Daniel Jepsen

I’m a pastor. And I get depressed sometimes. Are you OK with that admission?

I’m told it is something of an occupational hazard for clergy.  One well-publicized study reported that 70 percent of Pastors said depression haunted them. 70 percent! Another study followed seminary graduates into their careers, and found less than 10 percent were still pastoring 10 years after their graduation. This study did not examine all the reasons why they left, but apparently most did not find the career pleasant. Presumably, their vacancies are often filled by others who are not seminary-trained.

Why is this?  This is more than an academic question to me, obviously.  I never had times of depression before stepping into the role as a pastor of a church. Why is this? Based on a little reading and a lot of thinking and reflecting (as my own times of depression have lessened in the last year) these are my observations.

First, pastors get depressed because they are lonely.  Over half the churches in this country have only one pastor on staff.  Even if a pastor has other staff, if he is “over them” then he does not have co-workers in the normal use of the term.  Much of the pastor’s time will be spent alone, in his office, not interacting with peers.

Now, of course, the pastor does interact with many people during the day.  But most of these are people he is trying to help, or who want something from him.  This is not the same as working with true colleagues.

The second reason pastors get depressed is related to the above: He is always a pastor.  Even when he is sharing a meal with a parishioner or simply talking after church, he is in a role.  It never gets turned off.  He is expected to be warm, empathetic, not too critical or negative, loving, moral, and occasionally profound.  He knows that his congregation (and the world) have expectations that he will act in certain ways, no matter the context.

Personally speaking, this is both good and bad. But the bad part is that most of the time I am unsure whether I can be me.  I always have in the back of my mind, “is this helpful or appropriate as a pastor?”

Thirdly, pastors get depressed because most of the time they simply do not see the results of their work and effort.  Malcolm Gladwell lists three characteristics of a career if it is going be fulfilling. One of those three was a correlation between effort and results (and being able to see that).  Sometimes pastors see this.  For example, a  couple whose marriage has been helped is happy and grateful, say.  But mostly any “results” are both hidden and long-term.  Perhaps this is the reason so many pastors look to attendance and other numbers to validate their work.

Finally, pastors get depressed because they realize the great gulf between who they are and who they are called to be, and the great gulf between their desire to help people and their actual ability to do so.  The modern pastor is expected (by some slice of the congregation at least) to be skilled in scholarship, public speaking, counseling, administration, and leadership, as well as having a consistent and exemplary spiritual walk, being free from pride, aloofness, laziness or any sins of the flesh, and while also keeping his family life together.  How many people do you know really have strengths in all these areas?

For me, this is I think the greatest factor in my own times as depression.  I have an image of myself living a certain way, filling a certain role, and I fail to meet that image nine times out of ten. The sense of being a failure at something you regard as exceedingly important is not a source of joy.

As I mentioned, this depression has lessened in the last year. Though I have no intention of giving others advice in this regard, perhaps it would be worthwhile to describe what has helped me.

Primarily, it is a deepening understanding of  God’s grace and sovereignty. I have come to the conclusion that I will never be a successful pastor, at least in the way this religious culture defines success. And that is OK. In fact, more than OK. God doesn’t need me or my ministry. Nothing of God fails when I do. My weaknesses are part of His wise plan, and have no bearing on His acceptance of me.  And His acceptance, His grace, are all that matter. In addition, I have this huge blessing: His graceful acceptance of me has a face. In the eyes of my wife, I see that her unwavering love and acceptance have their source in His.

When I remember this, it takes my eyes of those things that otherwise depress me. It gives me thankfulness and an inner tranquility that lead way to joy. Now, I am not saying this is my constant state. I still have times when my feelings seem not to have gotten the grace memo. But this alone stops me from despondency most days.

God loves me. Even when I am depressed. Even when I fail. He loves me.  And that is all that matters.