The Fat Pastor, Pt. 2
Last week I took a look at a New York Times article that said clergy were fatter, sicker and sadder than the rest of the population.
I was expecting a little more push back on my post and the article itself, but surprisingly most all of you were in complete agreement with what the article stated. This is what reader Megan said:
Oh My Goodness! I have been hoping someone else would notice this! It’s becoming such a trend in our churches, and it’s simply unbecoming. I’m a PK, and debating on going into ministry because I don’t want to turn into this person.
Some more insights from reader Keith:
It’s like there is a nobility in self-destruction.
Glass half full: We know burn-out in our clergy is a significant problem and we need to do something about it.
Glass half empty: We know burn-out in our clergy is a significant problem and we don’t care enough to do anything about it.
I’m going to choose to be a “half full” kind of guy and offer some practical solutions to combat burn-out in the 21st century church. These are just suggestions, but they’re steps I’ve taken in my own life to protect against the atmospheric friction that comes with entering ministry.
1. Stop the excuses. Seriously. It’s time to stop. ‘Nuff said.
2. Get physical. You’d be amazed at what 30 minutes of exercise, 3-4 times per week can do for the soul. I’m not saying you need to become a marathon runner, just get moving. My dad just started “wogging” (walk-jogging) two miles a couple times a week. He feels better physically and mentally. A nice, easy fix to the sedentary lifestyle so many of us lead. It doesn’t have to impossible, just challenging. Get going.
3. Set boundaries. I heard Andy Stanley give a talk on the topic of boundaries and it hasn’t left me since. He described a situation where he was minutes away from leaving for the day and a member called in with an emergency. “We want Pastor Andy to come down to the hospital now!” was the demand from the other end of the phone. Andy went on to explain how he told the family that he was heading to a previous engagement (going home to his family) and that a member of the hospital visitation team would be down as soon as possible. He told the family he would be more than happy to be there the first thing in the morning. And then he went home.
I’ve never forgotten it because I think it’s such a great example of boundaries. Do pastors need to care for their congregations? Absolutely. But we also need to realize pastors are finite beings who, at the end of the day, love going home to their families just like everyone else. You may not like the healthy boundaries your pastor puts up, but I think it’s time we start respecting those boundaries.
4. Know thyself. If you don’t know who you are, ministry will eat you alive. I’m convinced that’s why so many ministry workers are depressed–they don’t know who they are. They head into ministry expecting God to somehow bring completion to their lives. “If I can just help enough people, then my soul will be full.” Sorry, it won’t. That’s called co-dependency, not ministering the Gospel.
Do you have any you would add to the list? What do you do to protect yourself from burnout? What do you see others doing that works?
Please share!
sedentary, not sedimentary.
Blast. That's the worst. Thanks Drew!
OK, Justin, I'll push back. Not because I think you're wrong, but because I think the topic looks different from your perspective than it does mine. I've got 20 years on you and 5 times that in weight, I suspect. On the face of it, your “just say no” approach (I'm reducing it to its lowest common denominator to underscore my point, btw)…well, your points are true, it's just not that easy.
I wish I was you. Your age, fitness level and lack of baggage. I'd love that. I was young and fit once. On the face of it, people meeting me now would not look at me at say, “Hey, she must be quite the athlete!” But I was a pretty good in the day. Shoot, I was an athlete before Title IX changed women's athletics. I was a tom boy before girls could be jocks. But despite all that, I lost myself and 20 years and “Biggest Loser” pounds later, it's not that easy to change. My truest self would be physically active, but I don't know how to rediscover her.
I wish I was a young leader in a post-pot luck era in the church. I grew up in a time when the one addiction the church approved of was food (maybe it still is). Bring that casserole/hot dish with pasta, cream of mushroom soup, sour cream and cheese in it. Have dessert after church — sharing new bar/cookie/cake recipes! Have a “salad” that has jello, whipped cream and marshmallows in it! There was so much that was unhealthy about how food was used in church. But, we didn't drink alcohol, smoke, do drugs, or sleep around, so we were loving our bodies as God told us to.
I wish I grew up in a time when women could serve in the church, rather than just working in the kitchen, nursery and women's ministries. Serving good food was a way of being valued. Being a great hostess (sadly, a lost art for many in my generation and yours) was a badge of honor. I LOVE that my parents had others over for dinner 50-75% of Sundays growing up. That was a fabulous experience, but…it taught me another set of lessons about how to be a woman and how to serve God and God's people with food.
I wish I'd grown up in a day when parents said no to more work (which in my case didn't involve climbing corporate ladders, but serving 20 hours a week at church in addition to both parents working full-time). I wish saying yes to quality time with children had been a value (and I think the pendulum has swung too far for many parents in the last decade or so). It would have been great if family time wasn't just when we went to church together. I would've loved if my parents had known how to help me deal with insecurity and shame, and encouraged me to be smart and strong. I'm grateful my mom and sister were so strong. My guidance counselor dad was a man of few words, nurturing, but not engaged with the emotional side of my life any more than my mom was. Christian young people in my day weren't helped to be part of their high school culture, but were rather encouraged to hold things at arms length. Being salt and light was hard among a popular group of friends when most Christian's my age were just weird. It was easier to feel like an outsider — a blow to self-esteem, for sure. It was no surprise I was voted, “most likely to become a nun,” even as a protestant, rather than being honored with a “class clown” vote which she really wanted!! (I think I was second in that category.
I went to some parties, but I didn't drink and left early. I learned to eat privately instead.
I wish I'd started leading when there were peers to talk to. I wish I hadn't been the only woman doing youth ministry full-time in my denomination (there was one part-time woman as well). I wish even wives of youth pastors would've asked how I was doing rather than questioning (with an air of disapproval) how I worked with the boys in my youth groups (like their husbands did the girls in theirs…I had adult men who volunteered with me). Ministry was lonely in my twenties. College friends got married. I was working in my home church — a place where women leading was not encouraged. I pulled it off because my family pedigree opened doors (aka, my parents were both loved and respected). But there was no one to be honest with about what ministry was like — much less to talk about being healthy.
So food worked…as a source of comfort. Food wasn't taken seriously for its nutritional value. It was a social exercise. It was a means of celebration. It was a means of comfort. It was a love language. It was a socially acceptable way to self-medicate emotions that couldn't be named or known.
And ministry worked…as a way to feel loved and valued by others. People in my era of leadership often entered ministry as a way of attending to their own stuff. We entered ministry as a way of getting our needs met…AND using our gifts…AND loving God and God's people. Our motives look a lot like the casseroles that were served at those potlucks…there's a lot there and it's hard to discern the healthy from the unhealthy components!!
It's good to be you. It's good to be a young leader in a different stage of the church. It's good to be in a place where churches value health in a different way — maybe even in the kinds of foods served at community gatherings. It's great to name early the things that will trip you and your generation up from genuinely thriving in ministry for the long term. Add kids and financial pressures…add disappointments and losses…add wear and tear on your body and spirit…and it will only be more difficult to redirect your energies and establish new life patterns. So, really, good for you for addressing all of this now.
My health scares me. I know I need to lose weight. I know what a healthy diet would look like. I know I need to exercise, but pain in both feet, arthritis in both knees and the accumulation of years and years of inertia make change really difficult. Are the points you made true? YES! But it's also not quite that easy. At least it's not for me.
So I write to caution you to speak your truth, but to do it with love and grace. Know that the people who have gone before you have arrived where they are for legitimate reasons. They aren't fools. They aren't ignorant. They…we…aren't entirely wrong-headed. And change isn't going to come to us easily. Having the encouragement to attend to our health would be great. Shifting the church's values about physical health would be fabulous. And…change…it's hard.
One more thought. It's about gender and your language “fat pastors.” When I hear that, I think you're talking about men. I'm pretty sure you would recognize that the word “fat” isn't going to help light a fire under any overweight woman pastor's butt to get them into fitness. The language hooked my shame, to be honest. I suspect men would hear you differently. I just thought I'd toss that thought out as a bonus to my otherwise lengthy response.
Now my question is whether to attach my name to this response or not. I think our mutual friends will not be put off by a little authenticity from a female leader and fellow Christ-follower they know.
Thanks for your good work on your blog. I respect your input a lot. If I didn't, I wouldn't have bothered responding…I think you know that, but I wanted to be clear.
I would add disciplined prayer. It's intimately connected to #4: Know thyself. No, “helping enough people” will not fill one's soul. The Holy Spirit will. As a pastor myself, I know the awkward, embarrassed silence when I've asked a small group of other pastors about their prayer lives…looking for some help for my own. If a pastor is neglecting his or her family due to pressures from the congregation, you can bet the prayer life is probably suffering, too.
I think Kristin brings up an excellent point about how church culture leads to over-consumption of crappy food. I believe her phrasing was: food was the one addiction the church approved of. Amen to that! Growing up Lutheran, I have had my fair share of potlucks and hot dish, though in the lower midwest is was known as casserole.
When did this happen? When did self-restraint and self-control go out the window? When did we become ashamed to talk about gluttony as a sin? Now, there are many and varied reasons for why people over eat, but I think Kristin nailed it on the head – eating our emotions. Pastors are asked to pour into so many people that they often forget, no, neglect, to get filled up themselves. We all have emotional baggage and we need to confess it to one another. To set the Pastor so far apart that s/he has no confidants is a dangerous thing. Pastors will fill their emotional void in some form: pornography, emotional affairs, overeating, etc. but the root cause is the same – their is junk in their lives that has not been dealt with. They are not living from their Center (that is, their relationship with Jesus in case anyone was confused).
I think, Justin, that your story about Andy Stanley is spot on. We need to update our expectations of what it is to be a pastor. I think we also need to reclaim traditions that have been lost to time, such as fasting. We could also discuss the moral implications of the food we eat and serve to one another, but I will hold off for now. Thank you for bringing up this issue.
I think physicality is crucially important and often overlooked. Most people wouldn't put it so high on the list. We put retreats, continuing education – all good, but often sedentary activities. I have a recurring appointment with myself on my calendar everyday for some kind of exercise – my wife's great idea. I only break it in case of emergency, or if I know I will absolutely be able to make it up.
Physical health has helped me to endure stress far, far better than I once did. It's also become a big part of my spiritual life. It is often the only silent time I get, and it is very meditative. In mediation, it is the body, which is always in the present moment, that helps us our minds and hearts to be present as well. I get some of my best sermon insights while I run.
Thanks for keeping the conversation going.
Kristin, I respect 100% what you're saying, as I come from an “eat your way through anything” family. I want to establish that what you're talking about is something I grew up in, where my family did everything around food.
Here's the one thing I didn't read in your response, although it may be the case. And I'm not calling you out here; I don't need a response — this is just for you and your heart. But have you contended in prayer for your body? I mean really hung in there and petitioned the Lord for change in your body? For your physical healing? Our Father is fully capable of bodily resurrection in addition to His work on our souls. My encouragement to you is this, make the fight to take your body over a fight that He leads. Do not battle your body alone, but let the One who designed your body heal it. Contend, Kristin, contend!
Keith … This is a phenomenal comment. Michael Hyatt wrote a little while back about scheduling time with yourself. Sounds like you (and your wise wife) have picked up on that idea. That's awesome.
Glad to hear your journey in joining both spirit and body!
Ryan:
What a great post. As I've read Keith, Ben and now your comments, I've been impressed by the thoughtful tone and wise input. Yours, in particular, was impressive for it's graciousness. It's no easy task to “ask the truth in love,” and yet that's exactly how I heard it. I can't say that I've contended in prayer for my body. I love all that it represents — such a rich invitation and challenge. Thank you.
To others/all…
It dawned on me after my post that I was truly writing to Justin, and to those who follow his blog whom I also know and respect. I don't know why I didn't think of the rest of you who are indeed unknown to me. That was kind of short-sighted wasn't it?!
I want Justin's readers to know that my response to him was not intended to “take him on.” Seriously, I like and respect him too much for that. I wanted to speak with candor, authenticity (and some vulnerability) to express the complexity of the topic of weight, health and body stuff. I'm pleased he's addressing this topic. I like that he writes with passion. I like that he is able to be provocative without being edgy and unkind. I don't think Justin has a mean-spirited bone in his body! 
I just talked with Justin on the phone. I suggested that my post was intended to add pixels to the image. I didn't want to erase or type over his words with a strikeout font. I wanted to add dimension, depth, shadow, etc.
Ryan…yes, contend indeed. It's a good follow-up to Justin's posts and my comment…for many of us, but I will indeed embrace it as an invitation for myself.
Kristin
At what point did you find jesus? I remember a different justin in high school.
Stop deleting my posts!
Are your posts getting deleted?
Long, long story. Suffice to say it was a lot of drinking and partying in college that led to my experience with Jesus. You can only wake up so many times with a hangover before you start to ask the question, “is this all that life has to offer?”
You're not the only one who's noticed a change since high school!