Until I became a pastor about 16 years ago, I had no idea that faithful pastors should receive hazardous duty pay.
I was blessed to grow up in the home of a Southern Baptist family deeply devoted to church life: every part of our lives orbited around whatever went on in my childhood church. Our pastor was a close friend and seemed happy in his work. I’ve been around pastors pretty much all my life.
I probably assumed our pastor had an easy job. Preach a couple of times on Sunday. Lead a Wednesday night prayer meeting. Show up at a few churchwide events. Play a good bit of golf. Eat out with church members — often. Sounded like a good gig if you could get it.
I had no idea.
After nearly 15 years of pastoring, I can tell you it’s nothing like I thought it was when I was a church member. I sat in the pew for four decades never realizing the importance of Hebrews 13:17, that it wasn’t good for me as a church member if my pastor’s job was onerous: “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.”
Think about it: These men preach God’s Word for you each Sunday; they shepherd you week in and week out, and they will give an account at the last judgment for your soul. How sobering is that? Hebrews goes on to say that it is good for you, church member, if your pastor is able to carry out his calling with joy and not through gritted teeth.
Yet, the pastorate today is fraught with groaning.
A few years ago, a Christianity Today study showed that 1,500 pastors leave their churches each month due to burnout, intra-church conflict, or moral failure. CT’s research showed other grim numbers: 23 percent of current pastors have been fired or forced out of a pulpit, 34 percent now serve in a pulpit from which their pastoral predecessor was fired. Those figures cut across all evangelical denominations.
That survey came well before the COVID crisis. After serving as a pastor during the pandemic, I can’t imagine what those numbers might be today. Pastoring during COVID was like being hired to count all the grains of sand on a beach; it felt impossible.
Similar studies I’ve seen show that one in three seminary graduates will be out of ministry within three years of graduation and two in three after five years, never to return. Numerous surveys show that some 50 percent of pastors suffer from depression and anxiety, and pastoral suicides since COVID 19 are at an all-time high.
Why are pastors burning out, dropping out, and being driven out at such an unholy pace? As Paul David Tripp puts it in his excellent book, “Dangerous Calling” (see New and Noteworthy Books in this issue for a short review), the unique challenges of ministry in the 21st century make it an overwhelmingly difficult line of work — far more than most church members can imagine. Pastors are sinners called to preach and apply the gospel to themselves and the saved sinners whom God has called them to shepherd.
Church members, your pastor/elders need all the love and support you can give them. That’s why this month, Pastor Appreciation Month, our topic is built around Hebrews 13:17, a verse that meant little to me until I’d been a pastor for several years.
Here are a few things about pastors that most members may not know, things I learned about myself and the calling in my years as a pastor:
• Pastors often feel like they don’t have anybody with whom to talk about their problems or fears. The pastorate can be a lonely calling. Love and compassion from a congregation goes a long way toward soothing these sentiments.
• Pastors are hard on themselves and often feel like failures, particularly when compared to other pastors. Pastors are an insecure lot. “My church isn’t growing like brother so-and-so’s congregation,” or “I’m not seeing anyone coming to Christ like the church down the road,” or “I don’t think anyone is really listening to my preaching like they do John MacArthur or John Piper or my brother across town.”
• Pastoral families often live under unreasonable (and unbiblical) expectations. The wife isn’t necessarily gifted to be the church pianist or women’s ministry leader. She is not sinless. And she often hears the critiques of her husband first … and they hurt. His kids are sinners. God doesn’t promise that they will be converted under their dad’s ministry. They may behave like typical children at every stage of life, particularly during the teen years. Legend has it that a pastor’s kids tend toward unusual levels of debauchery. They do not; they’re just “normal” sinners.
• Monday is usually a hard day for pastors. He has just served the church all day on the Lord’s Day and is often exhausted and deeply disappointed with his sermon. He needs a note of encouragement or to be taken to play golf or to lunch or to do whatever hobby he enjoys. Monday is not the day to meet with him to complain about the preaching or his leadership or the youth pastor or the worship music or whatever is presently disturbing your peace about the church.
• A pastor is a man in the middle of his sanctification — just like you. He knows that he’s weak and that he’s a sinner. He needs the grace of the very Jesus he preaches, and knows that. Pray for him and don’t expect him to live a sinless life or to please you with every sermon or every leadership decision. Jesus was the only perfect man who ever lived. He got everything right so your pastor wouldn’t have to. Give him the grace and patience you’d want others to give you.
PASTOR APPRECIATION INDEED
This issue of The Courier is intended to encourage churches to love faithful, godly pastors well. There are several articles by former longtime pastors and pastoral family members that will help you in at least a small way to do this well. Now, go and love your pastors!