The year just ended, for a lot of people around me, was truly, as our late Queen once put it, an annus horribilis. In a span of six weeks this fall, I was personally involved in mourning for five people; four of whom were very tragic deaths; and earlier in the year, I saw other tragedies affecting people close to me.
Recently, as I was preparing to do a graveside service, a friend of mine prayed that I would not suffer from “compassion fatigue”. That was something I hadn’t thought of: the people mourning those deaths are the ones who need prayer; anything I might be going through is nothing, compared to their suffering. But as I thought about my friend’s concern, I realized that the people supporting those who grieve need support, themselves.
And right then, I started to feel guilty: is not even thinking, “Oh, Lord, not another one!”, self-centered and tone-deaf?
But compassion fatigue is a “thing”. A minister can get That Call at any time: it could be a death in the family, bad news in a relationship, getting jerked-around by their job or an institution: you name it.
Our human tendency to want to “fix” things, to find a magic bullet to alleviate someone’s suffering, can exacerbate that “walk of grief”. But even though a Christian minister might have a wide range of Biblical quotes and accounts at his or her disposal, those can sound lame and dismissive. Does one really want to hear “God has a plan for your life”, or “Remember what the Lord told Jeremiah: ‘I know the thoughts I think toward you … thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope’”, or even “All things work together for good for those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose”?
Even though the best thing that I’ve found is to let a grieving person vent, and not try to offer answers, facing three, four, five incidents of grief in a short period becomes emotionally exhausting. When you also realize that you’re dealing with the fifth mourner while the first is still in the early stages of grieving and processing, one can then feel even more guilt.
I asked some other pastors how they handle “compassion fatigue”. One said it’s a matter of recognizing that “I can’t give what I ain’t got”, and taking time to “stop, stretch and replenish”. Jackson Browne’s “Running on Empty”, he says, is a great song but a terrible motto.
Another pastor says he deliberately slows down, delegates tasks, and stays away from people who will never be satisfied, and instead, looks for the opportunity to bring life and light where he can.
Even now, it feels like I’m complaining, but I’m not: Being There when someone is hurting comes with the territory when you’re called into Ministry. Indeed, Christians can “delegate” these burdens to Jesus Christ, of whom Isaiah wrote, “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” And of course, a minister in any denomination can expect to be turned-to in a time of grief, since faith transcends the five natural senses and breathes hope into seemingly hopeless situations. (I can’t speak for other religions, but it wouldn’t surprise me if that was the case.) “Compassion fatigue” can hit any minister in any faith.
So as you hear of people grieving or in some other kind of trouble, spare a thought and a prayer for the spiritual “rock” that they lean on: even rocks can wear away, if they’re not supported.
Drew Snider is a pastor, a writer and author of an e-book, "A Very Convenient Truth - or Jesus Told Us There's Be Days Like These, So Stop Worrying About the Planet and Get With His Program!"
You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking, at /blogs/spiritually-speaking
* This article was published in the print edition of the Times 91原创 on Saturday, January 14th 2023
