Relationship Overload

Handling people need not be so difficult — all you need is inexhaustible patience, unfailing insight, unshakable nervous stability, an unbreakable will, decisive judgment, infrangible physique, irrepressible spirits, plus unfeigned affection for all people — and an awful lot of experience. Eric Webster

Listen to these pastors as they describe their common problem: “Trying to meet relationship needs at home and church, in addition to the other duties of my office, often proves too much for me to handle.”

“I’m a pastor of a new church that is growing rapidly and moving from the stage where I knew everyone to where I cannot possibly have a significant relationship with them all. Yet people are reluctant to give up that small-church intimacy, particularly with me.” This pastor concludes that he’s left “feeling like no matter how hard I work at relationships, I am never anywhere close to being caught up.”

A third pastor is bothered by “trying to be ‘friend’ to all people when you cannot adequately fulfill their relational needs. I struggle with the quality of relationships (discipling) versus quantity of relationships (able to say hello and know everybody’s name, but that’s all).”

These three, like most pastors, are painfully aware of one of the biggest challenges in the modern ministry: relationship overload.

There are so many needy people out there who want to be with you. They need a friend; they need counsel; they need someone to just give them a little attention; they need to participate vicariously in someone else’s successes because they feel they have none of their own. Many of these people will hang around a pastor. After a while, you can begin to feel as though you’re being nibbled to death by minnows. None of these people creates big demands by himself or herself, but put them all together and you can feel overloaded in a hurry.

Pastors must deal with these folks and their legitimate needs. The result can be worn out and frustrated ministers who feel they’ve invested time and effort in many relationships, but without much lasting satisfaction. Despite the many hours put in, pastors often end up feeling guilty they weren’t able to do more.

Why There’s a Problem

Relationship overload is caused by both the nature of the pastor’s role and, in some cases, by the personal needs of the pastor.

There’s no doubt that in this area, the pastor’s job is much tougher than it used to be. In centuries past, the pastoral role was largely liturgical. The prime function was proclaiming the oracles of God. But in recent years, increasing numbers of people have begun to assume the pastor is their personal counselor, confidant, and friend.

Today the pastor is in front of the entire congregation each week, and people come to think they know the pastor very well. Most pastors invite them to think that way, too, sort of like Johnny Carson on TV, using anecdotal, self-revealing illustrations to emphasize points in the sermon. In contrast to a Jonathan Edwards, who was known to stare straight ahead at the back of the sanctuary as he warned sinners not to fall into the hands of an angry God, today’s pastors, through eye contact, a smile of recognition, and tone of voice, create an atmosphere of intimacy and acceptance. The service cultivates the idea that in the Christian life, we’re all brothers and sisters. Further, in keeping with the familiarity of contemporary society, most pastors address people by first name, even those known only superficially. And people, in return, think of the pastor on a first-name basis.

I experience this with the radio broadcast Family Forum, which airs daily around the country. The format of the show is to read a letter, which starts out, “Dear Jay,” and then describes a common family problem. I attempt a specific and practical answer. The result of even this rather unsophisticated media exposure is that people often come up to me in churches, restaurants, or shopping centers and start a conversation as if we were old friends. Then, in embarrassment, they stop and say, “I feel like I know you because I’ve heard you hundreds of times talking about things that affect my life.” Authors sometimes get the same reaction from readers.

In a similar way, preaching, teaching, and newsletter articles can magnify the expectation level of people who think they’re intimate friends with the pastor. Under these circumstances, people feel as though they’ve been invited to come up and talk at any time about almost any subject, and it’s inevitable that pastors will sometimes face relational overload.

Now, I meet some pastors who talk about the importance of intimacy up front and then complain about “the press of the crowd” when it happens. I remind them they can’t have it both ways. This sense of intimacy is part of the unwritten contract of the modern pastorate. The nature of the job today requires a certain level of relational overload. It goes with being visible, and we’ve got to learn to live with it. In a sense, it’s a sign that we’re successfully creating the climate we intended.

I’ve met other pastors who say it makes them feel hypocritical to act interested in people when they are not, so they, in the name of honesty, refuse to sham concern and don’t try to relate to people. We all understand the feeling, but I remind them that people aren’t really interested in our honest feelings. They want help, and they feel they need it now. My job is to show concern, not crankiness. The idea that if you feel irritable then be irritable, and if you feel happy then be nice to others, makes me a slave of my emotions rather than an obedient servant of Christ. If we condition ourselves to try to be interested and actually allow ourselves to genuinely enter into empathetic response, my experience shows that God will provide the feelings of concern.

Another reason for relationship overload is that despite our complaints, for many of us, it helps to meet our own emotional needs. Pastors tend to enjoy being with people, being accepted by them, being needed by them. Many of us, on the other side of the coin, fear rejection, which complicates the problem. We would feel deserted if people didn’t come to us with their problems. Thus, we can feel torn between relational overload and our personal need for that contact.

A final reason for relationship overload is that many pastors are caught up in the contemporary emphasis on being better managers — what we might call the Peter Drucker cult. This group, in my opinion, misreads Drucker, but nonetheless they attempt to be superefficient clergy managers. The managerial approach calls for you to be goal oriented: to chart your aims, to set a schedule for meeting those goals, to plan each day’s activities with your goals clearly in mind, and to see people as one of the resources you use to reach your goals.

There are pastors who follow that approach faithfully. Some want to build big churches; some have other visions. But whatever the specific goals, they begin to see people primarily as a means to an end. You’ll even hear some pastors referring to people as “donor units.”

I’ve followed church staff members through the crowded halls of major churches and noticed in some cases that no one spoke to them, nor did they nod or say hello to any of the people. Now this, of course, is not unusual in large office buildings or malls where modern Americans gather to work. When I wondered aloud if this depersonalized approach belonged in the church, I was told, “They know I’m busy, and they didn’t want to interfere.” Maybe so. They may not be offended by this emphasis on efficiency and function, but just because the world is fragmented and impoverished in its relationships, should the church be also?

Whether pastors work out of a managerial perspective or not, they may find that a number of their board members do and are likely to apply the methods they use every day in business to their expectations of the pastor. Thus, if the pastor tells them about the tension and says the needs of people have kept him from accomplishing certain goals within a specified time frame, he’s likely to hear something like: “Well, you’re going to have to learn to handle your schedule better. You’ll have to cut back on your counseling; it’s not your only priority. You’ll have to learn to say no to people.”

When a church adopts this approach, people and their problems become interruptions and distractions, not opportunities for ministry. Such churches are looking for people to bring solutions to their problems in reaching their goals; the churches may have lost sight of the need to serve the individuals God is bringing to them.

A Matter of Perspective

To my mind, the key to dealing with relationship overload is a matter of perspective. It depends on how you look at the situation.

My perspective is shaped, first of all, by the biblical perspective of the worth of human beings, that people are an end in themselves, not a means to some end of mine.

I have a friend, a Bible translator, who went to live with the Cofan Indians in South America, a tribe of only six hundred. He would make noises and point to objects. They would make noises back. Imagine those conversations: “Nose.” “Nose.” “Ear.” “Ear.” “River.” “River.”

Eventually he taught them that their sounds could be put on paper, and he taught them to read and write their own language. Then he translated the Bible into that language.

Now, why did he go to all this trouble? And why do churches support him? After all, there are only six hundred of these Indians. Why not load them in trucks, ship them to Quito, Ecuador, teach them a pidgin Spanish, and have them drive taxis? Why dignify them by sending a man with a $40,000 Christian college education and a $20,000 graduate school degree to teach a few unimportant people to read God’s Word?

Why? Because of the unique and distinct truth held by the church of Jesus Christ that people are valuable to God, that each individual is eternal and worthy of our respect.

As I study Scripture, I note that while Jesus did seem to have certain goals in mind, he nonetheless lived almost totally as a responder. That is, the demands and needs of the people around him set his agenda. He didn’t make out a schedule first thing in the morning and then strictly adhere to it. He saw people and their needs as an opportunity to minister, and that’s just what he did.

In retrospect, we can see that Jesus intended to “go up to Jerusalem” as an overarching goal. Moment by moment, however, he ministered to those around him and those he met. If we insist on seeing the pastorate in managerial terms, we will either increase our frustration with relationship overload or diminish our effectiveness with individuals.

It has always seemed to me that in a sense I should be grateful for the overload, since it indicates I’m meeting a need. A pastor is to be a shepherd. A shepherd’s job is caring for sheep. In other words, people aren’t an obstacle to our work — they are the work.

If a pastor creates a climate in which people sense he doesn’t want them around, they won’t want to learn from his example, and they won’t feel free to seek his counsel. Is that pastoring? It certainly limits the ministry. Those who have called witness “withness” may be on the right track.

All this being said, however, there are still some practical steps we can take to deal with relationship overload.

Beyond Relationship Overload

My first suggestion is to check where you are spiritually. I’ve discovered that when I’m feeling particularly overloaded, I may have let my spiritual life slip. Without trying to sound overly pious, I find I may need to make time to pray alone, to meditate on Scripture, to just be with God, casting my cares on him.

Bill Leslie, pastor of LaSalle Street Church in Chicago and one of the most effective ministers of our time, tells about facing one such time in his ministry. He met the mother superior of a convent near his church, and he told her he felt like a pump; people were constantly pumping him, and he was running dry.

“Let me get this straight,” she said. “You say they’re pumping on you. Didn’t you ask to be pumped, to be used of the Lord? Aren’t they doing just what you asked them to do?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, I don’t think you need to ask them to quit pumping,” she answered. “You need to get your pipe down deeper. You’re sucking air, and you need to get down to where you’re in the water again.”

Her analysis, Leslie said, was right on target. Many of us find ourselves from time to time in exactly the same position. And we, too, can benefit from making sure our pipes are deep enough to draw the Living Water. That way, people are not pumping us dry; we are merely the conduit as they tap into the resources of God himself.

A second practical suggestion: Take advantage of time right after worship services. A great deal of relational ministry can be accomplished in the half hour after you preach as you stand outside the sanctuary and greet people. Many of those going through the line will just want to say thanks for the message. Others will want to tell you how that message particularly met a need; they may want you to amplify a certain point; they may ask how they can apply the message to a situation they’re facing; they may choose this time to tell you about a friend who’s ill.

I try to spend a moment or two with each person who wants to say something; I don’t rush them through the line. If I listen carefully, maintain eye contact, answer briefly, and give them a warm handshake or hand on the shoulder, this can create all the intimacy many people need, as well as a climate in which future messages can lodge more effectively and change lives.

I’ve also found that if you remember enough to ask a question next time you see the person, you affirm the person in a powerful way. “How did it go this week in applying that idea we talked about?” “How is your mother’s heart condition? Keep me informed.” “Did you get that job you were hoping for?” It’s amazing the impact you can have in these brief conversations.

If your memory isn’t good with details of such discussions from week to week, I have three suggestions. First, make sure you’re listening well when people speak. It’s easy to get distracted in that setting. Concentrate on hearing the person in front of you.

Second, learn a little more about the person’s family background. It’s easier to remember details when the person is more than just a name to you.

Third, if all else fails, make notes immediately after the last person is gone and while the conversations are still fresh in your mind. Pray over those people and their needs during the week. And then review the notes before church the next Sunday.

One of my mentors is a pioneer in the Youth for Christ ministry, Jack Daniel. He impressed me in a permanent way by putting teenagers’ names on 3-by-5 cards. At a camp with two hundred kids, he would put each name on a card with some fact about that teen. All week he would spend his leisure hours adding notes and observations and memorizing the names. By week’s end he would know each one, and he was able to say something special to each. I’ve never known a more powerful example of effective caring for youth. Twenty-five years later, I’ve talked to people who still cannot get over the fact that Jack knew their name. This is relational ministry at its finest.

A third practical suggestion: Deal with as many things as you can right on the spot. In the past, whenever someone would want to talk to me, I’d say, “Let’s make an appointment.” Very quickly, as a result, every day was filled with a continual, frustrating backlog of appointments. I finally decided instead to answer people, “Let’s do it right now.” And it has worked out well.

In two cases out of three, the matter can be addressed in a couple of minutes, and your calendar doesn’t get jammed up. Often the person needs only a little attention. Maybe he wants to tell you that Uncle Henry, for whom the church has been praying, is doing better; maybe he wants to describe something he or one of his kids accomplished; maybe he has a question you can answer on the spot.

In these situations, I’ve found people are more willing to talk if I take off my jacket and lean against a wall or doorframe as if I’ve got a little time on my hands. It communicates my availability and attention, and it seems to get things out in the open fairly quickly. Conversely, if I need to bring the conversation to a close, putting my jacket back on sends the subtle and polite message that I need to wrap things up and move on.

Likewise with people who drop by the office, if I think the conversation doesn’t need to take long, I’ll get up from my desk and meet them at the door. I remain standing and carry on the discussion just inside the door. It’s easy for a conversation to go longer than necessary if everyone sits down. Yes, sometimes longer meetings are necessary, but most of the time you can keep the length of drop-in visits under better control if you stay standing.

Of course, if a lengthy discussion is needed, you can always go ahead and make an appointment, but those cases are in the minority.

I’ve also found that breakfast and lunch are excellent times for relationship-building meetings. There’s a certain magic about food and people that helps to build rapport. So I try to use those two meals for relational times almost every day (preserving dinner as an uninterrupted family time). One friend has even developed the habit of having two breakfast meetings per day, an early one at 6:30 and then another at 7:45. I’m not sure I’d want to do that all my life, but meals are an excellent opportunity to build relationships.

A fourth suggestion: Refer those who come to you for help to someone else when possible. It’s freeing to remember you don’t have to be the sole dispenser of help. And not only does referring people help to prevent relational overload, but you also are probably giving the person better care. I often get a person together with someone who has already gone through a similar situation.

With prior permission, for example, I’ve referred people to someone who’s previously gone through bankruptcy, to a mother whose daughter got pregnant out of wedlock, to a man who lost his job in midlife — a variety of difficult experiences I haven’t gone through myself.

The church is also strengthened when more people get involved in helping. Those who do the helping will grow in ways and at a rate they never would otherwise as they restate their pilgrimage and reinforce their solutions. They, too, learn the joy of serving.

One time when I was pastoring, a boy in our church got arrested for peddling drugs, and the gossip quickly spread through the church. I decided we should try to face it forthrightly, so I asked the parents of the boy if they would be willing to meet with some other parents. “Everybody’s talking about it anyway,” I said. “Let’s get some couples together, and you just tell them how you feel.”

A number of parents from the youth group came, and as they heard how this couple had faced the problem, they were also able to voice their concerns with their own kids. Afterward, several of the men called the boy who had been arrested and told him, “We don’t consider you a bad person. What you did is wrong, but we know you want to straighten out. We want you to know you’re welcome in our home.” The young man was deeply grateful for that support.

A fifth suggestion: Make sure you have some hobby or project that has definite steps of completion. One of the most wearying things about ministry is that the job is never done. Discipleship is a never-ending process. People’s needs are never completely put to rest. Relationships continually need maintenance.

That’s why I found I needed to do something I could finish. For me, the answer was wood carving as a hobby. It allows me to work with my hands, and it’s very different from my job responsibilities. I have a shop set up in the basement where I do most of my work, but I can also take my current project and a few tools with me whenever I travel. Recently I’ve been carving duck decoys. My kids jokingly explain to their friends that “Dad’s in his Early Duck Period.” They may not be great artistically, but they’re magnificent therapeutically.

Finally, let me suggest that if relationship overload and other demands are leaving you with no free time and you feel a strong need for time to exercise, pursue a hobby, do recreational reading, or whatever, you almost have to look for times that aren’t convenient to others. If you want to jog at 6 a.m., for example, not many people will bother you. If you’re dying to read that new novel by your favorite author, you won’t be interrupted by many phone calls at midnight. Even Jesus had to get up “before it was day” to spend time alone.

Of course, you’ll probably have to be able to get by on less than eight hours of sleep to take advantage of those times, but it’s the surest way I know to find solitude, and I don’t know many other ways.

I hope some of these suggestions for dealing with relationship overload prove helpful. But the best thing to remember is that while these relationships may seem burdensome, they do demonstrate that you’re meeting a need. You’re fulfilling your highest calling as a pastor, which is to care for people. Your congregation is telling you that they’re blessed by seeking you out. May the Lord add his own rich blessing that can only come out of serving him and ministering to people.