Meeting my pastor/mentor

Today, I met in person with the pastor and mentor who has been reading this blog, and who wrote me encouragingly before.

He had initially expressed some hesitation about my post concerning narcissism in the church. As we discussed this, I told him that it was intensely frustrating to myself that my parents are continually given a platform to speak and minister in churches, and set forwards as sterling examples of Christian piety.

"You may be surprised to know," he said carefully, "that the leadership here was not nearly as accepting of your parents as you seem to think." I had asked him for more details via e-mail, but one thing lead to another and we haven't been in touch. Pandemic, end of the world. You know, minor inconveniences.

As we sat and talked -- a careful six feet apart, of course -- he carefully began, "you had asked me to relate to you my experience with your parents." A kind and gracious man, I knew that my friend had thought carefully about how to approach this subject, without betraying confidences.

"For a while, your dad was completely obsessed with joining the leadership of our church. He wrote me several letters to that effect. I sent some back. Finally, I put the matter to rest with a letter. I was moving files around on my computer the other day, and came across it. I just told him," he put his coffee to the side and looked out the window, "That I just did not ever see him in leadership of our church, or set forwards as an example for our people to follow." It was harsh language, but I am sure that he found a careful way to write it. I followed his gaze to where birds of an unknown variety were flocking to his feeder.

"You know, most of his e-mails were a variation of him telling me that 'God told me,' that I need to be in leadership. And he was just so convinced that he was seeng something that I was not." I smiled involuntarily. Yup, that's my dad, I thought. "...but I just...I just couldn't. And I told him that. Yes, I told him in that letter. I asked him, 'How could you expect to become part of our team, when you have nothing positive to say about how we are doing things, and so much negative to say about everything that we stand for, as a church?"

"Thank you," I said sincerely, "for standing up to him like that."

"You're welcome," he said simply, "I really could do no different. I didn't even take it up with the elders. I never considered it a serious matter."

It was validating on two levels to hear this. First, validating that good and trusted leaders are able to spot dysfunction. Church works. It works sometimes, anyways, and my own church has a good track record of spotting people like my parents. It doesn't work all the time: my parents found another church in town, and in their new town. But narcissists are sneaky, and fool people the world over. I cannot expect every church to be wise: but it is validating to hear that my own has been discerning. Secondly, it is validating that good people like my pastor are able to see what I am seeing in my parents.

***

My pastor was very affirming of my decision to step out of ministry for a time, and to prioritize family. "When you are my age," he said, "these will be the most important decisions, the ones that you are very proud of!" We talked about the importance of truly seeking God, and not just seeking a ministry position, a reputation, or a "ministry career." These were very good and rewarding subjects.

***

Towards the end of our talk, I asked my friend what he thought of me sending my parents a simple message to the effect of, "We are done. I never want to see you again."

He was very hesitant.

"I definitely see where you are coming from," he affirmed, "but I struggle somewhat with the terminology which implies permanence. Reconciliation is such a big theme in the Bible, and so long as they are alive, there is some hope of change. And so it seems a bit hard to cut it off permanently."

We discussed this for some time, and he clarified, "I do feel like you can feel free from this. You should not feel like you are carrying the burden of reconciliation. It is not up to you. Your parents have been around enough, they should know what they did to lose you, and what to do to get you back."

***

The companionship and support of people like my pastor, my wife, and some of the others readers of this blog have been among the most precious gifts of God to me. I thank you so sincerely.