Editorial:
Why you should love your minister
If, when you turn to Heather
Tomlinson’s investigation of how much
we pay our pastors (Pay Day, p28)
you’re expecting an incendiary exposé
of the lavish lifestyles they live, then I’m
afraid you’ll be disappointed. You’ll have
to go elsewhere for stories of gold-plated
toilet seats and private jets and so on,
because the truth of the matter is that most
of our church leaders aren’t paid very much
at all.
You might ask why we’re even looking
into it – what business is it of ours what we
pay our ministers?
While I can’t imagine that anyone
who goes into the ministry does it for the
money, how much you pay someone does
send a very concrete message about how
much you value them. Salary feeds into
the much larger issue of how well we look
after our church leaders, financially and
otherwise.
Often, ministers are expected to be
everything – great orator, administrator,
counsellor, organiser, encourager, visionary,
healer… whereas the truth of the matter
is that most are either good at the ‘big
picture’ stuff or the details, not both.
For most of them, their overarching
vision is to see the kingdom of God
coming in one way or another. They will
rarely be excited about, or indeed trained
for, the management of a building or an
organisation, but it takes up a lot of their
time and energy.
So we set them up to fail by placing on
them an extraordinary and terrifying level
of expectation, and then we don’t hesitate
to say when they have disappointed us.
And what are the effects on the leaders?
Either they develop so thick a skin they
can’t hear any criticism anymore, legitimate
or otherwise, or they crumble under the
weight of all the negative feedback. Some
learn to pretend to be omni-competent,
and refuse to show their failings, creating a
dishonest and unrealistic model of life for
the whole congregation.
In extreme cases it leads to breakdown
or burnout. I’ve witnessed what having a
nervous breakdown can do to someone and
it isn’t good.
So here’s what I’m suggesting instead.
Accept imperfection. Your minister
undoubtedly gets things wrong, drops the
ball, says things which are theologically
questionable, sends the congregation to
sleep, interferes when they shouldn’t, and
doesn’t get involved when they should.
But, apart from a few extreme cases,
they want to do the right thing, they
just can’t please everyone all of the time.
My own minister quoted Bill Cosby in a
sermon recently, who said: ‘I don’t know
the key to success, but the key to failure is
trying to please everybody.’
So expect your leader to do things you
disagree with. Expect them to disappoint
you. But keep on loving them and cheering
them on anyway, holding that together
with the thought that it could be you
who’s wrong.
It isn’t about ignoring your minister’s
failings. If anything it is about recognising
them, being ok about them, and helping
the church find ways to compensate for the
gifts they don’t have.
As it’s the new year, why not make
one more resolution? Think of one thing
you could commit to doing to make your
minister’s life easier.
Pray for them. Bring them cakes. Send
them on retreat. Stand up for them if you
hear other people moaning about them.
Email them to tell them you enjoyed the
sermon. Thank them, without agenda, just
for being them, and serving you and your
church every week. Ask them how they
are. Encourage their development. Respect
their day off (and that means leaving them
properly alone, not bothering them with
‘one quick thing’). If you see that a lot of
their time and focus is being used up on
one or two tricky issues at church, offer
to help.
Above all, remember that the way you
behave and serve is the inspiration that
what they are doing is worthwhile. There
are no SMART goals for seeing people
grow in love, faith and wisdom, but for
most church leaders, that is the reward.
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