Every pastor goes through rough patches from time to time. It’s part of the challenge of leadership. Even Moses’ congregation occasionally complained about the direction they were taking and voiced their displeasure with the person responsible. There is a certain consolation in knowing we are not alone.
When I was a rookie pastor in Missouri, I had the good fortune to invite a pastor in our association to lead revival services. Knowing, apparently, that I needed all the help I could get, Jim Akins took me under his mentoring wing, so to speak, and we became great friends.
Every other Monday morning, we would get together for coffee to keep each other from resigning. We were kidding, mostly; but having a fellow pastor to share things with made a huge difference. Occasionally, we needed the unqualified support we received from the other. On other occasions, we needed the corrective perspective the other offered. Either way, we heard truth expressed in love from one who could identify with our circumstance. How disheartening and discouraging the pastorate can sometimes be if we try to go it alone.
That’s why I am a member of a ministers’ support group.
I first became acquainted with Charles Chandler in 1984. Charles had just written a book on ministers’ support groups and was much in demand as a conference leader. Our paths crossed at Glorieta and Ridgecrest retreat centers and I instantly liked this Illinois pastor, a plain-spoken Alabama native.
In 1987, after a brief three years as editor of The Deacon, I left the Sunday School Board to accept the call of First Baptist of Newport News to be its pastor. A year or so later, Charles moved from the wilderness of Illinois to the milk and honey of a Virginia pastorate. After giving him time to settle in, I called him one day to suggest organizing a support group for ministers. He readily agreed and each of us suggested three additional members whom we called. To our delight, and somewhat to our surprise, each one of them was eager to become a part of such a group.
For 21 years now, we have been meeting. Because some of them might not wish to have it publicly known that they are involved in a group with a character such as myself, other than Charles I will not divulge their names. But each of the others brings great insight and a high level of competency to our bi-monthly meetings.
In the two decades of our existence, three of our original eight have retired and moved out of state. Another died suddenly one Sunday morning. As vacancies occurred, we invited others to join. Membership now stands at nine.
We have seen one another through the rough patches of ministry. We have been there during crises within our families and in our church families. We have kept one another from resigning. We have kept one another relatively sane. We have counseled one another and challenged one another. We have supported and corrected. And through it all we have spoken (and heard) the truth in love.
I share this because many of our pastors still operate as religious lone rangers lacking an intimate, understanding group in which to confide. Some are afraid of the intimacy required to be a part of such a group. Others think they can’t afford the time or assume their churches wouldn’t understand why they wanted to leave their own people and go talk to a bunch of other preachers. Who but our spouses and a bunch of preachers can understand what preachers go through?
If you are a pastor or staff member, I commend a support group to you. In fact, I will say it emphatically. You need to be a part of a group that can at once hold you in high esteem and hold you accountable. You need a band of brothers (or a circle of sisters) you can invite into your hurts who will apply the healing of encouragement to your wounds—even those in your back.
If you are a layperson, out of concern for your pastor and staff, please encourage them to join or form such a group. No minister is smart enough or strong enough to go it alone.
How would you start a support group? Pick out somebody of your gender you like and trust and call that person. Ask about starting a group. Add names and call them. It’s not rocket science. In our group, as we filled vacancies we discussed whether we wanted to invite a woman minister to join us but ultimately decided against it. Although we knew this would add a dimension to the group, we were concerned that it might also alter the character and intimacy we experienced. Also, we were mindful of potential dangers inherent in cross-gender intimacy.
What does a group do when it meets? Initially, our group decided that we would spend one meeting sharing the concerns of each member and the next hearing a report from one of the members on a book he was reading (or writing) or some other topic of interest. After the first year, we decided to focus on sharing and forget the presentations. Typically, we meet every other month for most of the day. We divide the time we have by the number of members and appoint a time-keeper to keep us on track. If a group member is encountering a problem, we adjust the time as appropriate according to the needs of group members.
Once a year, usually in mid-winter, we have an overnight retreat that allows more time and therefore more depth of sharing.
Although most groups will find common ground in the care they extend to members, each group will be as different as the individuals in it. Don’t be afraid to experiment to discover what works best for your group. Time, distance, responsibilities and life stages may all be issues that affect the choices your group makes.
I’ve thought a lot about that first two-member group I was a part of in the early days of my ministry. I owe Jim Akins a great deal for keeping me centered and confident when I was getting my start; and for being honest enough to challenge me at some points in the years afterward.
Next Saturday, Jim and I are getting together again. It will be different from any previous get-together we’ve had because I plan to do all the taking. Lord willing, I will travel to Covington, Tenn., to conduct his funeral. I owe that to him as a way of saying thanks and good-bye. For now.
Jim White is editor of the Religious Herald.