Pastor's Children Are People Too!

When I arrived on field at the very first church that I served as senior pastor one of the ladies in the church felt the need to inform me of all my predecessors. Among them was a man they said was named Monroe Dodd. When I first heard that name I immediately thought of the notable M.E. Dodd the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Shreveport, Louisiana. Nearly every preacher of my time and before knew Dr. Dodd. He was instrumental in the development of the Cooperative Program (The unified budget plan that has financed the Southern Baptist Convention for over 100 years. . In fact he was often referred to as the heart of the Cooperative Program.  He was the founder of the annual Pastor’s Conference that proceeded the annual meeting of the S.B.C. 

However she quickly pointed out that she was not talking about THE M.E. Dodd but rather his son. Her story was about Monroe E. Dodd, Jr. I make no claim as to the veracity of the story. In short, the story was that pastor Dodd, when announcing his resignation, stated that he only became a preacher because he believed that is what his father wanted and expected.

It was that story that got me to thinking in a serious way about the impact that being the child of a Baptist Minister can and often does have. It had been mentioned at seminary but never with any in-depth discussion. Consequently I recognized that preacher’s children often follow in their father’s footsteps, not because they are called of God but because they were training by their father’s expectations.  However, when this happens it is the exception not the rule.

All of my ministry and even into retirement I would be needled with the question, usually by a deacon, “Why are preacher’s kids so mean or mischievous?” I always thought there was an erroneous assumption underlying the question and that perhaps it was more of a statement rather than an inquiry or joke. Truth is, most minister kids turn out just fine and succeed at a better than average rate. Regardless of the motivation for that question my answer was always the same, “If the preacher’s children are mean and or mischievous it is because they play with the deacon’s kids.”

I remember an occasion when my son had gone to a place that I felt was not a wholesome place to be only to have him  in his youthful defense blurt out, "Well if it is such a bad place why were three of your deacons there?" He then proceeded to name names. My only response was, "That may be true but it is still not where I expect you to be."  Sometimes your children know your flock better than you.

After a few years serving a local church I began to understand that “preacher Kids” face a lot of challenges and are exposed to a lot of the stressful elements of church life. I saw it in my own children as they heard the unjust and unfair criticism of their father and his motives. They saw the inconsistencies in the lives of church leaders and those things no doubt affected their development. I have often wanted to say something about this but I really lacked perspective. 

Recently, I came across a posting on Facebook from a PK (preacher’s kid) that really rings true. This young woman said it better than I have ever heard it said and better than I can say it. I wish I could recall her name but I made it a point to preserve her comments.  Based on the hundreds of comments from other PK’s I think you can say she “hit the nail on the head.”

Consider her words . . . . . .

 I am a pastor’s daughter. I’ve seen first hand the beauty and pain wrapped up in a life called to ministry for almost thirty years.

 I remember the first time I heard someone say something bad about my dad. He and I were working, gathering music in his office one late afternoon, when I heard the harsh words of others.

 I looked back at him with tears in my eyes, anger and sorrow stinging my face. It was the first time I remember wondering why he even did it. I wanted him to say something, to call them out, to make them feel sorry for their words.

 Yet, there he sat. Calm. Compassionate. Merciful.

 He knew who was speaking those words, yet week after week, I watched him love and serve them, as though they had never been heard. And I did the same.

 As time went on, I began to notice more of the realities of ministry. I watched him pray over the vision God had given him. I witnessed him working hard to fulfill the vision. Then, I’d hear the disgruntled murmurs. I’d see people roll their eyes, and doubt his efforts.

 I watched him pour into people, as they turned their back to him the moment they didn’t like what he had to say. I saw him on his knees praying for so many he genuinely loved. I witnessed the tears of pain that fell from his eyes.

 Members would walk up right after service just to tell him how much they hated it. When I’d raise hell on a Saturday night, he would still get up with a heavy heart on Sunday to lead us in worship. Though there were times he didn’t understand God’s plan, he would still choose to trust Him, knowing His plan was good.

 Yet, even in the midst of God’s will, even with a family that loved Jesus, even with all the joys of serving.... ministry was HARD! Ministry hurt. Ministry has cost him... cost all of us... something. We have the scars to prove it.

 The news of a pastor taking his own life hits far too close to home.

 Though my daddy has never experienced depression or anxiety, he’s still felt the searing pain of following God’s will. He’s watched his family bear burdens of ministry. He’s soothed the cries of his daughters, hurt by the church. Yet, he has never wavered in his trust of God’s plan and the anointed calling on his life.

 Pastors and their families are not exempt from pain. They are not exempt from guilt or shame. They are not exempt from financial strain. They are not exempt from family dysfunction. They are not perfect. They still sin. They always need grace.

 As you walk into church next Sunday, look at your pastor, look over at his wife, watch his children. Look beyond the lead shepherd to the other shepherds and their families. 

 They are tired. They bear deep burdens. They wrestle with God. Yet, there they are - faithfully serving, unconditionally loving, forever trusting.

 As you look upon your pastors, pray for them. Pray for their wives and their children. Invest in them as friends, view them as humans, love them as brothers.

 And if you see one of them falling; if you feel a tug in your heart to call; if you notice their wife and children need love- minister to them as they have ministered to you.

 Ministry has revealed the true depravity of man. Ministry has etched scars upon my heart. Ministry has placed heavy burdens upon my shoulders.
 
 Yet, it was my Daddy, my pastor, who taught me how to love as Jesus, how to forgive as Jesus, how to serve as Jesus; how to live a life of worship before the throne, always trusting Jesus.

I can only join with her and encourage you to pray for your pastor but don’t forget to include their wives and children in your prayers.  I’ll say more about this in the next posting.