People, Expectations, Reality... Let them...

When God Seems to Fail

Jim had been a pastor since he was twenty-six, and for twenty years he tried to live up to the expectations of the congregations he pastored. Jim would be at the hospital early in the morning for members' surgeries and out late at night visiting prospects. However, Jim could never live up to expectations. He was forty-six years old when his twenty years of ministry began to take their toll. Jim began to experience increasing periods of depression.

Jim's last pastorate had become increasingly difficult. His depression was worsening and lasting longer when "they" asked to meet Jim to discuss his performance and "their" expectations. During the meeting, Jim told "them" that he was wrestling with depression, but the confession had no effect. Instead, "they" asked Jim to prove his point, so a second meeting was scheduled. At the second meeting, Jim gave "them" a letter from his attending physician that confirmed his depression. After reading the letter, "they" proceeded to move toward a change in leadership. Jim could resign, or "they" would recommend that he be asked to leave. Jim took the former.

Whatever expectations Jim had for understanding and care from the church was of no benefit. The nine years that followed were tough on him. He found himself having to rethink his understanding and relationship to the church. Jim also had to re-imagine a God who made sense. If the church had left Jim feeling abandoned, God had done so, too.

Nothing Harder

There is nothing harder for a pastor than feeling abandoned by God--nothing more hateful, nothing more hurtful than feeling all alone: "I'm a bucket kicked over and spilled; every joint in my body has been pulled apart. My heart is a blob of melted wax in my gut. I'm dry as a bone, my tongue black and swollen. They have laid me out for burial in the dirt.… You, God--don't put off my rescue!" (vv. 14-15, 19a).

Faith Reimagined

Jim and his wife were driving to the mall when Jim's wife said, "Jim, I hope that when you get through this, your faith will be intact." Jim quietly replied, "It will; you just won't recognize it."

It was a difficult lesson, but Jim learned that church went on without him. More personally, Jim learned that he needed to move on, too. Jim also had to come to terms with God. Eventually, Jim was able to see God again--differently, but no less real: "He has never let you down, never looked the other way when you were being kicked around. He has never wandered off to do his own thing; he has been right there, listening" (vv. 23-24).

Everything Is Good

After nine years, Jim is a pastor again. In many respects, he is a better pastor than he was before, for he understands the limits of "pastoral care" and congregational utilities. He has learned to set boundaries between himself and the congregation, a clear set of expectations for which he is responsible.

If you were to talk with Jim, he would tell you, with a sense of hard-fought wisdom, "Everything is good": "Here in this great gathering for worship I have discovered this praise-life. And I'll do what I promised right here in front of the God-worshipers. Down-and-outers sit at God's table and eat their fill. Everyone on the hunt for God is here, praising him. 'Live it up, from head to toe. Don't ever quit!'" (v. 25).

A Note to Colleagues

Before you wear yourself out by getting up early and going to bed late, trying to fill an unrealistic number of expectations, remember the church's utility. Take care of yourself. Set boundaries.

A Note to the Church

Let them.

Jeffrey Wisdom is a native of Charlotte, North Carolina, where he met his wife, Brenda, in 1975. Married in 1979, Jeffrey and Brenda have two children, Sarah and Iain, and live in Matthews, North Carolina. Jeffrey has served five congregations in North Carolina and presently serves as the chair of humanities for the University of Phoenix Colleges for Arts and Sciences, Charlotte Campuses, Charlotte, North Carolina.