Pastoral Burnout

For as long as I have pastored I have identified with this page from Elijah’s life. My soul and mind grind as gears slightly out of alignment when I read it again and again.
When at last God speaks it is in the still, small voice. And what does this calm, gentle voice say? “What are you doing here? Go back to work, Elijah.”
Elijah needed a mountain top experience. God gave him none.
Elijah needed to see God in the fire or the wind or the quake; he needed to know that God was ready to war against the powers of darkness in high places.
God sends him out of the sanctuary…without the fiery inspiration of an evangelist or the pumped up wind-in-the-face celebration of a praise team…God never even turns on the pre-amp. He won’t even let Elijah turn on the lights.
“What are you doing here? Go back to work.”
Pastoral burnout is so real it might as well be a rabid dog. We struggle to find ways to justify our role in a society that is hostile to Christianity or any thing that even smacks of moral discipline or dares to suggest there are lines to define moral from amoral. In our churches, pastors have lost their voice. We are no longer soul physicians. We are, at best, spiritual therapists, and at worst, the voice of suggestion that falls just below Mom’s unwanted advice on the priority list. Everything we offer our fellow disciples is negotiable. Many times I am made to feel like an accessory: fuzzy dice or a toy poodle. Folks will brag on you and love to be entertained especially when the fire falls on a Sunday morning. Then they all shout “The Lord is God” and for a moment chase the priests of Baal around in their heart. But by Tuesday the game is over and the priests settle back in. The excuses come out.
“Why are we talking about this again?” I want to say to some at times. “We can pray through this, but you have to want to let it go! You have to discipline your body, like Paul says, and deny yourself at times! And you must plead with sincerity for the Holy Spirit to do what only the Spirit can do in your life.”
But Jezebel is screaming. They are angry at the prophet. For all of Sunday’s quaking and fire and wind, the queen is still on the throne and the prophet is exhausted and depressed.
So he retreats to the mountain of God where the Law was given and God was seen.
The prophet weeps at the altar and tries to find comfort in the promises of God and to find delight in His law…
But the hand of God only takes the prophet by the chin and lifts up his downcast eyes; and with that still, small voice queries:
“What are you doing here, Rich. Go back to work.”

By faith, Elijah must accept what God has told him. I know you feel alone. But you are not. I know you think that we quit before the battle was completely won, but I’m still fighting and you will see that my sceptre is the true sceptre the moves the times and the people of the world.

And isn’t it beautifully ironic that although Elijah went looking for a mountain top experience because he was sure it was what he needed, God delivers onto Elijah’s doorstep the package containing what he really needed all along: an Elisha.

Sometimes all a worn out pastor really needs is one, whole-heartedly committed disciple.

“Go back to work.”