aefenglommung (aefenglommung) wrote,
aefenglommung
aefenglommung

Kyrie eleison

In the mid-'80s, I came as near a meltdown as I ever want to come. I had been through a number of unhappy experiences as a pastor. My wife was extremely ill, my children unhappy. And I was appointed to one of our clergy-killer churches. When I was told by my DS after a couple of years that I had to move again, my solution was to escape to graduate school. Because I had the background and the test scores, I was able to enter a Ph.D. program at ISU. I was appointed to attend school, I kept my insurance and my orders; in effect, I called a time out. The alternatives would have been to take another appointment -- which would have finished my career, my marriage, or perhaps my wife's life -- or to simply resign my orders. I took a ten thousand dollar cut in pay to go back to school. I told my family that we would stay here until we were all well again, and only then decide what to do.

I may have landed safely back in Academe, but I became aware that I had a major problem. I was consumed by anger. I couldn't talk about the church without blowing up, for instance. If I had not had my wife and children to care for, I might have gone completely off the rails. Certainly, I said things and did things that could have caused others to wonder about my sanity.

At first, I had a little part-time charge, but after a couple of years that was over. That left me for the first time in twelve years without a place to go on Sunday morning other than one of my choosing. I had no official responsibilities at all, other than to make progress in my doctoral work. And it took another couple of years before the benefit of that finally showed through. I finally forgave the people -- especially my old DS -- whom I blamed for putting me in that situation and then betraying me and my family. And with forgiveness came peace. I wasn't ruled by my anger any more. My wife also improved greatly. We were on the mend.

I defended my dissertation and finished my program midway through my fifth year. I was applying for jobs, which were hard to find, and I was resisting going back to the pastorate. I was afraid of entering the maelstrom again, and this time going down. Meanwhile, I was asked by the DS of the District I was in if I would take a temporary appointment. A little part-time charge of two churches had lost their pastor due to illness. I agreed, and for six months, I pastored West Terre Haute First and Bethesda UMCs. And it completed the healing of my heart. I left off my job search and took a full-time pastoral appointment again in our Conference.

All of which leads me to the point of this post. Anger is energy. You can use anger to get yourself moving, to accomplish goals. But anger is a dangerous servant, and it makes a cruel master. I see a lot of angry clergy, particularly in on-line discussions. Inhibitions are looser on-line than in-person. Some sound as crazy and bitter as I was twenty-seven years ago when I went back to school.

An old counselor friend used to say that one reason we had short pastorates in The UMC was that you had so many angry preachers up front on Sunday morning, staring back at so many angry parishioners. Nobody could hold it together more than a few years in one place. After a few go-'rounds of that, it begins to wear upon you. After a while, anger becomes the dominant part of one's personality: open anger when "off duty," but veiled anger even when dealing with parishioners and official structures. Our families bear the brunt of much of it.

I complain at times about The United Methodist Church. I have stuck by her in good times and bad and have lived by the rules, which gives me a right to. But I complain only because I want my church to be better, to do right. I'm not dominated by anger any more. Even when I get discouraged and pessimistic, I refuse to go back to where I was once. That way lies only bitterness and pain. I think about my old counselor friend's wisdom. I wonder, who will heal all these angry pastors? And then I thank God for my friends who stuck by me and loved me when I was at my most unlovable. May I be so for others whose hearts are consumed by the dark fire.
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 0 comments