THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG-DISTANCE PASTOR [10-4-24]

BEYOND WINTER: Irrelevant Memories of An Old Man—THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG-DISTANCE PASTOR [10-4-24]

 

[Yes, it’s still Pastor Appreciation Month…]

When I went back to congregation pastoring, after graduate work, I was surprised how lonely most of my fellow pastors were.

I had never been lonely. The first 3 years I was preaching, I lived in a college dorm. Lots of good friends. Then I got married, and went to seminary. Helen was always my best friend, and seminary students were a close fellowship. Following seminary, I was in campus ministry. I wasn’t much older than my students, and we had a great friendship community.

After grad work, I became the only pastor of my denomination in a small town. It’s hard to be friends with people in a congregation, people who decide how little your salary should be. No friends there.  

So, I did what became a pattern: I formed a group. It always seemed to me that when there was a need, and no one else was doing anything about it, why not me? I created friendship groups for clergy, formal and informal, throughout my career.

That first group took in more than my little town. We were not far from a large metropolitan area. I invited any clergy person I could find. Meetings on a Monday because that is usually the day when preachers are free of other commitments. They came. Protestants of all ages and denominations. Catholic priests. We did case studies and shared ideas. They didn’t feel so lonely then.

One Monday, Bob dragged in, looking like “death warmed over, on a cracker,” [as folk singer Bryan Bowers once said, referring to himself at the time.] Bob was the preacher at a large Baptist church in the cities. He asked to be the first to share.

“We had our regular monthly congregational meeting after worship yesterday,” he said. “Somebody made a motion to fire me. It failed by one vote. I haven’t slept for 24 hours. I had no idea anything was wrong.”

Being in a denomination in which I was appointed by the bishop rather than hired by the congregation, this was new territory for me, but I certainly understood Bob’s distress. So did everybody else in that group. They all expressed their concern and support for Bob, and then they began to strategize. They came up with the idea that I should talk to Bob’s congregation, and figure out what was wrong, and fix it.

It wasn’t hard. Congregation members all agreed that Bob was a good pastor. His perceived shortcomings were minor. But they had no way to communicate about it. Yes, people could talk to him directly, but most church folks just don’t like personal confrontation, even if minor. So discontents built up. I helped them create a pastor-parish relations committee, meeting regularly with Bob. He was able to sleep again.

Wherever I went, I became the pastor to pastors, without portfolio, because I formed groups. It’s easier for lonely folks to start in a group--especially those who are supposed to help other lonely people rather than being lonely themselves. Group friendships lead to personal sharing about loneliness and problems. Because I created the groups, many pastors saw me as their pastor.

I think that I was able to be a pastor to pastors precisely because I did not have any authority for doing it. No mandates from denominations or public position and acclaim. I was just a guy who liked the fellowship of his colleagues.

One of the reasons the young pastors—and some not so young—came to me with their problems was because my colleagues knew sooner and better than I did that I would never be part of the appointive system. It’s hard to go to the bishop or your District Superintendent and tell how deficient or sinful you are. When appointment time comes, you want them thinking only of the façade you’ve built that indicates how competent you are.

I had a reputation for understanding the appointive system [not wholly deserved], and colleagues knew I would never be in a position to use against them what they had told me.

Now that so many of my friends “…have gone on to their reward,” I cherish the memories of our sharing in “the goodly fellowship of the prophets.”

I trust that now they are not lonely.

John Robert McFarland