“A man hears what he wants to hear and he disregards the rest”
Daily I interact with church leaders, mostly to discuss the strategic side of operating their ministries. As a church grows larger, the logistical obligations grow more intense, and I get the opportunity to walk them through solutions. This can lead to some passionate exchanges; it’s challenging for some pastors to view ministry obstacles as anything but an unholy impediment.
With these kinds of pastors, if you’re not actively assisting their vision for the church, you’re potentially an agent of Satan. So when I’m forced to push back against to the desires of ministry leaders, I can be viewed as a spiritual roadblock, or even worse, an adversary of the gospel.
Personally, I’ve grown accustomed to such conflict and deal with it well. I recognize the immense stress that pastors face. These are challenging times for church leaders in the American church, requiring levels of patience and creativity for which no seminary could prepare them.
Yet more than ever in my nearly three decades of church work, I’ve begun to witness unprecedented acts of pastoral narcissism. Again, I can deal with it (I mean, they’re not my pastor) but it makes me concerned for the flocks they shepherd.
Some recent incidents lead me to explore the sin of narcissism. To be clear, I have no desire to bash on pastors; as an ordained minister myself, I know that it’s not helpful to pile on servants. Still (and you’ll note this in my take-aways) the American church and its leadership are in need of healthy accountability and this narcissism must be confronted.
If you’re reading this, you’re likely either a pastor or someone interested in the expansion of churches for the kingdom. Regardless of your position, I’m hoping you can use they words to glean some info and use it for positive changes in the church.
THE STORY SELDOM TOLD
Narcissism in a religious leader can have massive spiritual ramifications. Worshippers tend to put spiritual figures on pedestals so, when they fail, it has far reaching resonance. Unfortunately, it appears that narcissism is on the rise or, at the very least, that we’re finally acknowledging it. Generally, it’s believed that only 1% of the population has Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD); of this amount, the vast majority are men. Although that number isn’t too alarming, a 2015 study of Canadian pastors revealed that nearly 30% of respondents had NPD. Despite the average age of respondents being 60 years old, the NPD numbers are struggling. I can’t think that the emerging generations of pastors will struggle with narcissism less than their predecessors.
In presenting the research about pastoral narcissism, the study clarified what many often misunderstand about this disorder. We think that the narcissist is merely in love with himself. In reality, as the study affirms, “narcissism is more about shame and self-hatred . . . seeing oneself not as guilty of something separate from oneself, but . . . broken, ugly, and beyond repair. This shame is unbearable and must be defeated.”
The researchers continue, “shame is so intolerable to the narcissist that he develops various means to block it entirely from his experience. Instead, the shame is directed outward towards others—it can never be his or her fault. Thus the narcissist, who cannot be wrong, is vaulted into the role of victim when something goes wrong, which in itself is a powerful role.”
When the narcissistic pastor frames himself as the victim in these situations, he is actually likening himself to Jesus, mistakenly casting detractors in the roles of the Pharisees and the Roman government. The pastor with NPD would frame himself as the persecuted and scorned—as one caught in the midst of a spiritual battle. He’s forced to persevere in the light of unjust circumstances, believing that he’s carrying his cross for the kingdom.
A FIGHTER BY HIS TRADE
The quote at the beginning of this post is one I’ve often quoted. It makes sense since Simon and Garfunkel’s The Boxer is one of my favorite songs.
Written in 1965, The Boxer is a song about a man who has grappled with poverty and loneliness. He moves to New York to seek his fortune, and, though the realities of his world were brutal, he found success in boxing ring. While he emerged from the arena victoriously, his life still lacks comfort as the crowds see the boxer as nothing more than a source of entertainment; the punches that the man absorbed in the ring are similar to the metaphorical blows he’s taken from critics. In the end, he walks away, leaving it all behind.
Paul Simon wrote this as a catharsis to a life experience. As he and his musical partner Art Garfunkel catapulted to fame in the mid-60’s, the began to experience intense backlash from their growing popularity.
Yet as I examine the lyrics of the song, I see the life trajectory of most narcissistic pastors I’ve encountered.
These leaders generally have humble origins; their lack of pedigree meant they weren’t well-known as they started their career. But as they found success, they became lauded for their depth and brilliance, and the scope of their spiritual influence expanded. Even though they grew to bask in the limelight of pastoral celebrity culture, they still struggled to believe they truly belonged. Thus, they masked their shame, their brokenness, and the ugliness of not being enough. They then focused their ire on detractors while calling down curses on the haters. Grappling with self-hatred, they were like a bomb waiting to explode.
I’m not sure that Paul Simon was narcissistic when he channeled his experiences in writing The Boxer. Nor do I believe that all pastors that emerge from modest contexts are prone to this sin. Still, I think we need to acknowledge that ministers may have baggage that impacts the way they view their kingdom work. No matter how you slice it, narcissism isn’t redeemable. It needs to be called out and confronted.
CHANGES UPON CHANGES
The problem with the sin of pastoral narcissism is that it’s difficult to recognize it before it’s too late. The key, then, is for pastors to arrange their lives so they operate in systems to prevent it from happening. Three things that should value here:
1. Internal accountability
I get leery when I work with churches where the lead pastor is THE leader of the congregation. The model of church governance from the book of Acts is leadership by group. A plurality of voices (both staffers and volunteers) creates the environment for mutual submission. As much as we love the idea of visionary leader, churches are better (and more biblical) when power is dispersed among multiple people.
2. External accountability
I’ve always served in non-denominational settings. While I prefer autonomous churches/ministries, I see the benefit of denominational structures, especially when they provide accountability outside of the local church. In the absence of this, pastors ought to have healthy friendships with other church leaders. Ministers need to let other ministers speak prophetically into their lives. This, combined with internal congregational accountability, create a dynamic where the Spirit can speak to the pastor through a myriad of relationships. It’s a web that, conceivably, limits the possibility of narcissism.
3. Self accountability
There’s a great power that accompanies the ability to speak into the spiritual lives of other humans. When the preacher believes that he or she has a special position in the kingdom of God, that’s when this power can be corrupted. Braggadocious pastors always leave me concerned because they have seemingly forgotten the source of their spiritual power. We hold ourselves accountable when we’re in pursuit of humility. If you aspire to lead in Christ’s church, I suggest a deep study of Philippians 2 to see how the Savior lived this out in His life.
Regardless of your place in the world, a consideration of the sin of pastoral narcissism should lead to self-reflection. We should all take the time to look in the mirror and ask ourselves difficult questions. As much as I’ve witnessed narcissism recently, I’m using these opportunities to determine if I too suffer from NPD. Writing all this out is essentially another way of holding myself accountable.
This is why we must constantly preach the gospel to ourselves. We’re not victims, nor are we Jesus. But unless we admit that we’re in desperate need of His grace, we have little hope in being used by Him to make His kingdom come.