“Why Didn’t You Say No?”

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A Closer Look

Last week I explained why I left vocational ministry:

3. Too much undeserved criticism.

2. Too few healthy limits for myself.

1. To fulfill my true purpose; God's original call was to serve outside the church.

After I left, friends said, “You should've said no more often." I heard their care and concern. Actually, many times I said no, but I always wondered who'd get upset -- and how much. Remember, no standards exist to define when a preacher has done enough.

The "Take Care of Us" Pasture

In a recent Zits comic strip, Jeremy tells his friend Pierce, “My parents are on a new budget. I think it’s a good thing for my family to cut back on expenses…as long as it doesn’t affect me.”

The average believer doesn't set out to place the last straw of expectation that breaks the pastor's back. Sheep typically aren't out to destroy their shepherd. Still, the "take care of us" pasture most flocks graze in leads many parishioners to act like Jeremy. “My minister is on a new schedule. I think it’s a good thing for the preacher to cut back on work…as long as it doesn’t affect me.”

One Saturday night I ended a marathon week with a killer headache. I had a choice: stay home and rest to be ready to preach the next morning; or go into town to attend a function involving one active family who always sent me cards for Christmas, birthday, and Pastor Appreciation. They were counting on me to show up to support them. But that night, self-care took priority.  

The bad timing wasn’t their fault. The lambasting headache wasn't my fault. Problem solved, right?

Setting limits as a minister isn’t like saying no to a telemarketer. I can turn away a sales pitch without a backlash. But when I said no to work and yes to myself, I paid dearly.

After my Sunday obligations, I called the family to follow up. They were so frosty over the phone that it took a home visit to mend the fence. I spent more effort with the aftermath than if I'd crawled off the couch and gone. They knew I'd served a slew of other congregants that week and were miffed I didn't serve them too with my presence.

Today when I tell my senior minister to take care of himself, I don't add an unspoken, “…as long as you care for me first.” If the preacher can miss contacting others in order to practice self-care, why can't he miss contacting me sometimes? Why should I be dissatisfied with calls and visits by other Christians unless the pastor also comes?

The New Testament never portrays godly congregations as being religious consumers who are entitled to around-the-clock chaplaincy from one soul. I hold in high regard those laity and clergy who see the human leader of the church as a person, not as the Trinity-on-Demand. 

Balance. Everyone says it's a good thing. But I find balance to be an elusive target. No two people agree on its location or its timing.

So, either we grow in our current situation, or we change situations so we can grow. In the end, I saw only one good choice: the one that set me free to soar.

David