After reading some of the articles, I stopped to see what the Mayo Clinic had to say about burnout. They list a number of risk factors, and at least three of the five are practically built-in to being in ministry, at least in our cultural mileu. The top one? “You identify so strongly with work that you lack a reasonable balance between work and your personal life.” Sound familiar?

The findings have surfaced with ominous regularity over the last few years, and with little notice: Members of the clergy now suffer from obesity, hypertension and depression at rates higher than most Americans. In the last decade, their use of antidepressants has risen, while their life expectancy has fallen. Many would change jobs if they could.
Taking a Break From the Lord’s Work (NY Times, via Jeremy)

80% of pastors say they have insufficient time with spouse and that ministry has a negative effect on their family.

40% report a serious conflict with a parishioner once a month.

33% say that being in ministry is an outright hazard to their family.

75% report they’ve had significant stress-related crisis at least once in their ministry.

58% of pastors indicate that their spouse needs to work either part time or full time to supplement the family income.

56% of pastors’ wives say they have no close friends.

Pastors who work fewer than 50 hrs/week are 35% more likely to be terminated.

40% of pastors considered leaving the pastorate in the past three months.
Death by Ministry (Eugene Cho, via Phil)

Until the 1920s, the pastor was a cura animarum, the “cure of souls,” or “curate”—a person who cared for souls by helping people locate themselves in God’s greater story. The first step in this work was the pastor’s own attention to her or his soul-care through an intentional focus on her or his personal relationship with the Holy. Yet…seminaries focus on academics and do not train Protestant clergy in spirituality or spiritual formation. At most, even in 2010, only a handful of seminaries require a semester of study in this essential subject.

The rationale for this omission is the assumption…that clergy receive spiritual formation in their home congregations. However, as Ezra Earl Jones…points out, churches are “places for programs” and because of this, pastors themselves “haven’t known the church to be a place of spiritual formation.” As a result of their own poverty in spiritual formation and relationship with God, pastors are not prepared to help people build relationships with God.
Soul Care and the Roots of Clergy Burnout (Anne Dilenschneider)

If you are involved in ministry or have a close friend who is, probably none of this is surprising to you, although it still might disturb you (as it should). My point in sharing these quotations is not to shock anyone or to gain sympathy for pastors; rather, it is to highlight two things: 1) There is clearly something broken. Maybe it is the way many pastors go about their jobs/lives, or what “church” has come to mean in America, or something else we haven’t put a finger on yet—but something is broken. 2) I know it has been said before, but it needs to be said again many times: The statistics above might be common, but they are not normal or right. This is not the abundant life that Jesus intended for us.

Yes, Jesus said that we must take up our cross in order to follow him and that we should expect persecution. Jesus, the apostles, the prophets—they all experienced hardships and suffering. My sneaking suspicion, though, is that the problems described above result less from persecution we face while doing God’s will than from our (collective and individual) choices about priorities, lifestyle, expectations, ministry styles, and church systems. Yes, that’s a loaded statement. No, I’m not going to unpack it right now. But you should.

The fact is that Jesus’ description of the Christ-follower’s life sounds awfully different from our lives:

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and my load is not hard to carry. (Matthew 11:28-29, NET)

He spoke these words to people who were overwhelmed by the burdens placed on them by their religious systems and religious leaders. Rabbis often spoke of their “yoke”, by which they meant their interpretations of Torah and other Jewish teachings. Jesus’ yoke is easy. How did we make it so hard? What have we done? Jesus regularly took time away for prayer, rest, and spiritual renewal (Luke 5:16). Why do we feel guilty doing this? Because it takes us away from our “job”? What has our job become, anyway?

I know one thing it is not: Our job is not to perpetuate religious structures. It is to lead people to Jesus; which requires a degree of spiritual health, maturity, and margin; which, in turn, requires living out (living in?) the spiritual practices Jesus lived out, as our primary (meaning first, and foremost) responsibility.

If we are to live abundantly under the light burden Jesus describes and fulfill his commission, it’s about time that we started acting like Him instead of like overworked CEOs. When you have a minute, check out the article Soul Care and the Roots of Clergy Burnout and consider its implications for how churches should evaluate success and what we as pastors should consider our primary role/calling.

I am not making light of worship style issues or suggesting that we shouldn’t discuss them; we certainly should have open conversation on the subject.  I am simply suggesting that it might help to approach these discussions from a larger perspective—globally, historically, culturally, and biblically.  And that is why I finally bit the bullet and preached a sermon on music style.  In it, I try to provide some of that perspective.

You can listen to the message here: or download it by right-clicking here.

Also, here is the video we showed at the beginning of the message:

Hey you techy & creative folks who read this: Got any good suggestions for how to make it better?  My initial next steps are fixing the About page, changing some of the category names on the menu so they make more sense, and retagging/recategorizing a whole load of posts I wrote before I even knew what tags were.

(credit where credit is due: thanks to Jcrocker for the great Chicago skyline photo I blended into the header graphic)

I recently heard an interesting interview on NPR with Nicholas Carr, author of The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains. Over a period of several years of increased internet use, Carr noticed a decrease in his ability to concentrate on books or long articles. In his words, “The deep reading that used to come naturally has become a struggle.” In the interview, he states:

“Neuroscientists and psychologists have discovered that, even as adults, our brains are very plastic. They’re very malleable, they adapt at the cellular level to whatever we happen to be doing. And so the more time we spend surfing, and skimming, and scanning … the more adept we become at that mode of thinking.”

And the converse also appears to be true: we become less adept at deeper, one-track modes of thought. Maybe this is old news to you. We’ve all heard similar stories—in the interview, Robert Siegel brought up the “Sesame Street is destroying kids’ attention spans” theory as one (questionable?) previous iteration—but what really caught my attention about Carr’s version of the theory was his use of the word “contemplative”:

Carr argues that even if people get better at hopping from page to page, they will still be losing their abilities to employ a “slower, more contemplative mode of thought.” He says research shows that as people get better at multitasking, they “become less creative in their thinking.” 

If what Carr says is true, our constantly connected, inseparable-from-technology lifestyles are actually making our brains worse at contemplative connection with God and worse at thinking in creative ways that image His creativity.

I’m not planning to become a hermit or a techno-apocalypse proponent… I’m just wondering what affect all this multitasking is having on my soul.  At the very least, Carr’s arguments highlight our deep need for practicing contemplative disciplines like silence, meditation, and spiritual listening. I also think it calls for a shift in our habits and lifestyles—I think if I only turned on my computer when I needed it for something, I would find myself surfing and multitasking far less. And I think it would be worth it.

And yes, I am aware of the irony of my blogging about this.  Ha!

The way up is down. We must humble ourselves before we are in a position to be lifted up by God and experience joy in the free, overflowing life to be found in Jesus.

Would you pray this prayer in preparation for the journey?

The Lenten season begins. It is a time to be with you, Lord, in a special way, a time to pray, to fast, and thus to follow you on your way to Jerusalem, to Golgotha, and to the final victory over death.

I am still so divided. I truly want to follow you, but I also want to follow my own desires and lend an ear to the voices that speak about prestige, success, pleasure, power, and influence. Help me to become deaf to these voices and more attentive to your voice, which calls me to choose the narrow road to life.

I know that Lent is going to be a very hard time for me. The choice for your way has to be made every moment of my life. I have to choose thoughts that are your thoughts, words that are your words, and actions that are your actions. There are not times or places without choices. And I know how deeply I resist choosing you.

Please, Lord, be with me at every moment and in every place. Give me the strength and the courage to live this season faithfully, so that, when Easter comes, I will be able to taste with joy the new life that you have prepared for me. Amen.
(prayer from Henri Nouwen, Show Me The Way)