Three weeks ago, the pastor’s corner was on the depression which clergy can go through because of pastoral exhaustion and not having anyone to share his situation with. Let me hasten to add for those who may be wondering, that this was not and is not autobiographical. But it does point to important conversations that each of us need to have, at the very least with ourselves if not with others, about our own wellbeing. It points to the importance of supportive relationships and the ability to be honest about our limits and the times when we do feel overwhelmed and need help. That’s an “everyone” problem, not just a “priest” problem, which is why I raise it here for us to reflect on. One of the root causes for people of faith, priests and lay, to not seek help when they need it is that we tend to spiritualise our inner struggles.
“Here, we believe, lies the deepest root of the problem, and we say this speaking from firsthand experience, having spent years observing the clergy up close, in both their joys and their fractures: within Catholic circles, we have developed what we call “compensatory spiritualization”, the reflex of believing that prayer alone is enough to heal a recurrent depressive disorder, an addiction, or an untreated trauma. Prayer is the foundation, we will never deny that: fides et ratio go hand in hand, faith and reason are not opposed, they complete one
another. But reducing clinical depression to a simple “lack of faith,” we believe,amounts to serious pastoral negligence; almost a form of mistreatment dressedup as piety.
A priest who admits to inner exhaustion risks, in many of our African contexts and elsewhere, being seen as “not spiritual enough.” The faithful themselves, who often place their pastors on a pedestal as “altar demigods,” sometimes refuse to accept that a man in a cassock could ever falter. The result: the priest
smiles on the outside and collapses within; much like the prophet Elijah under the broom tree, begging God to let him die (1 Kings 19). God did not rebuke him. He let him sleep, He fed him, then He spoke to him in the whisper of a gentle breeze, not in the thunder of judgment. St. Thérèse of Lisieux passed through what she herself called her “night of nothingness.” Mother Teresa lived nearly fifty years in a profound spiritual dryness. Neither woman was any less a saint for it.”
We can often believe that prayer alone is enough, and when prayer does not have the desired outcome, we can have our faith shaken. When others whom we think are or should be more “spiritual”, such as priests and nuns, are struggling and sometimes even failing, we judge them to be not holy, prayerful or sufficiently spiritual. And maybe that’s why people like priests and religious and even lay people in the “caring” professions don’t seek the help they need. We need our hero’s to be perfect, even if it kills them.
