I am not a pastor anymore; it is ok.
“Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic self-hood, whether or not it conforms to some image of who we ought to be. As we do so, we will not only find the joy that every human being seeks — we will also find our path of authentic service in the world.” — Parker Palmer
For the better part of a decade, I was a pastor. I felt a call to ministry when I was in high school at a time when I was getting more serious about my faith. Mentors and friends encouraged me to consider ministry as a career and I took this to heart. I wanted to do something good in the world.
Most of my professional ministry career I worked with young people. At first, I did this to put my time in until something better came along but I just kept coming back. I loved working with young people and seeing them grow into who God was making them to be. I ended up being a much better youth pastor at 33 than I ever was at 23. I had the emotional capacity to handle the ups and downs of student life and I didn’t care about being cool anymore. I think they liked that.
In spite of growing to love the people I ministered to, the mantle of pastor always felt a bit crooked on my shoulders. Some of my friends took to the role like they were born to it but I never felt like I fit in. Every time someone asked me what I did, whether they were Christians or not, I would cringe a bit inside. I always got weird about telling people I was a pastor. I felt like it changed relationships in ways I never grew to appreciate.
For a long time I thought if I just tried harder it would get better. If I just got more disciplined or if I rooted out more sin I could make this thing fit. No amount of prayer or effort changed this for me. It seemed as though God saw my discomfort and called it good.
It wasn’t that I could not do the job. I enjoyed the work and I was good at it. On a surface level, I was happy with my career in ministry. On the deeper level of the soul, the longer I was in ministry the more restless I became.
Comfort isn’t everything. Lots of people aren’t happy with their job but I was increasingly frustrated with my career. I wanted a platform to be honest, vulnerable, and dynamic. My evangelical peers and superiors seemed to want me to stay static, guarded, and ultimately dishonest. They wanted a different person than the one I was becoming.
Something they don’t tell you when you sign on to be a church leader is that there is an unspoken expectation that you will never change. You can grow in your leadership skills or speaking style but not in your worldview or theology. Periodic seasons of doubt are allowed but not for too long and only if you come back from them exactly as you were. Journeys that lead to genuine change are discouraged.
Let’s consider what happened to the late Eugene Peterson as evidence for this theory. About a year before his death he was caught in a moment of honesty about his beliefs. Yet when the theological gatekeepers threatened to pull his books from the shelves he backtracked and returned to the approved script. Growth, change, and questions have real consequences for a pastor. Changing your mind can ruin your career.
From an organizational standpoint, I understand the need for standards. If you are a Christian church you should probably have a staff that follows Jesus. But many churches seem to have a stance for everything.
There are official views on:
Who can get married
Who can get a divorce
Who is on the approved reading list
Why you must vote Republican
Why you must oppose evolution
Why you must deny climate change
Why you must deny compassion to immigrants
Why you can’t drink beer
Why you shouldn’t dance
Why you can’t do yoga
The list goes on and on and in many circles these ever-increasing and often changing sets of rules are given the same weight as belief in the divinity of Jesus. They are proof of your faithfulness. It isn’t enough to follow Jesus and encourage others to do so; you have to buy into the whole subculture.
This created problems for me.
When I found myself disagreeing with my denomination’s stance on the LGBTQ community I initially tried to position myself as a peacemaker. I knew that open affirmation wasn’t feasible but I felt like I could at least help both sides see each other. The idealist in me thought that this is how I could make a difference.
I promised myself that I would not openly stand against my evangelical peers, but if asked, I would not lie either. At the time it was the best compromise I could think of that allowed me to inject some empathy into this debate. I wanted to make this work even if it was going to be difficult.
One day I will write more fully about this, but for now I will say that becoming LGBTQ affirming wasn’t something I was looking to do. Professionally, it would have been much easier to stick with the party line. It would feel more heroic to say I became LGBTQ affirming because I am some great crusader for human rights but that would not be the truth. I changed my mind reluctantly after many sleepless nights and difficult conversations.
You see, Evangelical Christianity was my home, my family, my culture. Making a decision that put me at odds with my faith community was very isolating. Coming out wasn’t something I was interested in doing.
That gets lost in these debates. When your convictions change, you are often accused of taking the easy way out or of bending to the “culture.” For me that was the furthest thing from the truth. Changing my mind about this and other important issues was one of the most difficult and costly things I have ever done. I did not enter into it lightly.
When it came down to it though, I could not freeze dry my faith. It is alive and always driving me somewhere even if it is somewhere that I didn’t plan on going. I know I have been called weak and a heretic but I really don’t care anymore. Those labels hold no fear for me. I am proud of who I am.
Evangelicals taught me to follow the Spirit wherever it would lead me. I was taught that it could be trusted and that it was good. Most journeys, honestly undertaken, lead you beyond the boundary markers of comfort and ease.
So the obvious thing ended up happening. I was kindly shown the door. In the process I discovered an ugly truth; a person’s desire to serve doesn’t count. The success of your ministry isn’t what you will judged by either. Only your affirmation of approved beliefs matters. As a pastor it is the most important thing about you.
Here is the thing though, I can’t bring myself to hate them for it. In the midst of all this it was evangelicals that were there bringing us food, offering to babysit, and providing us shoulders to cry on. It is evangelicals who are still checking in on us to make sure we are ok. There are days where it is tempting to write a hatchet job about conservatives, it might even be fun, but that would not be completely honest either.
Saint Augustine described the church like this, “The church is a whore and she is my mother.” It is a complex relationship. I am hurt by what she does. I am disappointed by her faults but I can’t bring myself to hate her. I am who I am because of her and for that I am grateful.
My story isn’t all that special. It is sadly very common. Some ex-pastors find a home in another church but most of us just abandon the institution altogether. It is too painful to try and go back and be vulnerable again. I can’t blame them.
I am proud of my decisions and I stand by them. Integrity doesn’t pay the bills, and honestly it doesn’t help me sleep at night either but I can say that I told the truth. I followed the divine as I understood it as faithfully and honestly as I could. That’s something I will always have. It is something I couldn’t keep and stay in ministry.
I don’t know where you are but I suspect that if you have read this far, you have a story too. Maybe there was a time the church wounded you or you found out that maybe it wasn’t the place you wanted to be. I really don’t have an answer for you but I hope my story can remind you that you are not alone.
The wilderness may feel lonely but you are not alone.
That is what sharing this story is about for me. I want to help people who are honest, hungry, and maybe don’t have a physical place to make a spiritual home. I want you to know that it is going to be ok.
If you have a story you need to get out please feel free to share it in the comments.
If you are a pastor and you aren’t sure if you fit anymore know that you are not the only one. If you need help please consider checking out The Resurrection Project. I want to support you as you wrestle with your faith.
If you would like to keep in touch I have a very infrequent newsletter that I would love for you to be a part of. As a bonus, you will receive a free copy of my ebook “Stop Believing and Start Practicing” which charts a path out of toxic spiritual belief and into healthy embodied practices. You can sign up by clicking here
May you experience the courage and support to become the healthiest, happiest, version of yourself possible.
