Shepherding a church or ministry inevitably means dealing with difficult personalities. How can leaders handle hard relationships without buckling under the pressure? Chuck DeGroat, professor of pastoral care and counseling at Western Theological Seminary, as well as a pastor and therapist, tackles the question in his latest book, Toughest People to Love: How to Understand, Lead, and Love the Difficult People in Your Life—Including Yourself (Eerdmans). Daniel Darling, a pastor and author, spoke with DeGroat about embracing vulnerability and avoiding the pitfalls of the church-based "hero culture."

You write candidly about having nurtured suicidal thoughts, even while serving in ministry. Should church leaders publicly share their struggles this way?

I've done research on seminary graduates who had been in ministry five or more years. They were excited to study the Bible, read deep books, and preach. But they weren't prepared for the barrage of criticism, gossip, triangulation, stress, exhaustion, and more.

Throughout my own time in ministry, there have been dark times. I've felt worthless, like it just wasn't worth it, like my wife and I were a thousand miles apart. I've had times when I felt like everyone was against me, when my inner critic was so loud I couldn't think. As leaders, we need greater permission to tell stories that include the darker edges. Every good story involves suffering, death, and resurrection—that's the pattern Jesus set! Why pretend we're superhuman when Christ was fully human?

I distinguish between openness and vulnerability. Vulnerability is saved for a few close friends and one's spouse. Openness is for larger audiences. Good leadership avoids both hypertherapeutic oversharing and fearful undersharing.

Why is personal spiritual health so important for leaders?

I was fortunate, in my own life, to have a bold counseling professor tell me what he saw—immaturity, arrogance, insecurity. We live in a culture of affirmation, and I believe in affirming young men and women entering ministry or leadership positions. But not without some honest feedback—about their relational patterns, hidden insecurities, and messianic dreams.

Spiritual health is not about climbing some moral ladder, but about what Jesus calls "purity of heart." This means that our inner life matches our outer. Remember, this was the problem of the religious leaders in Jesus' day. They were hypocrites, play-actors, doing life on stage but hollow within.

It takes time and suffering for growth to happen. This is why the poor, broken, and unclean seem to be privileged in the New Testament—they've already hit bottom. Our humiliations breed depth, grace, forgiveness, strength, courage, curiosity, and hope—all the attributes that make healthy leaders. Otherwise we'll quickly experience what happens to anyone living a lie: We'll get caught, fall, or alienate everyone we love.

Why is a proper view of the image of God vital for good leadership?

It's about knowing our story in light of God's plan—our original design, how things went terribly wrong, and how restoration happens. To know ourselves as God's image bearers is to know that God has designed us for relationship and mission. When life goes wrong and leadership becomes skewed, we've lost sight of that original design. Our relationships are strained. Our sense of purpose diminishes.

The best leaders are relationally and missionally healthy. As they turn to Christ, they're being re-tuned to live out that original design.

How can we address the "hero culture" in many churches and ministry environments?

We all want a leader we can admire. In a chaotic world, we tend to look for authoritative and omnipotent heroes who display little vulnerability or fragility. However, when we invest our leaders with authority and omnipotence that only Christ deserves, we're probably naive and very likely ripe for abuse.

Healthy leaders don't demand respect or allegiance. They invite it. They don't need you to agree with everything. They empower you, and they've succeeded if you've grown—even grown beyond them.

Forgiveness is central to leadership: It's not some cheap and quick pardon, but a surrender of one's need to hold another in judgment. Of course, we've become leaders because we're adept at analyzing, judging, and critiquing, but living exclusively from this posture is poison for the soul. We need to be able to forgive wounds and disappointments even before they are inflicted. This way, the organizational culture becomes freer. People don't walk around waiting to make a mistake or disappoint.

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