January 27th:
I have been living in a delusion.
I have always said (mostly to myself) that I am too sensitive to do the work that I do. I take everything personally. Complaints and criticism make my stomach roil. I am always ready to quit on Monday. All of these things together had me thinking that I was unsuited for the work I do and I had begun to wonder why God had called me to this particular service.
Then, some years ago I read an article that suggested that Mondays were the most natural day for pastors to take-off because, doing what they do on most Sundays means that on Mondays, they are going through adrenaline withdrawal. The symptoms include physical exhaustion and depression. So, apparently the Monday “thing” was a “natural” drug induced state of dissatisfaction. Who would have guessed?
And then I began to realize that when we decide to care we also decide to be disappointed and dissatisfied and discontented. It happens like night follows day. It sounds redundant (and it is) but if I don’t care then I DON’T CARE. People can do whatever they want, believe whatever they want and act out in whatever way they choose and it will mean nothing to me. But, on the other hand, when I care, then I CARE and it hurts when people hurt themselves and others. It hurts when people manipulate and abuse the people around them. It hurts when people walk away from a God who has loved them. It should hurt.
Years ago, I was trying to minister in one particularly difficult congregation and every day I had to deal with complaints and criticism. In the midst of this turmoil the Staff-Parish Relations Committee chairperson said to me that I should just learn to not care so much. My response was, “Do you really want a pastor who doesn’t care?” The answer should be obvious.
At the time, the pain of those personal attacks was so constant that I missed the obvious lesson. Anyone who really cares will risk the possibility of being hurt. This is not “bad,” it just is. This is not “pleasant,” it just is.
I decided that I have to choose. I can either care (with all of its attendant pain) or I can protect myself and let people go to hell (literally and figuratively.) I choose to care. Which means that I won’t always be happy and I will never be satisfied with my performance. Let’s call it “holy discontent” or “compassionate dissatisfaction,” but let’s recognize that it is indeed the cross we have been called to bear.
Mondays are, indeed, the roughest day of the week by a landslide.
ReplyDeleteThank heaven there are people out there like you who do really care. It's so easy to just go through the motions and be in it for ourselves. I have to remind myself all the time that my disappointment is just a mirror of expectations I set for things outside myself. Are expectations just another version of caring, or something else entirely?
People will judge the good, the bad, the ugly, the perfect, the business that isn't their business. We are all guilty of it, and it is the most obvious indication of internal struggle resisting personal responsibility.
The bigger your heart gets, the more it will hurt. Everyone who knows you feels your love and sincerity. I would guess that when you come across those feisty congregations through the years, there's probably just that much more pain within them that your sensitivity is reaching out to.
But in this situation, I like the rapper's take: Don't let the haters get you down.
Perhaps it's comforting to know that you are in really good company. Despite their deity status, I have no problem picturing God and Jesus weeping at times over how people behave -- especially some of the really crummy things that are done in their name.
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