The Lonely Pastor or the Navel-gazing Christian?

One of the difficult things about pastoral work, it seems to me, is the lack of community for pastors. At my church I am the pastor, so I cannot also be a fellow traveller in the same way. Of course, I hope that over time I can grow closer to the folks in my congregation. I certainly don't think that professional distance is something pastors should aim for. At the same time, pastors, though human beings like everyone else, cannot share all of their struggles and hurts with those to whom they minister. There is a time and place for vulnerability, but a pastor, I think, needs to be prudent and discerning. But since this is the case, pastors also have to be guarded. At least I find myself feeling this way, right or wrong.

So for most believers the local congregation, ideally, is the place where they experience spiritual intimacy and accountability, where they discover Christ in the midst of relationships and friendships. Whether it's in a casual conversation or a ladies prayer meeting, there are opportunities for the opening of hearts, of mutual prayer, and moments where personal connections are made. But the pastor is not in the same position as the average Christian. He cannot open himself to those in his congregation like they might to one another. I know that I more or less try to be myself when around people from my church, but that isn't the same thing as sharing and praying about very personal matters. So it is that I find I experience a definite lack of spiritual intimacy, that sense of fellowship and communion that the church is intended, at least in part, to provide.

Rather than whine about this--and I hope that I haven't been doing that!--I simply want to say that pastoral isolation of this kind means that it often feels as though growing more mature in Christ is a responsibility left solely to the individual pastor. And while much of our North American Christian culture is individualistic so that even many Christians see their spiritual lives as largely private, I think that it's even more difficult for pastors. I only know that pastor or not that I have a long way to go when it comes to growing in the faith. And I feel like I can't go any further without someone to lend a hand.

Is it possible that what I am experiencing is not at all particular to pastors? Is it possible that because of the privatization of spirituality and specifically Christian faith that there are lots of Christians in the same boat? I can't speak for anyone else, but I will say this: when our worship service ends on Sunday mornings, I feel as though we're just getting started. It feels as though we could, and should, keep going, that we should move onto talk about what we sang about, what we prayed about, and what we heard in Scripture and sermon. It's pretty difficult to nurture a strong sense of community when you only get together once a week.

This leads me to ask a bunch of questions: Are we inviting people into a larger sense of what Christ calls the church to be on Sunday mornings, letting them know that this one hour of worship and celebration is merely the tip of the iceberg, or are we communicating that this time together is meant simply to get them through another week? Are we effectively teaching that God is not an add-on to the rest of their lives, and that he's there not only to help them cope with their life and their problems as they define them but that God calls us to radically reorganize our lives around his story, his kingdom, his will? Do even we as pastors fully comprehend our task in this regard? Are we even able to take time to consider these questions? Are we able to put these questions to our congregations effectively? Have we and our congregations been captured and convicted by the biblical vision of a God who enters time and history to save and redeem a fallen creation for his glory and his purposes?

And so then maybe we have to ask, what does this have to do with feeling isolated as a pastor or with Christians being too private about their faith? What does this say about having a greater sense of spiritual intimacy and community? Maybe nothing, but maybe everything. Even if we were to catch but a glimpse of the God who has chosen to reveal to the saints the "mystery that has been hidden throughout the ages and generations" (Col. 1: 26), I wonder if we would be so spiritually moribund as we sometimes seem to be. I do think that there is no way a greater sense of community and intimacy can emerge or happen by directly seeking it. I think that first and foremost it is only as we seek the Lord's face together will we be drawn together as a community. Even if we are lonely, and even if we need to create a space for greater spiritual intimacy in our churches, remedying such problems would only amount to spiritual navel-gazing without first having a vision of a holy and gracious God who invites us to relationship, not to meet our needs but for his glory.