Prima Verba – Part 5

Covid.

What comes to mind when you read that word?

Several things, connected yet chaotic, flash through my mind all at once. Come to think of it, that word—chaotic—is an apt description of what that whole season of life felt like to me at that time. Without a doubt, Covid was the first wave of my eventual burnout.

But goodness, where to start?

I suppose I’ll start by acknowledging that Covid affected all of us. That is, I’m not unique. I’m not special. I don’t have an unusually important story to tell about Covid, as though my experience is the key to understanding the full implications of something we all experienced. Certainly not. We all went through it. We all know what it was like. Nevertheless, it is an important key to understanding why I resigned as a pastor, even though that resignation came much later.

There are seven key points I want to make in discussing this first wave. And for this, I’m going to dust off my pastor’s hat, incorporate some alliteration, and make these points using seven ‘D’ words. Ahem…

1. Covid was a Disruption. No kidding, right? Like I said, we all went through this. No part of life was unaffected. Some of these disruptions were mostly inconveniences, like social distancing, toilet paper shortages, and adjusting to remote work. But other of these disruptions were more serious, such as the loss of jobs and businesses, not being able to visit loved ones in the hospital, dealing with closed schools, closed businesses, and closed churches. It was a rough time. Looking back on it now, it’s hard to believe it became what it did. But what it became, and the way I experienced all this as a pastor, began to weigh heavily on me. To understand why, I need to bring in some more ‘D’ words.

2. Covid was accompanied by Distrust. There’s more than one reason for this, of course, but the one I have in mind is specific to where I live—America. Covid showed up during the most contentious presidential election year of my lifetime. Nerves were already on edge, hackles were raised, and battle lines had been drawn. The introduction of Covid into that mix created a perfect storm of suspicion and distrust. I don’t believe anyone was immune to this effect, including myself. As I have said before, no one was at their best—individually or collectively—during Covid. And as this atmosphere of distrust settled upon churches, relationships that were once healthy and whole became strained, and many strained relationships began to unravel. As a pastor, I both witnessed and experienced this in the church.

3. Covid produced a great deal of Disunity. I wrote previously that at the time we returned to our church building after the fire, it felt like we were firing on all cylinders. Covid brought an end to that. Not that everything came apart at the seams. I know of situations that were more discordant than what I experienced. But few and far between were the churches that didn’t experience this in some way, and we certainly did. And it was very difficult as a pastor to watch the former unity of the church dissolve into various forms of disunity, knowing that I was a contributor to it as well.

4. Covid incited Disputes. Of course, this is to be expected where distrust and disunity are already present. But when you’re a pastor, no dispute can arise in the church without you being involved in it, or affected by it, one way or another—even if only tangentially. So, every dispute takes a toll on you because every strain in the church takes something from you. I’ve had jobs where you never take your work home with you. You punch out at the end of the day, go home, and leave it all behind. That’s not what being a pastor is like. You take everything home with you. At least, I did. It’s not quite accurate to say that there was always a fight going on during Covid. But it’s accurate to say that it felt like that to me. And it was exhausting.

5. Covid, as a Disease, took a toll on me. It hit me the first time in September of 2020, along with a bunch of other people at church. We all experienced it a little differently. I never had a fever or any acute respiratory issues, but I did experience an energy drain like nothing I’d ever felt before. It was disconcerting. This passed, thankfully, but what didn’t pass for some time was my loss of smell and taste. Overnight, I lost both senses entirely. There are worse things that could have happened, I admit. But it was the duration of these losses that took a toll on me. My taste was the first to begin to slowly come back. I don’t remember exactly how long it took; I’d guess it was close to a year before I was back to normal. But my smell didn’t begin returning until the spring of 2022. I realize that what I’m describing isn’t a serious condition. But it added a sense of deep desolation to what was already a difficult time. It had never occurred to me how much joy is added to life by the senses of taste and smell. I try not to take any of the senses for granted anymore. The other long-term effect of Covid I experienced was in my throat. I don’t know if I developed a postnasal drip because of having Covid, or if it’s something else, but to this day, I regularly need to clear my throat throughout the day. This need increases if I’m talking a lot. Again, not the most serious condition in the world, but when public speaking is a significant part of what you do for a living, the constant need to clear one’s throat—in sermons, at funerals, at weddings—quickly becomes a burden, as well as a perpetual reminder of that difficult period.

6. Covid was Depressing. I don’t mean this clinically. At least, I don’t think I do. What I mean is that—considering the other ‘D’ words above—Covid hung like a dark cloud over my life for the better part of two years. It took the wind out of my sails. It’s equally true, of course, that I let it do this. The Psalmist asks, “Why are you so downcast, O my soul?” I could have asked myself that question every day. I should have asked myself that question every day and taken it to prayer. Regardless, with each passing month, I felt more and more worn down to the point where, as early as the spring or early summer of 2021, I found myself praying something like this:

God, if you don’t want me to be a pastor anymore, I’m fine with that. In fact, I think I’m ready to be done. And if you show me the off-ramp, I’ll take it.

Was it weakness? Probably. Was it honest? Absolutely. But it was something of a fleece too. You see, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to throw in the towel if it would be an act of disobedience. The way I had become a pastor was all God’s doing, not mine. So, if my time as a pastor was going to come to an end, I wanted that to be his doing as well. I wanted it to be clear—not just to me, but also to Cami. But I wanted to let him know that if that’s where he was leading, I was ready to follow.

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Now, I said earlier that there would be seven ‘D’ words. The last one ran concurrently with the other six and contributed significantly to how difficult Covid was for me. But it was also its own wave—the second wave of my burnout. So, I’ll name it here, but I’ll write about it in my next post.

7. During Covid, there were many Deaths in our church.

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Thank you for your continued interest in my story. This one has left me a bit raw, as I thought it would. I imagine the next few will do so as well. There’s no way around it, though, since I’m writing about the beginning of the end of my time as a pastor.

I recently met another former pastor who went through a rough time during Covid. I won’t say his name, but please pray for him. He’s not in a good place. This is not uncommon, so remember to pray for and check in on the pastors and priests in your life.

May the Lord bless and keep you all.

Gloria in excelsis Deo

Aaron