I had an interesting conversation after worship this Sunday. A respected gentleman took me aside and said, "Pastor, I've wanted to say something to you because I follow your blog. I don't think you've got burnout. When you've burn out, you've got nothing left. I think you've flamed out. There's still plenty of fuel down there, and you've got a lot left in the tank."
I think the guy is dead on. He knows. He's been doing the same work for over 30 years, and he admitted he finally burned out. There was nothing left. He was in the process of retiring because he had nothing left to give.
I know technically, this is a matter of semantics. Burnout is the common terminology used for someone who has reached a point of physical, mental or spiritual exhaustion due to prolonged stress or frustration in the environment where the person works or spends much of his/her time.
Recently, we clergy have experienced a lot of it. It wasn't always the case. In the past few months, even some highly visible sources of information have begun talking about it:
NPR
The New York Times
The New York Times again
Huffington Post
I think most of my colleagues would agree with me in stating we love doing the Lord's work, but it's awful hard. Nearly all of us have a passion and a desire to follow Jesus' instructions and strive to imitate Him while striving to care for His flock. There is something that burns within us all (the Holy Spirit) which compels us to work in this profession, and we mostly strive to do our absolute best.
Yet, despite this burning, we grow weary. We grow frustrated. Part of it is our own expectations of what we would like to see happen. We want our congregations to grow. We want them to thrive. We want them to become places where God's Word is "living and active and sharper than any two edged sword." Most of us want dynamic places of worship; active youth and Sunday School programs; people who genuinely care for one another and for those who are not members of our churches--who embody the attributes of Jesus; and people who care enough about one another to work through differences with each other. We envision communities of faith which revolve around God's Word and Sacraments; communities which produce people of character and hope. We long for such things. We toil for such things. We sacrifice for such things. We invest our time, talent, and treasure in our congregations hoping some of our passion will rub off and folks will catch the vision of God's Kingdom as we strive to articulate it and put it into practice in our own daily lives.
And we watch, sometimes in horror, as it seems like our words and our actions have very little impact.
Most congregations continue to decline.
Some grow, level off, and then start to decline.
Some simply hold steady.
For the most part, we clergy blame ourselves and we think we aren't working hard enough. So we redouble our efforts, and before we are even aware of it, we crash: physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Burnout. Flameout. Whatever. It's all the same.
But the fire within us doesn't die. We're still passionate about God. We're still passionate about His work, but we wonder why it seems like few share that passion. We wonder why people consistently choose other things over worship and Christian education. We wonder why when we offer forgiveness and overlook peoples' faults some members of our flock hold onto grudges and refuse to worship because of something we might of said or some other member of the church said to them. We wonder how and why congregations go from enthusiastic about helping their communities to turning inward and bickering amongst themselves. We wonder how and why congregations reach a certain point and refuse to grow any more. And most of us, because we haven't lost the fire, begin searching for some place else to rekindle those flames. Few try and stay to work it out in their current congregations. It's just easier, especially since one feels like one has nothing left to give.
But is it possible for those flames to be rekindled? Is it possible for pastors and congregations to recognize such things together? Is it possible for pastors and congregations to examine themselves and realize they are both share culpability when it comes to this phenomenon of clergy flaming out? Is it possible for each to change the way they respond and act?
I frankly don't know the answers to those questions. They are bigger than me. What I do know about myself is this:
#1. I'm nowhere near the nasty place I was at several months ago.
#2. Neither am I fully healed.
#3. The fire still burns deeply and passionately within me to do the Lord's work.
#4. I've had to look at myself and define what I believe the Lord needs me to do and how that plays out in my life as a pastor, as a father, and as a husband.
#5. I've had to look at what I am doing and not doing in my congregation, and I've had to redefine my role in light of #4.
#6. I have no idea if the steps I am taking will make any difference what-so-ever.
#7. But doing something different (#6) is better than trying to do the same things over and over and expecting different results.
#8. What those results will be, I have no idea. It's all in the Lord's hands.
#9. If indeed, I have managed to place it all in the Lord's hands, everything will be o.k. and the flame will be rekindled.
#10. I'd prefer not to think of the alternative if #9 isn't true.
No comments:
Post a Comment