Get a friend to tell you your faults, or better still, welcome an enemy who will watch you keenly and sting you savagely. What a blessing such an irritating critic will be to a wise man, what an intolerable nuisance to a fool!
Charles Spurgeon
Nobody enjoys criticism, especially from dragons. Their “constructive” observations often come across like a wrecking ball — maybe beneficial in the long run, but the immediate effect is noise, rubble, and a large hole in your self-esteem.
Yet even dragons can sometimes be right, and almost all pastors are willing to benefit if the criticism is valid. As Proverbs 17:10 says, “Criticism to an intelligent person has more effect than a hundred lashes on a fool.”
The problem is deciding which criticisms are valid and which are unjustified. It requires a tough hide and a sensitive heart. And a few specific criteria don’t hurt. Here are several tests pastors have identified to help distinguish fair from unfair attacks.
Consider the source. The first test is the motivation of the critics. Are they truly well-intentioned? Are they committed to ministry? Do they want the best for the church? Are they people of integrity? Are they self-aware enough to understand the issue and accept their share of the responsibility or blame?
Psalm 141:5 says, “Let a righteous man strike me — it is a kindness; let him rebuke me — it is oil on my head. My head will not refuse it.” The righteous, those of integrity who are spiritually mature, must be taken more seriously than impulsive dragons.
The number of sources making the same criticism is also telling. Church dragons often claim, “It isn’t just me but a lot of people who feel this way.” Unless those other people step forward, however, you can afford to be skeptical. Pastors can apply 1 Timothy 5:19 even when the charges are laid against themselves — “Do not entertain an accusation against an elder unless it is brought by two or three witnesses.”
Solitary shots should be ignored, but when they come from several directions, it’s time to pay attention. As someone once said, “If one calls you a donkey, ignore him. If two call you a donkey, check for hoof prints. If three call you a donkey, get a saddle.”
Consider the spirit in which the criticism is given. Gauge the emotional climate. Does this particular criticism come out of rational reflection or emotional fervor? From weeks of observation or hours of upset? Fair criticism, like fertilizer, should be gentle enough to nourish a person’s growth without destroying the roots.
Sometimes criticism is the only way a person knows how to initiate conversation. It’s a way of getting attention before moving into the real subject he wants to discuss.
If a person takes the time to talk privately, in person, however, and assures you of his love and loyalty before offering his criticism, and is willing to help with the solution, it’s more likely to be a fair criticism. At least he’s thought it through and is committed to solving the problem.
James D. Glasse described the distinction this way: “I would rather be disagreed with by someone who understands me than to be agreed with by someone who does not understand me.”
Unfair criticisms are more likely to be received over the phone, in passing at the rear of the sanctuary after the service, or indirectly via a third party who tells you, “Mrs. Canfield is upset with the new hymns we’re singing.”
Another factor is determining whether the person really wants to help or just likes to carp. A deacon in an Indiana church is in the habit of calling the pastor each Sunday afternoon and “evaluating” the morning service. “I told him that Sunday afternoons were a bad time for me,” says the pastor, “that I was drained from preaching and needed to prepare for the evening service, and that if he really wanted to help, he should see me during the week.” The Sunday afternoon calls continued.
“I don’t take those kinds of criticisms seriously,” says the pastor. “Now I read the paper while he drones on over the phone.”
Consider hot anger a sign that something more is involved. Sometimes a dragon is so angry you’re almost paralyzed by the outburst. “If I had attacked his wife in front of the congregation, I could expect such anger,” says a pastor who’s still puzzled. “But all I said was …”
The natural reaction is to try to pacify the irate accuser at all costs. Silence, however, is usually the best defense.
If the anger is all out of proportion to the issues raised, chances are the real issue hasn’t surfaced. The only thing to do is hear out the person completely. Sometimes the catharsis will uncover the hidden agenda.
“It was one of those rare professional moments,” says an Episcopal rector in Ohio. “I didn’t react nor did I get angry. I just listened as he went on for twenty minutes. His voice was loud and strident. His list of grievances seemed endless: this was wrong with the Christian education program, that was wrong with maintenance. I was at the center of it all.
“Suddenly, almost in mid-sentence, he blurted out, ‘She says all I’m interested in is sex.’ For the next hour we talked about his marriage. The ‘issues’ were never raised again.”
If the underlying issues don’t emerge, it’s time to use trusted elders or other lay people to help the dragon sort through the feelings. You may have to coach them on how to approach the dragon. For instance, one tactic the mediator might try: “Hank, we’ve been friends a long time. I care about you, and I’m sorry you’re so angry. Everyone knows our pastor isn’t perfect; yet your anger seems out of proportion to the situation. Is there more to it than what I’ve heard?”
Problems at work, personal pain, financial setbacks, or a recent loss may produce unresolved anger the dragon doesn’t know how to deal with, emotions he may not even admit to himself. So he unloads on the minister because ministers don’t usually fight back. Helping the dragon realize there’s more than the surface issue will offer the opportunity for growth.
Another approach is asking the angry person, “Let’s look at this issue for a minute and see what the likely consequences are. What’s the worst possible thing the pastor’s position could lead to? Would the rest of the church allow that to happen?” Calmly putting into words the probable chain of events sometimes makes the dragon realize eternity isn’t at stake.
If the criticism passes the source and spirit tests, then consider it prayerfully. In 2 Kings 19, Hezekiah offers a good model. When Jerusalem was besieged by the Assyrian hordes, Sennacherib, a not-so-well-intentioned dragon, sent a taunting, critical letter to the king of Judah. Hezekiah took it from the messenger, read it, went up to the temple, “and spread it out before the Lord.”
In dealing with a dragon’s criticisms, we too can spread it out before the Lord, asking him to show us what is true in it. If it’s valid, the Lord will help us benefit from it. If it’s unjustified, we can say, “The insults that have fallen on me, Lord, have fallen on you too.”
Consider concrete criticisms more seriously. Complaints that are vague and general, such as “I’m not being fed” or “I’m not growing,” usually say more about the complainers than the church. They may actually be overfed but underexercised. Those genuinely needing less milk and more meat will probably be able to be more specific in their requests and offer their own helpful ideas.
Likewise, if people criticize things you can’t change (your age, for instance), or things they knew and accepted when they called you (your preaching style), the criticisms are probably unfair.
“Some people demand ‘evangelistic messages,’ but what they really mean is they want an invitation after every sermon,” says a South Dakota pastor. Others want to hear certain familiar words in each sermon or expect a certain style.
On the other hand, take criticism of sermons seriously. If people complain about theological language, big words, or length of sermons, it’s obvious your sermons are not communicating, and putting God’s Word in language people can understand is the purpose of a sermon.
One preacher was criticized for his grammar by a former English teacher. After her third complaint, instead of reacting defensively, the pastor admitted his schooling had been weak in that area and asked her where he could sign up for a night class. He took a quarter of adult education, and despite his subsequent lapses of grammar occasionally, the former teacher became one of his strongest supporters.
Consider the criticism calmly. A veteran pastor in Toronto has a standard reply to every criticism: “You may be right.”
“By saying that, I haven’t conceded a thing,” he explains. “It gives me time to mull it over, it tells the critic I’m taking the observation seriously, but it doesn’t commit me to a particular response.”
Other pastors respond, “Let’s talk about that this week. Will you give me a call?” which leaves the initiative with the critic and tests how strongly the complaint is felt.
Since most pastors get the bulk of criticism on Sunday, when they’re weary and emotionally spent, this delaying action is especially helpful.
“Never deal with criticism on the same day it’s received,” says the Toronto pastor. “Especially on Sunday. In fact, I usually can’t deal with it until Tuesday. Psychologically and physically, I’m used up; too much adrenalin has been pumped.”
Consider criticisms corporately. Objective friends, a spouse, or private conversations with individual board members can provide perspective.
Sometimes we can read into comments criticisms that weren’t intended. “One person told me, ‘You spend a lot of time telling stories in your sermons,'” says a Colorado minister. “I didn’t have time to ask him to elaborate, but I thought he meant I was simplistic. Later the man’s Sunday school teacher reported the man had told him he’d finally found a church where he could understand the sermon. What I’d taken as a criticism was actually a compliment.”
More serious criticisms should be weighed by the church board as a whole. Referring a dragon to the board, where the issue can be discussed and decided corporately, is not just passing the buck. It’s enlisting help in evaluating the validity of recurring criticisms. And besides, they have to live with you and whatever response you decide to make.
Often certain individuals will go to a conference or hear a particular speaker, and they come back saying the church ought to fit this great idea into its ministry. They don’t consider how it would affect the total church program or where it should fit in the list of priorities. Those questions must be decided by the board, those appointed to give direction to the church.
Finally, complete your consideration. Criticisms can’t be left unresolved indefinitely. At least mentally, it is better to decide within several days whether this criticism is something to act on or something to forget. Fretting week after week is the worst response.
“I have a wonderful spiritual gift — the gift of amnesia,” says an Illinois pastor. “When I came to this church, I asked the Lord for two things: the ability to remember names and biographies, and the ability to forget situations. I work at forgetting the things I’ve heard that I can’t do anything about, and the Lord has honored my efforts. It’s a wonderful, wonderful thing. It’s not denial or a psychological trick; it’s simply processing criticisms and setting aside those I’m not able to meet.”
Many critics are only part-time dragons. They battle only infrequently. They may be hurt, ill, emotionally tied to a particular issue, or otherwise temporarily out of sync. The gift of amnesia is most helpful with these.
“The key to a discipling and reconciling ministry is to see that people change,” says the Illinois pastor. “You must not dwell on what they were but what they are becoming and what they can become. The pastors I know who’ve gotten into the biggest trouble are those who can’t let go of past hurts. They turn part-time dragons into full-time monsters.”
Criticisms can’t be ignored, nor should they be allowed to set the direction for the church. Every pastor walks that delicate line between steering and being steered by the congregation. As they weigh the criticisms, most ministers occasionally wonder, Am I being followed or chased?
Leadership journal ran a one-liner that all too often describes the pastor’s situation: “There go my people. I must hurry. I am their leader.” This tension isn’t all bad. A leader who takes no cues from the people is a dictator; the leader who tries to satisfy every critic gains neither respect nor effectiveness. Both extremes sabotage pastoral ministry. The pastor is not a dictator, arrogantly above criticism, nor is the pastor a garbage dump, passively accepting the abuse of the disgruntled.
“I’ve always felt the pastor’s biblical authority is so high it’s scary,” says a seasoned Iowa minister. “But the pastoral office can only function in grace as it is honored and recognized by the people.”
As such, the pastor is more like a president than a dictator — leading, but only with the consent of the governed.
A pastor’s authority requires two ingredients: God’s appointment and call, and the body’s respect for his leadership. Losing either side of the equation spells an end to effective ministry. Sensitivity to valid criticism and the ability to shrug off unfair comments will not help if the divine appointment is missing, but it can go a long way in producing the necessary respect within the body.
Copyright © 1985 by Christianity Today
