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Corrosive criticism

Over the years of teaching seminarians and leading them later in continuing education seminars, I have come to realize that we have not prepared clergy to handle criticism.

Nothing seems to demoralize clergy more than personal and professional criticism. It hurts. It throws us off balance. It causes us to question our competence. Long after the initial sting there lingers a smoldering resentment that a parishioner could be so unloving, unjust, and unfair. This resentment grows and deepens in the absence of offsetting affirmation and praise. Often, too, the resentment festers when there is no one to talk to about the injustice except one's life partner who must also endure the insult and pain.

Over the years of teaching seminarians and leading them later in continuing education seminars, I have come to realize that we have not prepared clergy to handle criticism.

Nothing seems to demoralize clergy more than personal and professional criticism. It hurts. It throws us off balance. It causes us to question our competence. Long after the initial sting there lingers a smoldering resentment that a parishioner could be so unloving, unjust, and unfair. This resentment grows and deepens in the absence of offsetting affirmation and praise. Often, too, the resentment festers when there is no one to talk to about the injustice except one’s life partner who must also endure the insult and pain.

Frequently I have heard such criticism dismissed: “If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.” Or, “You’re too sensitive. You have to develop a thicker skin.” Or “I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” Oddly, such insensitivity becomes a “second” abuse and far from mitigating the pain, actually exacerbates the suffering.

There are clergy who are rejection-sensitive and whose ability to reality-test about where the problem resides may be compromised by past trauma.  But this is rare in my experience.  Without exception and regardless of denomination, age, or experience, clergy report the demoralizing effect of chronic criticism, the kind of criticism I am calling “corrosive.”

Corrosive criticism differs from constructive criticism, in which the recipient is viewed as an object of love. The aim of constructive criticism is the spiritual growth of the one to whom the criticism is directed. Here love is understood as “the energetic expenditure of one’s self for the spiritual growth of another.” Constructive criticism builds up the minister and the body of Christ and is an inevitable consequence of “life together.”

Clearly no minister can perform every aspect of ministry well, all of the time. Since ministry encompasses many skills (teaching, preaching, pastoral care, administration, etc.), it is an unavoidable reality of ministry that even the most conscientious minister will have weak spots that need attention. As already noted, unless a minister is unusually sensitive or traumatized, she will appreciate the kind words of a parishioner who wishes her growth. In short, constructive criticism is an act of love.

Corrosive criticism is another animal altogether. It is intense and often chronic. Its intention is not to promote personal or professional growth.  Whatever its intention, corrosive criticism eats away at the spirit of the recipient and in some cases such criticism is meant to wound and disable the minister. When its intent is to annihilate the minister psychologically and spiritually, it is evil.

Mercifully, most corrosive criticism is not evil but it can be inappropriate and unhealthy. Edwin Friedman viewed some criticism as an appropriate pursuit of intimacy with a minister. Certainly one way to get a minister’s attention is to criticize her sermon as you are leaving church. Many times “soft” criticism is a misguided attempt to establish a connection with a pastor. It is much like saying; “I want to get to know you better.”

Chronic “hard” criticism often is nothing more than an unabashed power move, a way to intimidate and control the minister. It is a not-so-subtle reminder of who is really in charge in the church. Power brokers may use unremitting criticism to re-establish their control of a congregation and to offset the power of the pulpit. At the very least, criticism may ensure that the status quo is protected. One of my students was appalled when the treasurer went through his trash and returned to his porch items he deemed unworthy of the trashcan.

Other times, criticism is the result of “projection” where critics project on to the minister characteristics that they find intolerable in themselves. A person may say to a minister, “You are inadequate” when, in fact, it is that person who is struggling with feelings of inadequacy. The real tragedy occurs when the minister identifies with her critic’s projection.

When a parishioner “transfers” negative feelings from a past authority to the minister other forms of corrosive criticism may result. This is unconscious and often highly charged emotionally. The minister may simply be standing in for an abusive, neglectful, engulfing, or abandoning parent. I can still recall an elder’s angry response to a “social action” sermon, “Who do you think you are, my mother?”

Culturally, the criticism that Presbyterians may feel about the larger church can be “displaced” upon the local pastor who becomes the scapegoat or “identified patient.” Parishioners blame the pastor for representing a larger system that some laity may experience as remote, oppressive, and disruptive.  You may not be able to fight City Hall but you can excoriate its delegate.

More immediately, the criticism of a pastor can be transferred from a former pastor who was dictatorial, unscrupulous, manipulative, or abandoning. For a constellation of reasons, the congregation may not have been allowed to vent their feelings of rage toward the offending pastor. Instead they punish the next pastor who activates their rage.

Whatever the source of the criticism, the minister must learn to maintain a relatively non-anxious presence in the face of criticism, to depersonalize corrosive criticism, and to take responsibility for his or her own personal and professional growth.  

The first task is remarkably difficult since most of us find angry people so frightening, but our reacting only adds additional anxiety to an already stressed system. De-personalizing the criticism helps us to lower our reactivity. The question we may ask is: “How well does my critic know me as a person?” If the critic doesn’t know you personally, how can it be a personal attack? Finally, if your worth as a child of God is inextricably bound up with your performance, then criticism will be devastating. If, however, you have a variety of life-enhancing pursuits and nurturing relationships, the impact of corrosive criticism will be less severe and damaging.

 

Charles E. Brown is the William B. Oglesby Professor of Pastoral Theology at Union Theological Seminary-Presbyterian School of Christian Education in Richmond, Va. His most recent book is, The Self in Time.

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