, and Charlieâs pronouncement seemed to hover in the air above the flame.
âYou have become a warehouse, storing and holding all the churchâs problems. But God never intended that. He intends you to be a warehouseman.â
Another couple had left our young church plantâone of the few families that had children. They loved the church but were concerned that our fledgling childrenâs ministry would not be able to adequately minister to their kids as they grew. I couldnât argueâwe were so new at this, and the church had just a handful of kids. Our plan was solid, and I was confident that as more families with children came to the church that it would be just a few years before we would have a robust ministry for kids. But how could I really know, and how could parents really know? And how will we ever get there if families with children wonât stick? I was discouraged and worried, and didnât know how we could escape the vicious cycle we found ourselves in.
Charlie sat patiently, a smile barely perceptible on his lips, content to let his words gain weight as we sat in the silence.
âWhat do you mean?â I finally asked.
âYou are holding onto all of the churchâs problems, Timâstoring them in your mind and heart as if your soul is a giant warehouse. But you arenât capable of holding all these concerns. Nor are you meant to be. God alone can hold the churchâs problems.â
Charlie paused again, his easy demeanor matching the counsel he was giving. âYou are not to be the warehouse that holds all the problems but a warehouseman. Your job is to get on your forklift, pick up the churchâs problems, set them down in the warehouse, and then drive away. As long as you try to do what only God can do, youâre going to be anxious and exhausted.â
Charlie paused, and then leaned forward for emphasis. âYou need to let yourself be the pastor, and let God be God.â
LEARNING HOW TO NOT BE GOD
Zack Eswine, in his important book The Imperfect Pastor, writes, âI became a pastor. But I didnât know how to be one. The Serpent saw this. He seized his opportunity. âYou can be like God,â he said. And I, the fool, believed him.â1
Part of me reads that line and resonates with it, while another part protests, âNo. I donât do that, do I?â Eswine goes on to detail the ways that we try to be everywhere for everyone (omnipresence), fix everything for everyone (omnipotence), and have all the answers for everyone (omniscience), and I realize just how much of my vocation as a church planter is my trying to do what I cannot possibly do.
Dr. Chris Adams is director of the Center for Vocational Ministry at Azusa Pacific University and a researcher for two of the largest studies on pastoral health to date. For one of these studies they contracted a consultant whose job it is to determine what competencies are needed for various marketplace jobs, and they asked him to evaluate the role of pastor. Recognizing that pastors wear of a lot of hats, he expected the list to be long, yet he came back shocked at his own findings: a staggering list of sixty-five core competencies a person needs to lead a church. âNo one can be good at all of these things,â he said. âThis is a setup to feel inadequate. Who would ever want to do this job?â
Adams reports that all this contributes to the danger of chronically elevated stress among pastors, which creates substantial wear and tear on a pastorâs mind and body over time. Pastors have higher rates of anxiety and depression than the general population. They have poorer lifestyle-related health markers, including higher rates of obesity, hypertension, diabetes, and metabolic syndrome. Research would indicate that at any given time, one-third of pastors are experiencing burnout and/or depression. Only one-fourth of pastors, Adamsâ research finds, finish well with vitality.2
Given the additional stressors for pastors engaged in the work of establishing a new church, there is good reason for church planters to pay particular attention to their need to intentionally learn to minister in ways that are healthy and life-giving. In addition to the typical list of pastoral duties, consider the complexities in a church plant:
Planters have the start-up responsibilities of an entrepreneur as well as regular pastoral duties.
The planter is most often a solo pastor, not part of a staff.
Church systems are not yet established, which means greater effort in nearly everything.
Many church planters have less accountability than established pastorsâeither to an elder board within the church or, for many, to denominational leaders.
Church planters have few (or zero) established leaders to share the work.
Planters face the constant pressure of wondering whether the church will make it.
Planters are not always appreciated by local colleagues, who often feel threatened by the presence of a new church.
THE ELIJAH SYNDROME
Recognizing our need is our first challenge. For most, the next challenge is to learn to receive care from God and those agents he would use in bringing us care. I find a good model for the kind of holistic care we need to receive from God in Elijah in 1 Kings 19.3
The real power in this chapter comes out when you contrast it with the chapter it follows. In 1 Kings 18, Elijah has just finished one of the most spectacular ministry moments in all of Scriptureâhis miraculous victory over the prophets of Baal. Against overwhelming odds, a defiant Elijah taunts his opponents in an epic showdown to see whose God or gods are the strongest. Fire literally comes down from heaven, and Yahwehâs victory is decisive, leaving no doubt as to who the real God is and what his power can accomplish.
Yet as chapter 19 opens, instead of finding Elijah elated and triumphant, we find him exhausted, discouraged, and fearing for his life. How can this be? the reader wonders. How can one experience such a display of Godâs power in one moment, then turn around and doubt his power in the next?
Our church members might scratch their heads, but pastors have no problem relating to this story. Pastors routinely find themselves physically and emotionally spent come Monday morning, a phenomenon Iâve actually heard referred to as Elijah Syndrome. The adrenaline dump that follows a significant ministry event can leave oneâs mind and body feeling heavy and sluggish. Thoughts of discouragement and inadequacy seem to carry more weight. Anticipation of the coming work week can feel daunting.
Intuitively, I would think that only the failures would drain us, while successful ministry ventures would be nothing but life-giving. Yet experience teaches us something different. Even good ministry can leave us depleted. Iâm learning to anticipate that after the adrenaline dump that follows a significant ministry event, I may find myself markedly tiredâphysically, emotionally, and spiritually. On those days, I should be especially cautious in trusting my already fickle emotions.
Thatâs where we find Elijah. Feeling depleted and defeated, he does physically what many of us do emotionally: âHe runs for his lifeâ (1 Kings 19:3). Elijah runs, traveling a full dayâs journey into the wilderness. There, echoing the sentiments of many ministers to follow, he yells at the heavens, âI have had enough! Take my life, I am no better than my ancestorsâ (v. 4). Then he lies down in the shade of a bush and falls asleep.
Do you hear any of yourself in Elijahâs cry? Iâve expressed to God, in slightly different words, each of his sentiments at one time or another:
Fatigue: âIâm exhausted, burned out! I canât go on doing this.â
Discouragement, tipping into despair: âThis job is sucking away my life! Iâd be too ashamed to quit, and I donât know what else I would do. But I need out. Please God, let me do something else.â
Self-doubt: âIâm not any good at thisâno better than those who have tried and failed before me. I certainly donât compare to [insert name of superpastor du jour]. Am I really accomplishing anything? I should quit ministry and become a banker.â
Into this struggle, God provides care for Elijah in four distinct waysâareas of care that we need as well.
Sometimes, the most spiritual thing you and I can do is take a nap.
Physical. âGet up and eat,â the angel says to Elijah. Elijah wakes to the smell of freshly baked bread next to a jar of water. And then we read what, for any who are acquainted with deep, heart-level fatigue and its accompanying discouragement, are some of the most beautiful words in Scripture: âHe ate the meal and went back to sleepâ (v. 6, MSG).
Sometimes, the most spiritual thing you and I can do is take a nap.
Before his death I had the opportunity to take a class with Dr. Dallas Willard. As a class, we stayed together for two weeks in a monastery, studying and practicing the spiritual disciplines. It was a life-changing experience.
âYour first assignment while we are here,â Dallas said on day one, âis to get ten hours of sleep each night.â Ten hours? We all looked around at each other, dumbfounded. This was a doctoral program, which required a ton of work, and also required that students be in full-time ministry. When could we even remember getting that much sleep? It sounded crazy. âIf you canât actually sleep,â he continued, âat least be in bed for ten hours, and spend the awake time reading and praying.â
The next morning at breakfast everyone groused about how difficult it was trying to sleep that much, how early you had to go to bed even to attempt it, and so on. The second morning we still groused, but most of us reported a slightly better experience. By day three, people were talking about feeling more rested than they were used to. By the end of the week we couldnât imagine going back to living on as little sleep as we had before.
The physical is spiritual. Do you notice that when Elijah is at his point of exhaustion, God doesnât even bother speaking to him? Before he does anything else, God just attends to Elijahâs basic, bodily needs: food, water, and sleep. I donât think it is too far of a reach to say that prior to this, Elijah is not even at a place where he can hear what God has to say to him.
Itâs a truth so simple that we easily forget it: you and I have a body. Everything we will ever do in Godâs service will take place in the body he has given us. Therefore, it is vitally important that we treat ourselves as human personsâbodily beings who simply cannot get on without proper rhythms of rest, work, hydration, and nutrition.
As noted above, the average pa...