I’ll never forget walking into my annual staff evaluation meeting and encountering a roomful of awkward looks. The head of our church’s personnel committee started the meeting off with, “So, do you feel that your … um … anxiety issues have limited your competence in your ministry role?”
Six heads turned to stare at me. That’s when I remembered I alluded to my anxiety disorder in my evaluation form.
I wish I had told them their judgmental side-eyes were unnecessary. I wish I had told them the very question was a violation of aspects of the Americans with Disabilities Act. I wish I had stood up for myself.
Instead, I stumbled through an assertion that, yes, I had the same competence they believed me to have 10 seconds before they read that form. But I think I hesitated in defending myself because sometimes I did believe my mental illnesses limited my competence in ministry.
My faith was on a roller coaster — the highs of heartfelt devotion, the lows of going through the motions — and I occasionally felt like a fraud.
Some evenings, I’d begin choir rehearsal 10 minutes late because I was in the hallway fighting off an anxiety attack. Some Sunday mornings, I’d drag myself to church, force a smile through the service, then crawl back into bed, unable to do anything else that day.
My faith was on a roller coaster — the highs of heartfelt devotion, the lows of going through the motions — and I occasionally felt like a fraud. I rarely admitted any of this to anyone in the church for fear of having my fitness for ministry questioned. It often felt like there was an invisible wall between me and my church family.
Turns out I’m not alone. According to a recent Lifeway Research study, 26% of Protestant pastors have struggled with mental illness, with 17% stating they had been diagnosed formally. Pastors under 45 years old are more likely to admit struggling with mental illness symptoms.
However, the stigma of having mental illness in the church, especially among clergy, still is very real. Mental illness still often is written off as being due to a lack of faith, which keeps pastors from wanting to be vulnerable and risk losing their spiritual authority and trustworthiness by admitting to mental health struggles.
Admitting my diagnoses eventually opened the door for empathetic conversations with congregants experiencing similar struggles.
Happily, I can say not everyone in my church judged me for my mental illness. In fact, admitting my diagnoses eventually opened the door for empathetic conversations with congregants experiencing similar struggles. I was able to gain more support from my fellow staff members when times were hard. I even began a mental health ministry that provided education and resources to help those who were struggling and to inform others about mental health conditions.
So, how can a church support their pastor with a mental health condition?
Avoid platitudes or condescending solutions. Telling your pastor to “pray more” will not magically cure his mental illness. Exercise and vitamin D won’t cure clinical depression. People mean well when they provide suggestions like this, but this kind of response can show a flippant misunderstanding of what the other person actually is experiencing. Instead, just check on your pastor and pray for God’s grace to be with them.
Encourage them through recovery. A pastor going through mental illness treatment doesn’t need to hear every congregant’s personal opinion on antidepressants. What they do need is encouraging support through the treatment plan they have worked out with professionals. Recognize any positive changes you’ve seen in your pastor and celebrate them with her. It’s hard work retraining your brain’s responses to trauma and maintaining emotional stability. Walk alongside your pastor and offer a positive spirit and prayer.
Amy Brundle
Have patience when they need to put their mental health above their work. The “always on” schedule, the demands of congregants, the need to mediate conflict — pastors carry an incredible burden. And if you already have a mental health condition, it can be exponentially difficult to carry that burden without a break.
Churches need to understand sometimes the healthiest thing a pastor can do for himself — and his ministry — is create boundaries and learn when to say no. After serving through a pandemic and major transitions in my own life, I took a break from professional ministry in 2021, and it was the best decision I could have made for my own mental health recovery.
Educate yourself in the language of mental health. The church historically has not done well in understanding and embracing psychological discoveries and treatments. A resounding stigma persists against those seeking psychiatric care for mental illness, as if doing so denies or negates the power of God to heal. But just as there are medical advances in knowledge and treatment for physical conditions, there have been incredible advances in treating mental health conditions. Just gaining a basic understanding of these conditions — including their symptoms, how they manifest in behavior and common therapies — can increase your empathy for those around you suffering from these conditions.
As I learned through beginning my mental health ministry, the church can be a powerful place to have conversations about mental health and how to care for the mentally ill in our congregations. But we have to be open to learning something new.
Recognize she still is the same pastor — and the same person. My seminary training didn’t fly out of my head after a depressive episode. My ability to provide spiritual guidance didn’t disappear because I struggled with anxiety. I still was fully competent to lead my ministry, even with a few extra struggles.
Your pastor can still be a wonderful source of teaching, counseling, leadership and prayer support, even as they battle their own issues. Don’t suddenly treat your pastor as if they are broken after you learn of their diagnosis. After all, we’re all broken, complex, messy — and in need of a Savior. The church should be a place where all of us, including our pastors, can bring our brokenness and receive healing from the Lord.
I wish I could say I am fully recovered from my mental illness. It’s a lifelong journey that requires patience, faith and nearly constant diligence. But God called me to ministry as I am, anxiety and all. The support I’ve received along the way, even from those who can’t fully empathize, has been my saving grace through all of ministry’s ups and downs.
The church needs to be a place where everyone, including — or especially — pastors, are embraced and cared for, regardless of struggle or diagnosis, and where the walls of mental health stigma can come down.
Amy Brundle is an ordained Baptist music minister living in Raleigh, N.C., with her husband, Scott, and a spoiled cat, Brandy. She also is the marketing and communications manager for NAMI North Carolina, a mental health awareness and advocacy nonprofit organization. She holds a Master of Divinity degree from Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary and has been studying music nearly 35 years. Her passions include inspiring volunteers to grow as worship leaders and increasing mental health advocacy within the local church.
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