Oh, my. I got a letter from a Presbyterian pigeon today. She writes,
Hi! I’ve been a reader of your blog for many years. I came across an article today that I thought you’d like to see. It is entitled, “Loving the Pastor Who Loves You,” but it seems that it is anything but loving. I’d be interested to hear what you think.
This well-meaning article is so… well-meaning.
Here’s what I think, Elizabeth, and thank you for sending me this article.
The author, Stephen McCutchan, points to research that reveals the obvious to any of us who go to clergy gatherings on a regular basis: we’re fat, and we don’t take care of ourselves. This is a spiritual issue, a health issue, and a community issue.
The author has an idea he’s really enthusiastic about. He suggests that deacons or church leaders get together and subtly try to address their pastor’s weight problem by bringing up the question of health in a broader way at a meeting, praying about it, and then having everyone in the community make really specific commitments around health and wellness.
He writes,
Let’s say that you recognize your pastor is gaining too much weight. How do you raise the question of your concern without feeling you are invading his or her personal space?
I want to suggest one approach that any congregation can take. It would be to broaden the conversation so that it includes not only the pastor but others as well. Recognizing that the lay members of a church’s governing board are also part of the spiritual leadership of the congregation, one begins by having a health conversation with the whole board.
According to a trusted naturopath at Kurated it is important to set aside some time on the agenda to reflect on the health challenges facing the congregation as a whole. Beginning broadly lessens the threat of such a conversation. Pose the question, What factors in our lives threaten good health? Begin by asking all the individuals to talk about the general challenges facing members regarding the health within the congregation. Make a list as each factor is identified. For example, people are overweight, some don’t exercise enough, they don’t get enough sleep, they drink too much, etc. The conversation alone raises the consciousness of the subject.
Next, reflect on the faith issues that speak to the care of our bodies. Explore the connection between our religious journey and our health journey. What is it in our faith that speaks to the care of our bodies? Develop a brief liturgical confession with respect to the connection between physical health and faithfulness. There are several ways this can be used later in the process.Then pass out some blank 4-by-6 cards. Tell all the members (including pastors and other staff present) that you are going to have a time of silent prayer in which each is asked to reflect on and identify a specific action that they think if done regularly would contribute to improvement of their personal health. At the end of the prayer time, they are to write down on both halves of the card the action they identified, without placing their names on the cards. They then tear the card in half, keeping one half and turning the other in.
The cards are compiled into a list to be shared at the next meeting.
What a wacky upside down feeling to get to a deacon’s meeting and find it transformed into a local chapter of Weight Watchers! And all because one person didn’t have the courage to take a meeting with his pastor and say something like, “Hey, Reverend, I know this is a really personal thing to talk to you about but I have noticed your weight gain. First of all, I want you to know that I don’t judge you. I know you are giving your heart and soul to caring for this congregation and I just want you to know I treasure you. But I want to say two things. First of all, if there’s anything we as a congregation can do to free up some of your time to pursue health for yourself, please let us know. I want to be your ally in this if you want one. Second, I would really appreciate it if you might plan some sermons around the connection between body and spirit. It’s a topic of interest to me and I would love to hear your take on it.”
McCutchan is totally misguided about the appropriate way to raise the issue of health in the congregation — one doesn’t institute a program of exercise and weight loss under the guise of general church leadership, and especially not for such transparently manipulative reasons as to encourage the pastor to lose weight. Reading his suggestions as a female pastor, I found them to be not only inappropriate, controlling and dishonest but also paternalistic.
But McCutchan generally has the right idea: we should be integrated beings who take care of ourselves body and soul. The pastor can set an example and it is sad that so many of us set a poor example for self-care. I think it is high time that the Church as a whole started to break the silence around pastoral health. They just shouldn’t do it in the manipulative and distorted manner that McCutchan outlines. If congregations want to encourage their pastors to take good care of themselves, they will grant them the freedom to get out out of the church building, spend some time every day in healthy and life-giving activity. They will check in with their minister to inquire if he or she is taking a regular day off, and generally cheerleading for their pastor’s ability to lead a balanced and healthy lifestyle.
I belong to the same health club as many of my parishioners and I have never, ever been given the side-eye when any of them spot me on the elliptical machine. In fact, I get a thumbs up. I know many clergy who feel like they have to sneak around to their health clubs lest they be seen by their flock. Hello? No parishoner in my church has expressed resentment when I take a vacation (if they have, I haven’t heard about it, and that’s part of protecting the pastor’s health, too — shielding them from undue nastiness), and no one has ever raised an eyebrow if they see me at Whole Foods buying the more expensive, organic produce. My community knows that I struggle with my weight. I have spoken freely about it both in community and very occasionally from the pulpit (not in any depth, as I loathe that sort of “chick sermon” — I once heard a woman preach about her diet and I almost stormed out of the church).
But health is not just about how fat or slim one is. I have been in much more danger of dying of loneliness, isolation and depression at times in my ministry than I have ever been from high blood pressure or clogged arteries. When I lived in Maryland and went for several years without being touched or noticed outside of my church community, that was far more damaging to my ability to function with energy and vigor on behalf of the Church than being fat could ever be. When I served a congregation in Pennsylvania right out of seminary and regularly spent 12-hours a day addressing the needs of the church, I worked out 4-5 times a week. Sure, I was in okay physical health but I was torn up inside by church conflict, achingly lonely, and worried every day about paying my bills. The anxiety, misery and fear I lived with did much more to deterioriate my health than carrying extra pounds.
Today, I am fat, feisty, active, energized, well-loved, regularly snuggled, a great cook, surrounded by friends and the same weight on the scale I was 12 years ago. However, I feel a good decade younger than I did back then. I sleep better, I love life, my spiritual practice is deep and sustaining, I look forward to every day, I laugh a lot and I am grateful for every new morning. My digestion is better, my mental health is stable and has been for years, I have some creaks and take some pills every day, but I have more passion, drive and joy in the ministry than I ever imagined was possible during those first painful years.
That’s what serving a healthy congregation can do for a pastor. Working with supportive, smart, committed church leaders and an interesting, appreciative, generous and celebration-oriented congregation is the best health benefit any pastor could receive. You heard it here.
If Stephen McCutchan and other caring religious people want to help their pastors be as healthy as they can possibly be, they should not add weight loss or getting in shape or “getting healthy” to the already-endless list of items on the pastor’s to-do list, and especially not to institute such a program by deceitful means. Rather, they should strive to create a congregational environment that cultivates joy, energy, gratitude, forgiveness, and healthy expectations between parish and pastor.
Oh, and P.S.? Your pastor is well aware of his or her weight gain and sure as heck doesn’t need you to guide him or her to awareness. We have these things called pants. When they don’t button we’re mostly pretty clear that our butts and guts are getting bigger.
PB, this is why you are awesome.
What you suggest emphasizes actual health and what he suggests what the world often calls health (but really means a certain number, when there is health at every size).
What a sensible, kind, useful post! Thanks, Peacebang!
You articulated beautifully why I felt just a little sick reading his article. Manipulative and dishonest. Yup. Thanks for a much better suggestion: just tell the truth, face to face.
I’m sort of hoping that his pastor’s getting extra chubby because he’s in love and he and his lover are having these great big bowls of pasta together after fabulous sex. But that’s just me projecting. Or his pastor’s looking fat because she’s actually pregnant but hasn’t announced it yet, and HA HA if that’s the case.
When I was a very young pastor I got an anonymous note telling me that I had gained weight and offering to help me lose in (in Christian love). I was absolutely devestated. After carrying the wound with me for years and trying to figure out who had sent it I realized that it was a mass mailing and advertisement, but I will always remember how painful that was. I knew I was overweight, I had been since I was 10 — the thought that someone would approach me like that was absolutely a violation, and to this day I’m even angrier that some flogger of diet pills or drinks would so that to anyone.
I would love to read a whole blog on the subject of “chick sermons”. It too is a pet peeve of mine – at the moment bugging me are clergy women who can’t seem to preach or teach or write without mentioning their kids and/or using their children as an example of something they learned about faith. Every single time they open their mouths (pens). [Why don’t you start one? I’d read it! I find that tendency just so off-putting. Want to write a guest column for this blog about it? – PB]
A long time ago there was a fairly mordant little book called “How to Become a Bishop without Being Religious”… it was funnier before I was ordained, somehow. But I remember the author remarked that congregants would often subtly or not-so encourage their clergy to over-eat and get fat, because that was the indulgence of an appetite that didn’t frighten them as much as the others,,,,, comments? [VERY insightful. I think there’s a lot of wisdom in that. Wow. I’m going to be thinking about that for awhile. – PB]
Funny how these ” but we’re so worried about your *health* screeds practically always seem to come from dudely individuals. How often would such folks worry about the “health” of a pastor who subsisted on coffee and cigarettes, but who was thin? Not a heckuva lot, I reckon.
I am thin and I have had a number of comments about my weight. I was a part of my same congregation through my pregnancies, so these people have seen my body change over time. I lost a bit when I transitioned into my pastoral roll (I had a two year old at home, which is a pretty natural time to lose weight.)
Most people who comment on my weight do so with a congratulatory tone, but a few have made more weighty remarks, either warning me not to get “too thin” or showing concern about me in general.
Don’t know what to make of it, but it happens.
Amen. Thank you for this, PeaceBang. As a newly minted pastor doing my best to pay close attention to work-life-health balance, I appreciate these words.
Wouldn’t it be funny, the next time someone congratulates one of us for losing weight, we go, “Oh, thank you for noticing. I have an intestinal parasite that’s making my life a living hell.” Or, “Thank you! I had NO IDEA rigorous sexual activity burned so many calories!”
I’m in favor of subverting unexamined moral judgment whenever possible, especially around food and body size.
I got cured from commenting on weight after I saw a woman who had been a cabinet minister in the government of Pierre Trudeau. She had been a big woman and feisty and smart and capable which in the end he couldn’t deal with. She went back to her law practice. At some event a few years later she appeared thin and gorgeous in a grey silk dress and was just bombarded by those present (it was a public event not a gathering of friends) with comments on how lovely she looked and how wonderful it was she had lost weight. Not very long after she died of cancer. How must she have felt that night? One can only imagine.
[Yes. This. – PB]
My eyes got wider and my moans of pain louder as I progressed through his horrific, imagined “intervention”. It actually called to mind a CLF Quest essay (Oct 2011) that I heard read at a ministers’ retreat this week. It was written by a young, black man who had to stand in a circle of praying church people who were trying to exorcise his homosexuality. He found goodness and sanity in another circle of church people, thank God, and you help create that kind of circle here. Thanks Peebs. [You’re welcome, Gidge. xxoo – PB]
This blog post you reference so awful and passive aggressive. Thanks for highlighting it.
Working at the hospital for several years now I watch the residents gain weight over the years. The nurses and other staff too. I can’t feel anything but overwhelming compassion: long hours, stress, lack of sleep. Clergy are in the same condition, and I’m not even thinking of the other reasons people gain and lose weight, many of which are positive (babies, romance).
As a person who has lost 70 lbs and has about 30 to go, I have lived through how people treat you differently at each stage. The evidence suggests that women, particularly as they age, are healthier a bit heavier. What has been interesting to me, despite any real health benefits, is that male attention and cultural norms of attractiveness start at a BMI of about 24. I don’t think it has much to do with health at all, up to a certain point. I do know many smart women for whom staying at a low BMI is like a job, and one that keeps them from doing much else that is good in the world, and it’s all just very sad.
Deb, I would LOVE and support you if you wrote about it and I am a clergy woman with a child. I find it pastorally insensitive to talk about my child and I don’t think it creates a healthy boundary for your child and the church. My colleagues that use their kids all the time are the same folks that 10 year later wonder why the church “is picking on and critiquing my kids” and I want to say “well, you opened the door by making them a public subject all. the. time.” [Very interesting!! You two need to guest column. – PB]
And I would add to the weight conversation an additional perspective that I have had colleagues host “biggest loser” events at their church making their weight loss the center of congregational programming. I shutter at the thought. But it must be a confusing message for congregants to receive. On the one hand we find our bodies and our weight a private matter and on the other hand there are clergy that would do an evangelism program around losing weight for every new member joined (true story). Mixed signals for sure.