The Pastor and Pathological Self-Criticism

From the TGC blog, written by Jonathan Parnell . . . 

MINISTRY

Back in the early ’90s, Hall of Fame pitcher Nolan Ryan was hit in the mouth by a chopping grounder off the bat of Bo Jackson. He managed to pick up the ball and make the out at first, but blood began to trickle from his split lip. As his white Rangers uniform became soiled with red stains, a photographer snapped a picture that’s now iconic.

The picture captures Ryan staring into the catcher’s mitt completely undeterred. He’s not whining or flailing around on the ground in pain; he’s just doing his job—bleeding or not bleeding, it didn’t matter.

I have a print of the picture propped up by my desk. I bought it soon after becoming a pastor, figuring it might spur on the toughness I was told I’d need. His busted lip and resolve encourage me.

And yet, to my surprise, after three years at ground zero of pastoral ministry, I’ve learned that some of a pastor’s worst wounds are those he self-inflicts.

The Ryan-like grit we pastors need is often less about the sheep and more about withstanding our own thrashing thoughts. One day at lunch a friend called this pathological self-criticism. The phrase has sort of stuck.

UNDERSTANDING PATHOLOGICAL SELF-CRITICISM

“Pathological self-criticism” is apparently an actual thing in the academic psychology world, but I’m using the phrase loosely. For a definition, pathological self-criticism is the regular—and often obsessive—reexamining of our pastoral performance in order to discern its effectiveness and determine the ways it must improve.

I’m talking about the continual second-guessing of the things we do in service of others. I’m talking about that constant drip that wonders: If I said that differently, would more people have been helped? Would I have sounded less stupid? Would I not have gotten that email that lands a line or two of critique? Why can’t I stop thinking about this? Will I do it the same way next time?

Pathological self-criticism (PSC) isn’t simply being hard on yourself; it’s doing harm to yourself at the mental level—and it doesn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy. In many cases, at least in my judgment and limited experience, it stems from an ungrateful heart that depends on the validation of others. At its worst, pathological self-criticism becomes a neurotic scrutiny that lusts for misery in one’s insufficiency. It’s not simply faithlessness; it’s an assault on God’s grace. It may not blaspheme the Holy Spirit, but it certainly belittles him—which is why pastors must never make peace with it. If you are prone to it, stop. If you have dabbled with it, run and don’t look back.

HOW DO WE MAKE IT STOP?

We must get away from PSC because the more we sulk in it, the more comfortable we’ll become with it, and the harder it’ll be to recognize the next time.

But the problem is we don’t know how to make it stop. We hardly know where to begin. Assuming we know God’s glory is the great end for which he created the world, and assuming we fight for his glory to be the center of our heart’s desire, what do we do when those voices in our heads won’t stop talking?

There are no quick answers. This is deep work, and it takes time. But in the normal rhythms of life, when we don’t have an hour to bury every rogue thought, there is a handy threefold response that might help. When that voice starts back up, consider these three actions.

1. REJECT THE LIE THAT SAYS PATHOLOGICAL SELF-CRITICISM IS HUMILITY.

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We shouldn’t be fooled for a minute into believing that the opposite of self-criticism is self-esteem. PSC doesn’t mean—not in the least—that we pastors don’t love ourselves enough. In fact, it may exist because we love ourselves too much. PSC is the result of a mind stuck on itself—because we can only keep criticizing ourselves if we can’t get off ourselves. And what’s so dangerous, and so insidious, is that we can mistake this for being humble.

We imagine that the opposite of mental flagellation must be an over-inflated ego that expects everything we touch to turn to gold, and as long as we’re not that—as long as we keep reminding ourselves how pathetic we are—we can believe we’re poised to receive the grace God has promised to humility (James 4:6).

But we’re not, because PSC is not humility.

Humility is entirely different. Humility isn’t so much the denigration of self as it is the esteeming of something else greater than self. “He must increase, but I must decrease,” says John the Baptist (John 3:30). And the increase comes first, because he comes first. I decrease in light of him—and it’s decrease, not evaporate. I still do things, and must do things, in the grace that God supplies (see Phil. 2:12–13; 1 Cor. 15:10; 1 Pet. 4:10–11). And all of it is “from him and through him and to him,” not me (Rom. 11:36).

Further, humility compels courage and risk-taking for the gospel’s sake. PSC, in contrast, cowers in fear and circles the drain of “if only’s.” Really, PSC and humility are nothing alike, and it’s a shame how badly we’ve sullied the virtue of humility by mistaking it to be self-attack. No. No. No. That is not humility.

2. REMEMBER WEAKNESS IS AN ASSET WHEN GOD’S GLORY MATTERS MOST.

The greatest victory ever known was accomplished by the greatest humiliation ever seen of the greatest man to ever live. Because that’s how God designed it.

At the center of the gospel we proclaim is the cross of Christ. Everything in pastoral ministry revolves around that cross, which means everything in pastoral ministry revolves around the wisdom of God that confounds the wisdom of man:

But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. (1 Cor. 1:27–29)

As many times as I’ve rehearsed this truth, it’s embarrassing how often I still basically think God looks his best when I look mine. I still think God will use the sermons most where my tongue gets tied up least. I think the Spirit’s work is more powerful when my enunciation is more precise.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7 Paul mentions his “thorn in the flesh.” We don’t know what that was, but what if it was how badly he performed at something he thought mattered? Yet Jesus told him: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

His power in our weakness.

“Therefore,” Paul figures, “I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me” (2 Cor. 12:9). And here’s the thing: this really has to do with what you love the most. If you supremely love the glory of Jesus, it’s worth being weak for. If you supremely love looking great before others, find another job.

3. LAUGH AT THE DEVIL AND MOVE ON.

This is as holy an antidote as any, and it seemed to work against Screwtape. You may remember C. S. Lewis taught us this trick in the battle against pride.

Lewis explained that once the Christian is humble, the Devil tempts him with awareness of humility, and then he stumbles into pride—the Christian becomes proud that he’s humble. But then, when the Christian is awake to that danger, the Devil tempts him with pride in that wakefulness—the Christian becomes proud that he discerned how easily he can become proud in his humility. And it’s all a mess from here, stuck in your head with layers of pride it seems—except that Screwtape warned Wormwood that at some point the Devil must leave the Christian alone, “for fear you awake his sense of humor and proportion, in which case he will merely laugh at you and go to bed.”

Do you get what he’s saying?

Sometimes the thoughts are so constant, and so insatiable, that we have to just forget it and do the next thing. And one of the best ways to forget it, to make it stop, to move on, is to laugh.

And laugh sooner than later.

I don’t have time for that hamster wheel today. Ha! I’ve got to get to work on another imperfect sermon. Ha! I’m running late for this meeting that’s over my head. Ha! I’m so weak that my only chance of doing anything of any lasting good is if a God who can raise the dead works through me. And he does! He does! Hahahaha!

Jonathan Parnell is the lead pastor of Cities Church in Minneapolis–St. Paul, where he lives with his wife, Melissa, and their seven children. He recently wrote Never Settle for Normal: The Proven Path to Significance and Happiness. You can follow him on Twitter.

THE WORST THING YOU COULD SAY TO A PREACHER

The Punches I Never Saw Coming

Looking back on more than a decade of vocational ministry, the difficulties I anticipated are not the difficulties I have experienced. Would knowing these challenges in advance have helped me and my family to persevere through them? I'm not sure.

I do know, however, that I talk about them with every intern I oversee in the hopes their adjustment will be smoother than mine has been.

Attacks from Within

Maybe I was naive. I fully expected difficulty in pastoral ministry. But I expected the attacks to come from somewhere "out there" rather than somewhere "in here." I had no category for sheep who bite. Somehow I missed the fact that Paul suffered repeatedly at the hands of those who claimed the name of Christ (2 Timothy 4:9-18). Fellow Christians deserted him in a dark hour. Alexander did him "great harm." No one came to his defense when accusations were made. Almost every seasoned pastor I know has seen this playbook repeated in his life.

I wonder how many pastors are shocked when they get the first nasty e-mail telling them that they are not a good teacher, a poor fit for the church, or that the last pastor had real vision. I wonder how many enter vocational ministry realizing that some of the people they welcome for dinner, drink coffee with, and confide in will turn around and slander them, gossip about them, betray confidences, and even mobilize support against them.

Amid this hardship pastors must pray for the ability to love people and to walk into God's courts with them with mutual affection, having forgiven them as the Lord forgave, even if they must forgive over and over and over again. Pastors must humbly ask the Lord whether or not they have themselves sinned in the process, or if there is even the smallest validity to the accusations. When attacks come, the temptation is to circle the wagons and play defense. Not only does this approach shut down opportunities to heal your attacker with a Christlike response, but in licking your wounds you also can also easily cut yourself off from the rest of your sheep.

Nature of the Work

I worked my way through college doing manual jobs. There were plenty of days that I hit the pillow at night physically spent, my limbs aching. The beauty of that labor, though, was that I never took it home. This is not the nature of pastoral ministry, or many other careers for that matter. There are always more people to check in on. I have never written a sermon that wouldn't have benefited from another five hours of study, meditation, and prayer. There are always people who expect more of me than I can give. When I was planting hedges I dreamed of the day when I would get paid to disciple. I'm there. It's a gift. But it's a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Pastoring is like being a Gumby doll. You will get pulled in many directions and sometimes feel a limb will fall off. There are cards of encouragement to write, sick to visit, leaders to equip, lessons to plan, staff to mentor, couples to counsel, prayer to offer, weddings and funerals to perform, your own heart to tend . . . it never ends.

If pastors and their spouses will persevere in ministry they need to accept the nature of the work. If you don't, you will whine, resent your calling, and probably burn out and get out. The sooner you accept the fact that there will always be more to do, the sooner you can develop healthy expectations for yourself as well as boundaries for you and your family. Work with elders to develop a work/life balance plan. Strive to differentiate between a genuine crisis and a perceived crisis when your flock reaches out to you. I can't tell you how many times someone didn't really need to talk right away despite their desperate pleas.

The unending nature of the enterprise can become a blessed opportunity to trust in the sovereign God to magnify your small offering and make it enough.

When Money Runs Short

Money has been short for our entire ministry tenure, and at times we have allowed this lack to rob us of joy and discourage us in carrying out our calling. I didn't pursue vocational ministry as a means for wealth. I knew we'd have to be careful. I didn't have any idea, however, just how careful we'd need to be. How many of us have heard the quote, "Where God guides he provides"? There is faithful joy in following God forward out of our security, but there is a danger in abandoning wisdom in the pursuit.

Money struggles beset almost every discouraged pastor I know. They want to continue serving with teens but are tempted to "move up" because associate pastors get paid more. They can't afford to send their kids to some desired activity and feel like a bad dad. They're crippled with student loans.

Satan will use money to rob your joy and distract you from your calling. I have experienced and seen this temptation most often in relation to the family. It is one thing to be stoic when you're single and say you are willing to deny yourself for the cause of Christ. Will you feel the same way when you have kids? A wife? An elderly parent?

If pastors will persevere they must do everything possible to make good stewardship a priority as soon as possible. Most will never be rich as pastors, but with wise planning they can provide for themselves and their families. Do everything you can to graduate seminary without debt, even if it means taking longer to do it. Also, when interviewing for a job, be humbly honest about how much money your family needs. Don't shrink back from the truth, especially in an initial interview, because once you say yes to the salary it is hard to go back and ask for more. You will never be happy as a pastor if you feel like your calling prevents you from providing for your family.

Every statistic tells us that most pastors don't make it over the long haul in vocational ministry. I almost got knocked out because I didn't know where the punches would come from. Serving the Lord in vocational ministry is a crown. Being an elder is a noble calling. Being entrusted to shepherd the flock is a gift and a grace. See the danger and pray over it. Prepare for it, so that you will persevere in carrying this grace to completion.

Christopher Hemmerich is the lead pastor at Four Corners Church in Newnan, Georgia. He has done graduate work at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and Liberty Theological Seminary. Christopher loves hiking with his wife, laughing with his kids, and has a burden to help call and equip young people into faithful gospel ministry.

Why You Should Criticize Your Pastor

Jared Wilson is refreshing.  This past month has been Pastor Appreciation Month.  Usually what most pastors get is criticism, often times unrealistic expectations one has with their shepherd.   Here is some sage advice on how to criticize your shepherd and when not to criticize your shepherd!

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. – James 3:1

No, your church leaders are not above criticism. Sometimes they deserve it and need it. Here are some reasons you should criticize your pastor(s):

1. They don’t preach the gospel.
As in, they actually don’t preach Christ’s finished work. Not that they don’t emphasize the points you would or they don’t present the gospel the way you prefer or they don’t give an altar call or they miss this angle of the good news or that one or they don’t preach like Carson or Keller or Piper or Chandler — but that they actually don’t preach the gospel.
(Titus 1:9; Galatians 2:11-14)

2. They are regularly engaging in sins or unhealthy habits that would disqualify them from the office.
He’s cheating on his wife or engaging in other sexual immorality. He’s a drunk. He has no self-control. His reputation in the community is terrible. He’s inhospitable. He doesn’t know how to teach. He’s violent. He’s domineering or emotionally, verbally, or otherwise psychologically abusive. He’s argumentative. He’s greedy. He doesn’t take care of his wife and kids. He got saved recently. He does not submit to his authorities. He’s arrogant. He’s undisciplined or lazy. He doesn’t rebuke those who contradict sound doctrine, won’t correct heresy or protect the flock from wolves. He himself teaches doctrine in contradiction to the tenets of the historic Christian faith.
(1 Timothy 3:1-7; Titus 1:5-9; 1 Peter 5:1-8)

Well, that’s pretty much it. But that’s a lot and can be applied in a variety of ways.

Now, just because you are allowed to criticize your pastor doesn’t mean you are allowed to do it any way that seems right to you. So when criticism is merited, how should you criticize your pastor?

1. Gently.
2. Personally and privately, first. If necessary, personally and with witnesses, second.
3. Humbly.
4. Respectfully.
5. Graciously and lovingly.

And it bears mentioning that there are ways to have conversations with your pastor that sharpen him and encourage him toward improvements of various sorts without criticizing him. And there are ways to make suggestions without criticizing or complaining (but be sure you’re actually doing that, not being passive aggressive).

And it bears going the other way, too. Why should you not criticize your pastor?

1. He just kind of annoys you.
2. He’s not your best friend. (Or, for the ladies, his wife isn’t yours.)
3. He knows how to teach but he’s not as dynamic or animated or interesting as you’d prefer.
4. He makes decisions that aren’t the result of sin or unhealthy habits but are simply decisions that you wouldn’t make if you were in his shoes.
5. You think every critical thought needs to be expressed or that being the “loyal opposition” or “devil’s advocate” is normal.
6. You don’t understand something he’s done or said. (This would be cause to ask questions, not lodge complaints.)
7. He’s not ____________ enough. (See: political, creative, extroverted, entrepreneurial, rich, poor, outdoorsy, indoorsy, scholarly, etc.)
8. A bunch of other stuff the Bible doesn’t condemn or forbid.

This may all seem a little burdensome when you feel like you ought to be able to say whatever you feel however you feel whenever you feel it. But your pastor bears similar burdens. Keep in mind that he likely has multiple people with “helpful suggestions” speaking to him every week. Measure your thoughts out appropriately, choose the right hills to die on, and pray for your pastor. He needs it.

Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.
– Hebrews 13:17

Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.
– Galatians 6:1-2

  

Seven Things Pastors’ Wives Wish They’d Been Warned About

As a pastor, I found this article helpful and true.  Most pastors and wives are not equipped for the mind field of ministry!

By Thom S. Rainer

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I am especially grateful to have the opportunity to hear from pastors’ wives since much of my focus is on pastors. Our recent, informal survey simply asked the open-ended question: “What do you wish you had been told before you became a minister’s wife?”

Thank you to the pastors’ wives who were willing to give us such great feedback. And thanks to Chris Adams for doing the survey and to Amy Jordan for assembling the data.

The responses are in order of frequency. A representative comment follows each response.

1. I wish someone had told me just to be myself. “I am a people-pleaser by nature, so for me, not being prepared to handle being a pastor’s wife with my personality was a heavy burden to carry early in our ministry.”
2. I wish someone had prepared me to deal with criticism of my husband and me. “It was hard to deal with negative experiences, conflicts, or criticisms, especially in relation to my husband and our area of ministry. So I would harbor feelings of resentment when it came to ministry and my man.”
3. I wish someone had reminded me that my husband is human. “I wish someone had told me that my husband could not be God for me. I was disillusioned at first to find out that he indeed is just a man.”
4. I wish someone had told me that others were watching us (the glass house syndrome). “Even though they are watching us, we don’t need to be controlled by what they expect of us.”
5. I wish someone had told me there are some really mean people in the church. “I was really surprised. I had to learn not to pay too much attention to them or they would get me down.”
6. I wish someone had told me how much my husband needs me to build him up. “I need to be his cheerleader. Dealing with critics in the church is difficult. He needs to hear that I respect him now more than ever.”
7. I wish someone had told me that my schedule will never be normal again. “Your husband will be very busy. Expect that. But come alongside him in the areas of time management and organization.”

One pastor’s wife told us that her role was like getting a job for which she never applied. She wrote this funny script in her response:

Husband: “Honey, I got you a job today.”

Wife: “Really? Okay, but I wasn’t looking for a job. I have plenty to do here running the household and raising the kids. That was our plan, right? Me stay home with the kids so you could fully dedicate yourself to the ministry.”

Husband: “Yeah, yeah. But I really need you take this job for me.”

Wife: “Well, okay, just tell me what to do and when it needs to be done by, and I will do everything I can to make it happen.”

Husband: “Well, right now there are no specific responsibilities. Basically, it’s just doing anything at church that no one else steps up to do or wants to do.”

Wife: “Oh my, that is a tall order. Okay, I’ll do it. I guess we could use the extra money anyway. Things are always tight around here on a pastor’s salary.

Husband: “Well, actually honey, there is no salary . . .”

What do you think of these seven responses? What would you add?

photo by: Ed Yourdon