The view from the pew, reflections from a retired clergy: guilt and peace edition

The Guilt Factor

I’ve been retired from formal ministry for nearly three years now. Frankly, Christianity looks a lot different from the pew–and away from the church bubble.

I just wrote a resignation letter to a non-profit agency where I have sat on the Board of Directors. I believe strongly in the mission and appreciate the excellent work they do. But I moved from the immediate area, making it nearly impossible for me to be the kind of Board member they need and that I want to be.

All logical reasons, and the other Board members have wondered if I would need to leave.

But . . . I find myself consumed with guilt. I could still do the work if I were willing to spend a lot more hours from home, from my writing and, mostly, from my husband.

In other words, if I were still being the good Christian woman, I would sacrifice my own personal pleasure, the leisurely hours together my husband and I treasure, and my own meaningful work for the sake of this ministry.

That is what women do. More: that’s what clergy do. We are routinely called to sacrifice family on the altar of ministry.

A clergywoman asked once in a clergy forum for some tips as to how to model the life of Jesus better in order to avoid ministry burnout. I thought about it a bit and realized that the model of Jesus–three years of intense ministry and then die–may not be the best one for most of us to model.

I doubt clergy burnout is any worse than say, physician burnout, but for one thing: we’ve got Jesus held up as the standard by which our ministry is to be measured. We need to feed people, teach people, challenge people, lead people, and then, ultimately, to die a horrific death for people, offering forgiveness at the moments of our greatest agony.

I had kept myself busy with ministry for a ridiculous number of years, pretty darn sure that if I didn’t do all those things, the teaching, the caring, the leadership, the visiting, the studying, etc., that there were people who would not come to Jesus. In other words, their “salvation” as I understood it then was dependent upon my actions, Nothing like a bit of hubris!