Suffering in Silence
I was alone. It’s ironic to think about, since, as a pastor, my life is about people. Yet in my first few years of ministry, I suffered, feeling completely alone. It wasn’t that I didn’t expect to suffer. Being on the front lines of spiritual warfare will bring with it battle wounds. There will be opposition until Christ returns. I understood this, and I accepted that some form of suffering comes with ministry.
What took me by surprise, however, was a unique form of suffering I didn’t expect, though now I realize is actually rather common to Christian ministry: silent suffering. Nothing can quite prepare a person for the transition from life in the pew to life behind the pulpit. Certain realities that can be quite shocking.
Experiences such as adjusting to life in the public eye, facing the idea that pastors are “supposed” to be spiritual, or not realizing how much weight some off-handed comment I made carried with someone, brought upon me a form of loneliness and suffering that I was not expecting to face. It does for many other pastors as well. What is it, then, about the nature of the pastor’s calling that makes him uniquely vulnerable to this type of suffering?
A Unique Suffering for a Unique Calling
Simply put, there is a uniqueness to the pastor’s vocation. The paradox of pastoral ministry is that everyone knows the pastor, and yet, in some ways, no one knows him. In one sense, the public nature of the office makes him known by everyone. He preaches, visits, counsels, makes disciples, coordinates church services and activities, officiates weddings and funerals, and does a myriad of things that put him in the public eye.
This highly public work places his life under regular examination. This truth makes sense when considering that the qualifications for an elder primarily regard character (see 2 Tim. 3:1-7; Tit.1:7-9). The life he lives must embody the doctrine he proclaims. Thus, when young Timothy was struggling to build rapport with his congregation, Paul instructed him, above all things, to be an example: “Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12).[1] People notice how a pastor treats his wife, rears his children, or lives in singleness. These observations are just as instructional for his flock as are his sermons. His life and ministry are lived in public.
In another sense, however, no one knows him. Though the local church is meant to be a haven of rest, a pastor’s responsibility as shepherd can discourage him from sharing some of his trials with his flock. Whether through criticism coming from particular people or through personal doubts with which he sometimes wrestles, a pastor will undergo a form of suffering that is mostly unknown to his congregation, maybe even to those closest to him. It’s not that he is hiding something, but the public nature of his office may not give him liberty to disclose himself and may make the enduring of certain trials alone sometimes necessary. Why, then, might this unique form of suffering ever be necessary?
The Cause(s) of Silent Suffering
What many believers do not realize is that a pastor has a greater vantage point from which to view things than do most in his congregation. Usually, several factors are influencing a pastor’s rationale for making decisions, addressing problems, or initiating change. Perhaps certain people will be affected or important ministries in the church could be weakened. He may not be able to explain his reasoning regarding a decision he made because he is protecting the confidentiality of others (though certainly silence isn’t always necessary and hinders effective communication). He is also called to confront sin when necessary. Sometimes, what he preaches may be unpopular. What is more, the pastor may be criticized when things are not going well. People may have unrealistic expectations that he can’t possibly deliver on. Invariably, his integrity and character will be questioned.
Consequently, criticism is not far behind. Sometimes the people who are his greatest supporters in the beginning, will be the greatest opponents later. For the Apostle Paul, it was Alexander the coppersmith who did him great harm (2 Tim. 4:14). At other times, believers in whom we have greatly invested in will abandon the faith, and us with it. Paul also faced this: “For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me” (2 Tim. 4:12). Dealing with such spiritual warfare is a part of pastoral ministry, and it can make a person weary. He may even wrestle with his own faith.
In Psalm 73, Asaph, as he watched the wicked prosper, wondered whether godliness was a waste of time. “They are not in trouble as others are,” he says, “They are not stricken like the rest of mankind” (v. 5). Doubt and unbelief settle. What makes Asaph’s suffering more difficult is that he is unable to express his concerns out of fear that it may cause doubt to arise in others that they are unable to bear. He says, “If I had said, ‘I will speak thus,’ I would have betrayed the generation of your children” (v. 15). Regarding this psalm Alec Motyer writes, “Since Asaph could not share his problem without needlessly upsetting God’s children (15), he had to wrestle alone but found the problem too weighty (16).”[2]
Sometimes Christians are not spiritually mature enough to handle certain matters of the faith, especially concerning the personal struggles of their spiritual leaders. Sheep scatter easily, and pastors must be sensitive to their flock’s spiritual maturity. In turn, we may feel isolated. Like Asaph, we remain silent for the sake of others, not for our own. In such times, we must learn to suffer well.
Suffering in Silence Well
Jesus understood completely what it meant to suffer in silence. He was cursed by those who praised Him, abandoned by those who loved Him, and mocked by those who feared Him. Through all of this, He remained silent: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth” (Isa. 53:7). When Jesus was being tried, Pilate asked Him, “Have you no answer to make?” (Mk. 15:4), yet He gave no reply. Instead, He chose to suffer on the cross. He let His name be tarnished. He surrendered to humiliation. He was innocent, yet did not defend Himself. He remained silent in the most crucial of moments.
Jesus shows us that we do not need to be vindicated in order to minister effectively, nor do we need to defend ourselves when our reputation is being tarnished. What is more, He did not become jaded or cynical towards the Father because of His suffering. Instead, He embraced the Father all the more. He shows us that enduring suffering in silence is often the most appropriate response to unwarranted criticism or attack. Jason Helopoulos writes that though suffering in the Christian faith is countercultural, it is “the call to endure that suffering silently, which is often the mark of good leadership in the church.”[3]
However, we must be careful not to embrace a “loner” mentality. Paul quickly brought Silas along after he parted ways with Barnabas and acquired Timothy shortly thereafter (Acts 15:39-16:5). Good friendships are necessary to help pastors deal with isolation and can bring great comfort through the sharing of ministry burdens. Intentionality is needed in pursuing and maintaining healthy friendships. Still, circumstances may hinder or limit such friendships.
In such times, we must realize that our silent suffering is not wasted; it has redemptive purposes for God’s people. “If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation,” says Paul (2 Cor. 1:6). If Christ suffered on behalf of His bride, so will we. “A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you” (Jn. 15:20). Therefore, God “comforts us in our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those in affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (2 Cor. 1:4). Hence, our suffering is not merely intended to help us empathize with others in their suffering; more importantly, it equips us to point others to the One who sufficiently comforts us when we suffer in silence. Realizing this helps us understand that our suffering in this way is God’s good gift to his flock and is not in vain.
In turn, we can rejoice and worship God. This sustained Asaph and kept him from becoming jaded and cynical in his time of silence. Motyer writes: “Then, it seems, he realized that there is no need to be alone and betook himself to worship (17a)—the sanctuary, the place where the Lord promised to live and where he is always to be found.”[4] In worship we learn to embrace our silence as a place where Christ’s sufficiency is found. Therefore, we can joyfully surrender ourselves to the Father’s plan and trust that the silence of our suffering will speak volumes in eternity.
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About the Author: Jeremy Craft is a pastor and former contributor of the HSF. He recently became the pastor of Piney Grove Free Will Baptist Church in Chipley, Florida, and has been in pastoral ministry since 2013. A native of Columbus, Georgia, he holds a Master of Divinity from Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary and a Bachelor of Science from Welch College. He is waiting with anticipation to marry his fiancé, Lindsay, in June.
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[1] Unless otherwise stated, all Scriptural quotations come from the English Standard Version of the Bible.
[2] J. Alec Motyer, “Psalms,” in New Bible Commentary: 21st Century Edition, ed. D. A. Carson, R. T. France, J. A. Motyer, and G. J. Wenhan, 4th ed. (Downer Groves: Intervarsity Press, 1994), 532.
[3] Jason Helopoulos, The New Pastor’s Handbook: Help and Encouragement for the First Few Years of Ministry (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2015), 114.
[4] Motyer, 531.
March 24, 2018
Excellent job, Jeremy. Good, honest, experiential insights.
March 27, 2018
Thanks, Jeff. It is an important topic that needs to spoken of more often. Though silent suffering is something any Christian can face, it uniquely common among those in vocational ministry. I pray it is an encouragement to people.