Strain of Confidentiality

Pastor Kathy, can I come over? I have something to tell you,” Monica asked. I was glad she was coming soon; such phone calls create a sick feeling in my stomach. Was it serious? Anything I had done?

The phone rang again. My husband Roger inquired about my day.

“Monica’s coming over to talk to me.”

“What about?” he wondered.

“I don’t know.”

Soon the doorbell rang, and I let Monica in. We sat on the couch, facing each other, while she played with the buttons on her shirt. Her eyes focused mostly on the floor.

“I don’t know how to say this. Do pastors have to keep things confidential like priests do?” I reassured her that I would keep her concern confidential.*

“I’ve been having an emotional affair. It didn’t get physical. Well, mostly not. I’m just not sure if God will forgive me.” She raised the ideas of venial and mortal sins she had learned in her Roman Catholic upbringing.

I told her of God’s promise in 1 John 1:9 to forgive whatever she confessed. Mildly reassured, she continued.

“Do I tell Keith? Is that part of being forgiven? Do I have to admit it to him? I can’t imagine what he will do if he finds out.”

I paused. Monica’s concerns grew out of her husband’s recent expressions and behavior. He had already accused her of being unfaithful. How would he respond if Monica shared her confession? I also thought of Keith’s behavior through the years, the comments about other women, the desire to choose the Alcoholics Anonymous meeting with the best looking babes.

“No, Monica, I don’t think you should tell Keith right now,” I said. “I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of transparency at the moment. You may get to a place someday where you can tell him, but I wouldn’t do it now.”

Monica looked relieved, yet still troubled. She wondered if she was forgivable without admitting her sin to Keith.

When Roger came home from work, he asked what Monica had wanted to discuss. I told him I couldn’t talk about it. As a pastor’s spouse, this wasn’t new to him. But since he knew a lot about Monica and Keith’s marriage, I’m sure he made some mental hypotheses. We avoided the issue so I wouldn’t betray Monica’s confidentiality.

The next day I was still thinking about Monica’s confession. Had I given her sound advice? I called one of my seminary mentors, and explained the details to him. Listening to all the dynamics, my mentor confirmed my conclusion. Getting his support gave me more confidence in my decision, but it didn’t make it any easier to keep it to myself.

A few months later, Monica attended an Emmaus Walk. During her retreat, she struggled again with her sin and her cover-up. Discussing the issue, I again reassured her that it was not in the best interest of her marriage to tell her husband.

“You might feel better,” I cautioned, “but think through how he would react.” During that weekend, seeing his support of her, I had a glimmer of hope that the relationship might grow to where Keith could handle the truth. I sure hoped so. The albatross around both of our necks had begun to stink.

Part of Monica’s Emmaus experience included a call from God to continue to work on her marriage. She felt God told her to trust Keith. When he came to pick her up, however, she thought she smelled alcohol on his breath. He denied drinking, and she blew up. As he insisted on his innocence, Monica felt terrible about accusing him. Had she blown her call to trust so soon?

The roller coaster ride continued, until one day Keith erupted at Monica and left the house never to return. In the aftermath she began to understand he had never really been off drugs and alcohol. Her suspicions at the end of her Emmaus Walk had been accurate after all.

Still married but separated, Monica soon learned of Keith’s sexual relationship with a neighbor. She called for support. Monica and her best friends Lynn and Andrew huddled on a front pew at church. Roger and I sat across from them on the altar cushion.

Monica expressed her disgust at the revelation. The woman involved had attended our church. Monica’s daughter and her daughter were friends. How could Keith do this to her? What about their daughter’s embarrassment?

Roger, Lynn, and Andrew shared Monica’s revulsion. Meanwhile, I had my own internal struggle. Was it fair for everyone to know of Keith’s unfaithfulness, but not Monica’s? Would Monica be able to maintain the façade of the wounded wife? I feared looking at her, afraid that my face would betray my ambivalence. But I did not reveal her past. Throughout the aftermath of Keith’s affair and the eventual divorce, I maintained confidentiality. I wouldn’t damage Monica’s trust.

That came in handy in the coming months, when I learned of questionable behavior with Monica’s new relationship. Had I blown her trust over Keith, I would have lost the right to confront her later.

I haven’t always gotten this right. Monica’s story stands out to me as one of the times I kept a high standard of confidentiality, despite the strain over a long period of time. But other times I have blown it, saying too much to Roger, or to someone else, and lost the privilege of ministering to the person.

One time, my sharing information with Roger alienated a parishioner I was counseling and resulted in his withdrawal to another counselor and church. I grieved my poor judgment and my inability to draw boundaries in the right places.

For me this has become the critical issue. I can’t risk that loss of trust. If I had lost Monica, she may never have trusted a pastor again.

One of the most effective deterrents to breaking those boundaries comes from my accountability partner. I have to answer the question, “Do you confidentially pass on to another what was told to you in confidence?” Knowing I have to face that question keeps me thinking carefully about any restricted information. Like a lab rat, I want to avoid the sting of a negative confession, so my behavior benefits from modification.

Is there a marriage loophole?

Although I kept Monica’s story confidential from Roger, on other occasions I want to inform him of someone’s burden. His gift for intercession makes him a valuable ally to my ministry. Sometimes I ask permission to share a prayer concern.

When Vanessa shared her childhood sexual abuse, I coveted Roger’s prayers for her recovery. Yet I knew that the details of her experience did not need to be disclosed. So I asked Vanessa’s permission to recruit prayer from Roger and other lay leaders on her behalf. Then I explained exactly what I would say.

“Vanessa, I will simply say that you were sexually abused as a child, and ask for prayer for your healing. I won’t include any details. Is that acceptable?” If she is uncomfortable with any facet of my explanation, then we modify until she approves it.

I only share such prayer requests with people proven to be trustworthy to not talk further about the situation, but only to pray. Those number few indeed.

After just a few visits to our church, Lana spoke to me privately. She revealed that her son Randy practiced a homosexual lifestyle. She wanted to tell me this right away and gauge my response. Partly she wanted to see if her involvement in our church was welcome, and partly she wanted to know what might be said when Randy visited the church with her.

I explained that although I consider the homosexual lifestyle a sin, our posture toward homosexuals is one of love and respect, wooing them to Christ like any other person. Because I had written some articles on this issue, I was able to reassure her of my position not only verbally, but in writing. I also assured her I don’t make derogatory comments about homosexuals from the pulpit. She didn’t need to worry about the content of a sermon if Randy showed up.

Randy did occasionally attend church with her, and we developed a gracious relationship. He expressed his thankfulness to the church for our care for his mother. I visited Randy when he found himself hospitalized.

Again, I had not shared this knowledge with anyone, including Roger. For a while, Randy tried living a heterosexual lifestyle, but returned to his former preference. Then Lana asked me to pray because Randy had opened a gay bar, and she was concerned about this further immersion into the gay lifestyle.

Lana said, “I’ve told Michelle. I told her not to tell anyone, but if it violates her marriage vows not to tell her husband Jerry, she can tell him.”

Michelle serves as Lana’s accountability partner. She had been a good support to Lana. However I knew the attitude Michelle’s husband Jerry would probably take, and didn’t relish the thought of him learning about Randy. What did their marriage vows have to do with honoring someone else’s confidentiality?

My understanding of marriage includes not keeping secrets from my husband that relate to our relationship. However to be a pastor, or even a friend of integrity, I must be able to maintain the personal issues of others even from my spouse. I wished the laity would keep this same standard.

In all the years Lana had been at our church, I had never disclosed her secret to my husband. I didn’t need to do so now, unless she chose to have me share this need for prayer. Why had I worked so hard to keep this in confidence, if she was willing to tell others?

My daughter Nora, a sophomore in high school, recently expressed a similar frustration with her friend Karen, who shared with Nora her struggles with her bipolar disorder.

Nora asked me, “What do you do when what the person shared with you is really bothering you?”

I suggested she talk to someone who doesn’t know Karen.

“That helps some, but sometimes it helps to talk to someone who knows her, and can help me figure out how to respond to her.” Nora discussed Karen’s struggles with a friend who knows Karen, but goes to another school and wouldn’t be involved in the daily issues of relating to her.

Then Nora expressed yet another frustration. Before a school camping trip, Karen narrowly avoided hospitalization for depression. Nora had been careful not to tell a couple of their school friends about Karen’s struggle, for fear they would treat her differently during the trip.

“I was so careful not to tell the others about Karen. Then Karen told them herself.”

I understood Nora’s dismay. When Lana told Michelle about her son Randy, and gave her implicit permission to tell Jerry, I wondered why I had been so careful all those years to keep this from Roger.

The need to unload

Certainly I understand how draining maintaining confidentiality can be. When Ralph came to me for counseling, I had no idea what deep problems he managed to conceal. He described his father putting a clothespin on his penis as punishment. My stomach churned as he described this incident. Another time his parents locked him in the basement. His grandfather fondled him repeatedly. After a few sessions, I determined Ralph needed long-term counseling with a professional therapist.

Referring Ralph to a therapist didn’t exorcise the demons left behind by his stories. At times like that, I need to talk to someone myself, to dislodge the webs of painful images that remain. I call my therapist friend Mark or a mentor who can listen, pray with me, and help lift the darkness from my own soul.

Next week or the week after, I’ll again find myself the recipient of the deep dark secrets of one of my laypersons. My goal is to act with integrity in guarding their privacy and maintaining their trust. Regardless of how others may respond, I hope to be able to say to my accountability partner, “No, I didn’t pass on to another what was said to me in confidence.” Not even to Roger.

* Throughout this article, names and identifying details have been changed. Kathy Callahan-Howell will be a featured speaker at the 2003 National Pastors Convention. For info visit: www.NationalPastorsConvention.com.

Kathy Callahan-Howell is pastor of Winton Community Free Methodist Church in Cincinnati, Ohio.

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