It was predictable considering his developmental story. His childhood was marked by early experiences with adversity, including being born in what might be described as a war zone, with parents who struggled to care for his needs. In adolescence, he was placed in a foster home with a wealthy single mother from a politically influential family. Struggles with his own sense of identity and inability to manage his own emotional outbursts put him in conflict with the law. It was only much later that God extended a call to ministry. While he became a spiritual leader and demonstrated a unique gifting, there was still much work God desired to do in his life.
You may have never considered the story of Moses in the above terms, but once you notice the developmental dimensions preserved in Scripture, you can’t unsee them. Moses struggled with emotional dysregulation, inability to delegate, and ultimately gave evidence for a clinical diagnosis of burnout and compassion fatigue, which threatened his ministry and his life.
All of this led a deeply heartfelt cry to God:
“Why have you dealt ill with your servant? And why have I not found favor in your sight, that you lay the burden of all these people on me? ... I am not able to carry all these people alone; the burden is too heavy for me. If you will treat me like this, kill me at once, if I find favor in your sight, that I may not see my wretchedness” (Numbers 11:11–15).
Moses had taken on himself things that belonged to God alone, and confusing these responsibilities with his own caused him to view the congregation with contempt.
Years ago, I was warned by a wise personal ministries’ leader: “We appreciate all the good work you are doing, but I’m concerned you are going to burn yourself out.” Unfortunately, my own experience with childhood adversity kept me from really hearing what she said. When church culture rewards instead of warns, burnout is almost always inevitable.
Groundbreaking research at the seminary at Andrews University and at least one other institution outside our faith community indicates that some forms of childhood trauma among pastors are roughly twice the rate of the general population. Consider the possibility that, like Moses, your pastor may also come from a place of developmental adversity. Personal pain tends to make one intuit the pain of others and sensitizes the soul to God’s call. However, childhood trauma cuts both ways and may result in the kinds of struggles experienced by Moses.
God records the human foibles of His heroes to remind us that spiritual leadership is not immune from the same influences today. During this month of pastoral appreciation, I invite you to prayerfully consider ministering to your pastor in ways that we often overlook. Young pastors in particular may be blessed by being held accountable to consistent rhythms of rest, better balance and boundaries, and prioritizing family needs.
Just as God provided Moses with needed support through the counsel of Jethro and the 70 appointed elders, our pastors today need congregations who will step alongside them — not merely to appreciate their service, but to actively encourage their well-being for the journey ahead.
Jarod Thomas is a former pastor and now practices as a therapist based in suburban Detroit.
