I grew up in a pastor’s home, back in the day when honorifics were standard fare when addressing clergy. I do not remember a single instance of a parishioner calling my father by his first name. Yet his relationships with his congregants were close enough that now, at nearly the age of 90, he maintains robust contact with scores of them through telephone, email, and yes, even Facebook.
Dad taught me — both by word and example — that the pastoral vocation is one of the most wonderful callings on the planet. That is, if God has called you to it. But if not … one should never even think about it. And so I ran from my own pastoral call until I could no longer outrun it. Once I became a pastor, I found pastoral life as rewarding as Dad did. I was blessed with wonderful parishioners, and the joys of ministry far exceeded its distresses.
By the time I entered pastoral ministry, at least one thing had changed for most pastors — honorifics were abandoned, and I was simply “Sheldon.” That was fine by me, as I found the clergy/laity division in our churches troubling. But I noticed also that the old saw is true — familiarity can indeed breed contempt. There was far less reverence for the reverends of my generation. Many of us pastors were still blessed with much affirmation, but some of my colleagues were given precious little slack when the church wasn’t going or growing as some thought it should. More than a few simply gave up when the criticism grew too sharp. Others were forced out of their pastoral calls against their will.
I now work with pastors as a presbytery leader, rather than with a particular congregation. There are some 330 pastors under my watch, and I can testify that more than a few of them have struggled to stay in parish ministry. In some cases, discernment of call has been awry — but in many, things could have and should have gone better. Worn down by persisting resistance, even good pastors can begin to doubt their calling.
Statistics indicating widespread pastoral distress abound. Rather than trot out a long list of such statistics, I’ll simply point to a longitudinal study of clergy just published in the Journal of Primary Prevention indicating that the rate of clinical depression in clergy is 11.1%, double the national rate of 5.5%. Spouses and children have suffered at least as much as these pastors — it’s often harder to see your loved one suffer than to suffer yourself.
1 Timothy 5:17 exhorts us, “Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching.” Both Jesus and Paul taught and practiced honoring the religious leaders of their day for the sake of their office — even those whose lives were disordered.
In our well-meaning zeal to open the door of ministry equally to all people, have we welcomed some into ministry whose vocation really lies elsewhere? Undoubtedly so. I have witnessed more than a few major gaffes by pastors who have all the right credentials, but lack necessary gifts for pastoral ministry. Still, I find the majority of opposition against pastors largely unwarranted, and it harms the church as much as the pastor.
As a presbytery leader I often receive complaints alleging pastoral negligence or malpractice, usually with the expectation that I will step in to stop it. Only rarely do I hear parishioners express praise and appreciation for their pastor. At one presbytery meeting several folk from the host congregation made a point of telling me how wonderful their pastor is — it was remarkable precisely because even a single such comment is rare at presbytery meetings.
Wise employers know that employees become more productive when offered positive reinforcement. A church’s ministry can likewise be strengthened by praising that which is praiseworthy in the pastor. News flash: Pastors are human too. Just like everyone else, they rise to their best when encouraged for what they have done well.
Several years ago, I worked with PC(USA) Research Services to conduct a study of the impact of pastoral sabbaticals on pastors and their congregations. Unsurprisingly, most pastors reported that the sabbatical contributed positively to their vocational practice and fulfillment. More tellingly, a similarly strong majority of congregations reported that their church’s ministry became stronger after the pastor returned from sabbatical.
Here’s the point: Acts of appreciation for pastors strengthen both the pastor and the church. Conversely, lack of expressed appreciation hurts both the pastor and the church.
Truthfully, it cuts both ways. Pastors need also to express appreciation for their congregations. In his little classic “Life Together,” Dietrich Bonhoeffer eloquently warns pastors against accusing their congregations before God.
As a child I was sobered by the story of the she-bears mauling the gang that mocked the new pastor at Bethel, Elisha (2 Kings 2). I trembled before the warning, “Do not touch my anointed ones; do my prophets no harm” (1 Chronicles 16:22). I heard about the ill that befell the Israelites when they complained against Moses, and shuddered at the consequences that would befall me if I spoke against a minister of the Gospel. That all seems rather quaint to me now.
Perhaps I should not be so quick to dismiss such sentiments. At the very least, parishioners should for selfish reasons do all they can to bless their pastors. And truthfully, most pastors give greatly of themselves for the sake of others, and abundantly deserve all the credit we can give them.
We don’t need to return to using clergy honorifics — but a commitment to honoring those who labor among us for the sake of the Gospel is both honorable in itself, and certain to bear good fruit in the life of the congregation that practices it. If parishioners find it difficult to honor their pastor for the pastor’s sake, let them do so at least for their own sake!
SHELDON W. SORGE is the general minister for Pittsburgh Presbytery.
