2020 Year-End Self-Reflection

Though I admittedly do not always succeed, one of my goals is to keep on learning in life. I don’t ever want to grow stagnant or stop learning. This requires self-awareness and self-reflection and it is an ongoing process.

This year, I completed the training to become a certified Grief Recovery Method Instructor, I finished a certificate program in Palliative Care Chaplaincy through the CSU Shiley Institute for Palliative Care, and I completed my second unit of Clinical Pastoral Education through Community Care Chaplains (via the College of Pastoral Supervision and Psychotherapy).

All of that has meant A LOT of self-reflection.

And, honest self-reflection means that we might not always “like” what we find.

For the first time this year, I finally dove in to some of the learnings to be found in the Enneagram. I confirmed that I am a number 4 with a 5 wing. No surprise there; my desire to be valued and understood as being “unique” has long been a driving force in my life. However, it was the realization that I go to a #2 in times of personal chaos that was a revelation for me this year. I love to help people. I love to teach. I love to equip others. I love to be needed. I need to be needed.

I oftentimes find myself in positions of leadership. Not because I have the strongest convictions, but because I can be a leader who gets people to follow. I enjoy public speaking and I love preaching. I find teaching to be a valuable skill and I love trying to distill complex ideas into everyday terms for people so that they can grow. I am often able to remain calm in distressing situations and, through lots of practice, I am able to make you feel like I am really listening to you.

All of this meant that things like planting a church and serving as someone’s pastor came fairly natural for me. I like to think that I possess (and nurture) a certain sense of “emotional intelligence” which means that I can oftentimes make you feel at ease with me fairly quickly and not only “at ease” but willing to share some pretty deep things you might not be willing to share in your everyday life. I don’t take any of this for granted. I deeply appreciate every genuine connection I am able to make with others.

But my natural abilities sometimes feed in to my weaknesses. I have come to realize that when I am not personally emotionally centered in healthy ways that I can take on the unhealthy aspects of an Enneagram #2, meaning that I will often give in to my own need to be needed. This is no good when you are a pastor whose job is to nurture people!

This year I have allowed myself to examine my own emotional boundaries and I haven’t always been happy with what I’ve found. After 15 years of serving as a Pastor, I realized that many of the relationships in my own life were not reciprocal. In other words, if we were going to get together, it was usually up to me to schedule. And then, when we did get together, 45 minutes of our hour together would be spent with you pouring our your current miseries to me and then maybe 5 minutes of you asking something like: “Oh, by the way, how are you?” It wasn’t mutual. And it wasn’t friendship.

This came as a painful realization because it meant that I had fewer real friends than I had previously considered. I had lots of relationships, but very few people caring for my best interest or looking out for me. I had very few people returning the level of care I was giving. I understand that this is often natural, especially for those in “giving occuptations,” but I am no longer a pastor and I do not disclose personal things in my work calls which means that if we still have a relationship in which it is all about you, I’m no longer interested. I wish you the best. I will help when I can. I will always love you and pray for you, but not every burden is mine to carry.

These realizations have led to some lonely self-discoveries and some lost relationships. But I am no longer willing to engage in emotionally unhealthy relationships because of my own weaknesses. I must allow my strengths to help set the healthy emotional boundaries for my relationships. If I am the only one initiating contact, I am done. If our conversations are all about you, then let’s just be honest and say that I am your counselor and we are not friends. I am your unpaid counselor.

I know that some of this sounds harsh and I do not want it to be. Instead, it is one man finally learning that if we want to devote our lives to giving to others, then we also need to take care of ourselves. This might mean pruning some personal relationships to align more with healthy emotional boundaries and it might mean re-focusing on family and personal goals.

This understanding of my own need to be needed has helped me grow in my own role as a Bereavement Counselor. Early on, I wanted people to know how much knowledge I had and how much I could help. But as I’ve learned about my own woundedness and weaknesses, I have learned that the people I speak to will talk about what they need to talk about. It is my job to hold the space well enough for them to birth their own stories. This has led to the paradoxical conclusion that the less I speak, the longer most of my phone calls end up being. People just want someone to listen without judgment.

This year has been very difficult, but I hope that I’ve learned from it. I look forward to focusing on more healthy relationships and pursuing personal goals.

My Transition From Pastor To Chaplain

One of the things that often frustrated me about pastoring was that so many people expected me to be the “Answer Man.” People were often frustrated with me because it is not natural for me to give people step-by-step instructions to spiritual growth. I get it, but I also don’t think that’s who the Bible works but maybe that’s a post for another time.

After resigning from professional local church ministry, I gradually found my way in to the Chaplaincy world. I have served as a Hospice Chaplain, a Hospital Chaplain Intern, and now as a Bereavement Counselor. Career transitions can often be difficult, but one of the refreshing things about this change (at least for me) has been understanding the difference between serving as a Local Pastor and as a Chaplain.

Of course everyone does things differently, but most of the Chaplains that I have been privileged to work with understand this distinction. Pastors are long-term. Pastors are expected to have answers. Pastors are often expected to “fix it.” Chaplaincy is (usually) short-term. Chaplaincy is Triage. Chaplains are Interventionists. But I am not there for you in the long-term. It’s not that I don’t want to be, that’s just not my role; though, of course my role as Bereavement Counselor allows for more long-term relationships than Hospital or even Hospice Chaplaincy.

Chaplains rarely get the benefit of long-term relationships and therefore must learn to establish trust as soon as possible and in different ways than pastors. Pastors earn trust by repeatedly being there for people. Pastors earn trust by helping people fix their problems. Pastors earn trust by having the answers.

Chaplains earn trust with empathy. Chaplains earn trust by listening. It is not my role to counsel or fix anything for you. It is my job (as my co-worker likes to say), to be “a heart with ears.” If I do my job well, then I will call you about the loss of your mother but you will spend 35 minutes telling me about the conflict with your sister and how that is complicating your grief. If I’ve done my job well, you will feel lighter at the end of our time together. It’s not that I take your burden (because it is not mine to bear); it’s that you’ve spoken troublesome things out loud in a safe space with no judgment. I don’t fully understand it, but this is what we all want. We just want someone to listen; to care.

This has taken me a long time to learn. But the role of Chaplain (or Bereavement Counselor) is different from pastor. It’s my job to create a safe space and let the Bereaved do with it what they will. Pastors (almost always) have an agenda. My only agenda is for you to know that you are not alone. Even if it’s only via phone calls, I am with you on this journey. I’m not telling you where to go, that’s up to you to figure out. I may drop breadcrumbs to more helpful paths along the way, but I will never tell you which path to choose. That’s not my role.

And this is difficult for many Christians to understand. Am I wasting my time with these people because I don’t “preach the Gospel” to them? I don’t tell them that unless “they accept Jesus as their Personal Savior,” then they’re going to burn in hell forever? No, I do not. That’s not my role and it’s not what they need in those moments. They need a friend who will listen as they unload their burden. Again, I do not pick up that burden because that’s not my role; but we do talk about how, as they speak these things to me, they have taken that load out of their pack and they don’t need to carry it with them any more. This is forgiveness, though I do not use that word.

Listening is hard for a lot of us. But I worry that it is extremely difficult for many Christians. We have been radicalized to believe that the Bible is some sort of magic answer book meant to fix every situation if only we can Jesus Juke the people to the right dialogue. Of course this is an over-generalization. But it is one drawn from years of experience in that type of culture.

People want a friend. They want to know you care. They may ask you to fix their problems, but I’m willing to bet that they won’t. Or that if they do, they’ve got some sort of co-dependency thing going on. What if Christians were willing to enter in to another’s pain just to help free them of it? No other agenda.

Part of the reason I say all of this is because I know that there is often a pride element in pastoring and many pastors look down on chaplains (or at least see them as lesser). In many ways, I have been set free by the transition from Pastor to Chaplain. I am not tied to your expectations of me, but I am there to help just the same. And, when given the choice between someone who will listen without judgment or someone who will listen only enough to tell me what to do, I’d rather sit down with the chaplain.

The chaplain helps you find your own identity and path. The pastor tells you which paths will destroy you and makes sure you take the path they think should. Now, please hear me here: I am a Christian. I believe that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. But I do not believe that it is my job to make other people believe the same thing. People come to me at their most vulnerable times; when they most need someone. It would be religious malpractice for me to use such moments for proselytizing. I am careful with my words and I always try to point people towards Love, but people know when you just view them as a project.

This is not to devalue pastors and their role. Some of the most fulfilling moments of my professional life were as a pastor. I believe in the Church and I support pastors. But that was not a role I felt comfortable carrying ad infinitum and I now understand why. I am not what most people expect from a pastor. I’m not the type to give you exact steps to spiritual growth. I did not break sermons up into alliterative bullet points. I tried to honor the Story we were trusted with and invited people into that Story and allowed the Holy Spirit to implicated as God saw fit. This left a lot of people (including myself) frustrated.

It is my hope and desire that all Christians allow themselves to learn, to grow, and to change. Sanctification is also the process of self-discovery and personal growth. The transition from Pastor to Chaplain has allowed me to reflect on my strengths, my weaknesses, and how I want to best spend my professional life caring for others. And the next time you have a problem, I want you to ask yourself: Do you want someone to fix it or just be there with you and listen?