It was Saturday night, and my sermon, one of the first at my new church, glowed in green on the screen. Deep in thought, I scarcely noticed the telephone’s ringing, but Nancy soon called down the stairs, “Meg Sheridan is on the phone.”
I groaned. Meg had attended my previous church for several months and was always nice-but always needy.
Don’t get me wrong; I love helping people in need. The gift of mercy motivated me to pastor in the inner city for eight years. I would rejoice when from a Sunday offering of $200 (far below budget), I could give $30 to Mary, a woman from the housing project whose cupboards were bare.
Only with the overdependent do I agonize about giving. I am torn between the words of Jesus, “Whatever you did for one of the least of these . . . ,” and a suspicion that some needy people don’t fit the parable.
How do we truly help the counselee who never seems to improve? Should we support an unemployed member who bypasses a minimum-wage job? How should we minister to the person who uses illness to get attention? What is ministry to the chronically dependent?
Firm or Cruel?
Reading 2 Thessalonians 3:6-12 and 1 Timothy 5:11-13, I realize assistance can go too far. It does some people more harm than good. My experience confirms that sometimes we have to lead the chronically needy into maturity with the firmness of a father who refuses to do his son’s homework. “No” or “Only if . . .” or “All right, but next time . . .” can be loving words, especially to the complacent. Necessity is the greatest motivator-for some the only motivator.
But at times I wonder, Am I being firm, or cruel? I know impatience and selfishness lurk in my heart, and if they guide my decision, it can be as cold as a wet glove in January. So when a denial seems necessary, I’ve learned to test myself with this question: Am I concerned more about myself or them?
Better to err on the side of mercy than sin against God through neglect. But if I do truly care about someone, it’s my obligation to check for indications of harmful overdependence.
I’ve worn many hats in the ministry, however, and the worst fit is the detective’s fedora. Rather than asking for a note from the doctor, rent receipts, W-2’s, or bank statements, I usually go by instinct, taking these factors into account:
How long have they been in need? A long-term dependency may suggest a willingness to remain in that state.
As I pray for them, does God give me any impressions about their situation?
How bold are they? Responsible people tend to be reluctant to request help. The overdependent, on the other hand, may assume you should talk in the middle of the night, drive forty miles to help, and spend huge chunks of time. The price paid by the pastor doesn’t seem to matter to them.
How persistent are they? The chronically needy don’t take no for an answer. In a span of ten minutes, I literally told one guy twenty times we couldn’t help him anymore. Finally, because I was fed up, he walked out with a bag of groceries.
Do they blame others or offer other excuses? Responsible individuals own up to their mistakes.
When Giving Is Not Loving
But I’ve learned I need to check not only the person, but also the overall situation. Here are four situations in which I have found it necessary to limit or modify ministry to the needy.
If giving reinforces weakness. Some people are truly needy, but they actually seem to want dependency. Giving is not loving if I interminably offer support and sympathy without teaching them to be strong in the Lord.
A man phoned me daily for prayer, terribly afraid, always in tears, always “about to die.” I would pray each time, no matter the interruption, and briefly encourage him.
I was pleased with my compassion and patience. I now see, however, that I failed this man. He would phone during church services but never attend, walk in to buy tracts but never pray. I urged him to come to church, but, disarmed by his weakness, I poured on the shepherd’s oil while withholding the shepherd’s staff. The result: a weak ministry to a weak person.
One pastor told me about working with a lonely, single woman in her forties. “She tried to commit suicide with an overdose,” he said. “While at the hospital, she began to enjoy the attention she received from our staff and others in the church. So after being discharged, three times she called the paramedics and then took an overdose of pills.
“I confronted her with my suspicions, and she admitted using overdosing as a way to get attention. I then said that in order not to encourage this any more, none of us were going to visit her in the hospital. She hasn’t been hospitalized since.”
If giving indulges childishness. Just as a mother’s love can be taken for granted, so our generosity can prompt immature people to become demanding, ungrateful, or disrespectful. For example, the Corinthians thought less of Paul because he supported himself. We often give the overdependent more time, money, and energy than anyone else in the church, and yet they appreciate it the least.
Charles Nestor, a pastor in Oak Park, Illinois, says: “We had a woman come into our church who demanded rides from people, even though public transportation was available. She wrote repeated letters directing me to make announcements in church for others to help her. She threatened to call denominational officials if I didn’t meet her demands. She felt her need surpassed everyone else’s. We tried to help, but eventually the only thing we could do was ignore her.”
When we sense that someone is growing in contempt rather than respect, we only reinforce childishness by serving as lackeys.
If giving enables sin. Al-Anon, the support group for families of alcoholics, counsels against being an “enabler” who covers for the alcoholic. When a wife lies to an employer about why her husband missed work, she actually fosters alcoholism by shielding her husband from its consequences.
In the same manner, our ill-advised support can enable sin for those who create their own quagmires through irresponsibility, laziness, or depravity.
Says Phil Nelson, a pastor in Oak Brook, Illinois: “At a previous church, we had a young man who felt God had called him not to work. He had gotten out of the Army and moved in with another man. Finally his host told me, ‘I’m burning out. I house this guy, feed him, provide in every way, and he does nothing. I can’t take it any more.’ I suggested he confront him with 2 Thessalonians 3. When he did, the slacker found another family to live with.
“When the staff and elders then confronted him, he moved to a different town and started the same thing in another church. That church eventually confronted him, so he went to a third congregation, which did the same.
“Then, about fourteen months later, he moved back, reentered our church, and got a job.”
What feels like charity may actually cripple character if it helps people become chronic responsibility shifters, a habit with profound spiritual implications.
If giving allows others to burn out or be neglected. As shepherds, we are concerned for the welfare not only of the overdependent, but also of others. The chronically needy tax the pastor; they can total a parishioner.
One pastor says, “A woman in our church has a physical problem and does have limitations, but she also resists doing what she can. Compounding the problem, she never talks to anyone without complaining. One lady in the church volunteered to clean her house and ended up making dinner and shopping for groceries. After the fourth time of going and being presumed upon for extra duty, the helper decided she won’t help anybody anymore. Several other people have also burned out helping this needy woman. We have to warn those who help her to draw the line: ‘If it starts to drain you, stop.’ We’ve found that when no one shows up, she gets things done.”
How to wean
When we conclude that our performance as a wet nurse is harming an overdependent person, the challenge is to wean them in a redemptive way. Here are some suggestions both from my experience and other pastors’:
Be sure we have proved our concern. One approach I like comes from a church leader who says, “If someone calls with a financial need, we help him the first time with few questions asked. The second time we work with him to understand why he’s in need and to remedy bad habits. If he comes a third time, we tell him that unless he corrects his irresponsible actions, we won’t help again. The fourth time we say no.”
Verbally affirm our concern when we must say no. Even when we must decline to offer assistance, we can tell the person that what we can offer is friendship and that we aren’t rejecting the person-we simply can’t help this time.
Point out that giving them a boost has not helped, and discuss why that may be the case. Explain that love demands we do what’s best, even when it hurts.
When counseling someone who isn’t improving, one counselor advises, “Deal with that up front: ‘Marlene, you’re bringing up these same problems again and again. We’ve prayed about it, and we’re trusting the Lord for an answer. But it appears you’re not acting on the counsel we’ve agreed on. It sounds as if you’re right back to square one.’ “
In some situations, instead of knocking out all the props at once, decrease them progressively. Pete grew up in mental institutions, but despite some learning disabilities, he’s a capable person. He attended a couple of our services and then reported, “Pastor, if you don’t help me, I’ll be out on the street.”
We paid a full month’s rent for him, but as I handed him the check I said, “We can’t keep doing this. You have to get a job.” On the way out, he stocked up on food from our pantry. In each of the following weeks he also asked for bus money. I began by giving him fifteen dollars, and each time thereafter I decreased it by two or three dollars.
One month later he again requested help with his rent. He had found a job but hadn’t caught up with his bills. This time I paid half his rent, again stressing, “We don’t have the budget to continue this kind of support.”
We had gotten Pete down to occasional bags of food and bus fare when, for the third time, he asked for help with his rent. I said, “Pete, we care about you, and we’ll pay some of the bill. But this is the last time.” We paid about a third of it, and from that day on he’s taken care of himself.
Focus on answers rather than rehearsing the problem. One pastor relates, “We had a woman in our church whose life revolved around her needs, which were real. She was widowed, handicapped, in her fifties, with a semiretarded daughter, and living in a hostile environment. She would bring the subject up in every church service. If any encouragement to be strong was given, she reacted as if it were a rebuke. We found that as long as a person is consumed with her need, her sense of defeat and dependency will remain.
“We dealt with her by directing conversations to the positive, to what God was doing or could do in her life. Gradually her perspective brightened, and she became much more positive and independent.”
Do not treat ongoing needs as emergencies. Another pastor relates, “One woman uses emotional trauma to keep attention focused on herself. To help her out of this pattern, we no longer treat her ongoing needs as emergencies. If she calls about such a need, we promise to call her back, and later we do. This keeps her from being so manipulative.”
Pray with them, and, just as important, teach them to pray for themselves. Concerning the woman just mentioned, the pastor says, “She would call expecting us to do her praying. I once asked, ‘Have you prayed about this?’
” ‘No, I haven’t.’
“I told her, ‘God, your heavenly Father, wants to help you. I want you to do the praying, and then I’ll pray also.’ She did, which was a big step for her.”
As these suggestions reveal, firmness doesn’t necessarily thicken calluses. On the contrary, coupled with prayer, admonishment, follow-up contact, alternative support, and affirmation, it shows deep concern.
I learned that lesson with Richard, a young man who walked into our church several years ago and tearfully decided to follow Christ. When he revealed his homelessness a few days later, I provided my office as temporary lodging.
In the days ensuing, Richard spent more time guitar strumming than job hunting. When finally I gave an ultimatum, he found billet at a funeral parlor. He also began dating a woman in the church and skipping most of our services.
Theresa seemed happy in this relationship, even though my impression grew that he was exploiting her financially. I suggested that he wake up in time for church, get a better job, and avoid old drug-using buddies. I also asked why he was dating Theresa. Soon he drifted away. Several years later I bumped into Richard at the library, and he told me he had no relationship with God. I felt bad, though I didn’t regret the firm approach I had taken.
To my surprise, he recently phoned from Ohio to say, “Pastor, I’m living for Jesus.” For a year he has been attending a strong church. He is working. And in a subsequent letter came a wedding photo with a responsible-looking bridegroom and a happy bride.
A perfect ending? I doubt it; he probably has not overcome completely his proclivity to milk others. But Richard exemplifies what I’ve often seen: the overdependent frequently flee when handled stoutly, but that same firmness, and not softness, is what helps them most.
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