Because I am not serving in a church as a permanent pastor, I have the freedom to share a dilemma I suspect many pastors struggle with on the regular, "How do I let my congregation know that their feedback is not always helpful?"
Gather 'round, let me tell you a story.
One day a parishioner came up to me after worship and asked if they could have a word. Not the first time I have been cornered after worship, so I knew this conversation could go in a few directions: to inform me of a pastoral situation, to talk about a particular church program or event, or to critique the sermon I just preached or the service I just led. I still remember this particular instance because it began with kind words about the sermons I had been preaching of late. Cool, cool, cool, but there must be more, right? I remember standing there thinking to myself, "Buuuuuuuut?" because the other shoe would certainly drop soon, right? Wrong. This person only wanted to let me know that that day's illustration got him thinking about a particular situation in his life and that he was grateful.
This is what happens when we assume.
What was that about, assuming that feedback was going to be bad? Of course, these interactions right after worship often have a negative vibe, so I found myself closed off to the possibility that the interaction might be a positive one. So yeah, apparently three decades into this pastoral life, I am still living with my trauma from past stinging critiques, negative evaluations, and people just being mean.
Over the years, I've learned how to regulate my reactions when necessary. Not every word offered needs to be responded to right then and there. And in those times when a critique is so unfair or off-base that it requires immediate attention, I have learned to lovingly call people out in the moment. Most importantly, I no longer see every critique as all-or-nothing, as there may be nuggets of wisdom even in the nastiest feedback. Yes, I am 1000 times better at receiving critique than I was 30 years ago, and no, it is never fun. Yes, feedback of all kinds is helpful and needed, but it is never fun. And yes, reflecting on failures provides opportunities for growth, but it is never fun.
Before I present my grievances before the court, it is important to acknowledge that when it comes to offering and receiving feedback, constructive or otherwise, context is everything. There are so many variables at play: power dynamics, personal history, personality differences, and cultural norms. Everything must be translated.
Here are a few advisory notices for those times when you find yourself too eager to let the pastor know how to do their job.
Don't offer sermon or service critiques right after worship.
Many who plan and lead worship are already overly focused on production and flow elements. We can sometimes lose sight of the ultimate purpose of worship: to gather God's people in order to honor God. Worship can sometimes feel more like a gathering of tasks we must get through than an experience in which all involved, including the leaders, experience the holy. One reason this is the case is that participants have communicated to the pastor that not only is every worship element being assessed in real time, but they will also hear about it as soon as worship is over. Yes, there should always be an evaluation process, but if it happens immediately, the experience becomes a weekly timed test to pass rather than a divine moment for the community to share together.
The other reason not to offer critiques immediately after worship, especially if it's about the sermon, is that we are probably still exhaling from leading worship and may not be at our best. I am not responsible for my words if you come for me with accusations, innuendo, and constructive feedback in the receiving line. I guarantee you that most of us are not in the space to hear any of it. For some folks, preaching, leading, and then socializing all while wearing the pastor sash can be draining. While I understand that some might assume a pastor would want to engage while everything is still fresh, most of us really want to go home and take a nap.
Whatever critiques you were planning to lay at my feet, I promise they can wait until Tuesday.
Offer what and how you experienced a particular sermon or service.
For the love of God, please let me know how you have experienced something, either positively or negatively, and not what "people are saying," or by dropping an ambiguous judgment as if it were a peer-reviewed study backed by some unnamed group, when it is really a personal opinion.
Yes, use "I" statements. I find feedback that helps me know how you personally experienced something the most helpful. Settled decrees or verdicts, not so much. When we engage around how you experienced something, we dive in deeper and don't stop at the surface. When we engage more fully, even if we end up not agreeing and nothing changes, we can prevent any single issue from becoming a flashpoint of division because we understand one another's perspectives a bit better.
Don't presume you know what it is like to be a pastor.
Okay, this may feel harsh, but it is the one I get most worked up about. If your pastor's vibe changed after you told them how to be a pastor, and you are not or have never been one, this could be why.
I am not saying that our work and what we do are beyond accountability; rather, the assumptions made by those who hold pastors accountable must be examined. Is the feedback based on how the community has experienced the pastor's ministry, or is it given with the presumption that the one giving it knows best how to do the job of pastor?
To be as clear as possible, if you have never been a congregational pastor, you do not know how to be a congregational pastor. You may have ideas about what it may be like, or you may have seen other pastors serve in a way you like, but telling me how to do something that you have never actually done yourself is like me calling up United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Francesca Albanese, and telling her how to be more kick-ass . . . and yes, in the metaphor, I am United Nations Special Rapporteur on the Occupied Palestinian Territories, Francesca Albanese. Don't @ me. Sure, I have a vague understanding of what she does and some knowledge of the topics she covers, but in all reality, I have no idea what she really does or what is required to do what she does.
Again, again, again, I am not saying that pastors should be exempt from evaluation or accountability or that every pastor is an excellent pastor (whatever that means). What I am saying is that assumptions about the scale, scope, and particulars of pastoral ministry should be examined before offering feedback — because being a church pastor is its own kind of special.
Here are just a few ways pastoral ministry differs from other work situations...
- Sunday is is just the tip of the iceburg, so until you have had to prepare to stand up in front of people and interpret The Word of God every week for 10 weeks in a row all while juggling fluid administrative duties, unexpected pastoral emergencies, family life, self-care, being sure to eat, and trying to sleep, don't be shocked when we do not respond as our best selves when sermons are nitpicked, you get mad at something that was never actual said, or you question how much time we put into our work.
- Power dynamics are hella messed up, so until you've had to tend to the spiritual life of the same people who make decisions about your livelihood, don't act surprised when we don't share where we are not performing well, when we don't ask for help, or when we aren't willing to stir up the kind of trouble you want us to. When you control our compensation and job security, we have to pick and choose if, when, and how we will risk losing them.
- Boundaries are often seen as suggestions, so until you have had a job where you were presumed to be accessible at all times, no one uses the same communication platform, everyone has a different definition "urgent," and taking vacation is not worth the energy output of the prep or recovery, don't take it personally when we hold to strict boundaries between church, life, and self.
There are more, but these were the first ones that popped into my head.
Now, if you are a church leader reading this and your first reaction is to come up with exceptions to dispute the issues I have raised, I dare say you may be one of those causing the stress in your pastor's life. I do not serve in a permanent call, so I am freer to lift these issues up.
We are far from perfect, but I dare say none of us are.
So what now? I certainly do not want folks to walk on eggshells around your Pastor in fear of what you might say, but I hope this will give some behind-the-pulpit insights into the lives of those called to serve the church. If you are a church leader on a council, board, or session, pass this along, especially to those who tend to be unnecessarily hard on pastoral leadership.
Pastors, this thing called pastoral ministry is, at its best, a blessing, honor, and privilege, so I hope you feel a little more seen and heard.
Peace,
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