Criticism in ministry seems to come in waves, at least in my experience. We seem to enjoy sweet seasons of an encouraging and upbeat atmosphere in our church body, and then – wham! You find out in a week or two that people aren’t quite as pleased with you as you had been thinking. I think no matter how many years my husband and I are in ministry, criticism will never cease to be hard. My gut will always twist into a knot, I’ll always not know what to say in the moment, and at some point there will probably be some tears. And as much as I’ll never be a huge fan of being criticized (or much worse – my husband and kids being criticized), I know Proverbs speaks truth about the wounds of a faithful friend (Proverbs 27:6), even though my emotions say otherwise. Criticism can be dangerous; it can turn us into people-pleasers instead of God-pleasers. But there is another danger – and that is no criticism at all. A real understanding of truth-speaking from the Bible will have you praying, “God, deliver us from being surrounded only by ‘yes’ men.” The last couple of weeks has given me another chance to hone my skills in accepting criticism with grace. Here are a couple of things God has brought to my attention afresh:
Jesus is the only perfect Shepherd. Five years ago my husband and I stepped into a wonderful church. We knew it wasn’t perfect, but we knew how precious the people were and the faithful hard work of the past shepherds, and we spent the next couple of years telling ourselves, “oh my goodness – don’t mess this up.” The only problem was – we were bound to mess something up sooner or later. If that wasn’t true then we aren’t fallen sinners, and we know that isn’t up for discussion. There can be great relief in admitting that you’re not the perfect shepherd or leader or parent or example. Criticism loses its sting when you can say, “yes, I have room for growth, more than you even know.” You may disagree with your critic on what most needs to change, but if you can adapt the posture of humility it’s actually quite freeing. Criticism won’t deflate you, anymore than praise will inflate you. You are going to get things wrong and mess things up. The people who point those things out to you aren’t your enemies, and the perfect righteousness that Jesus gave you on the cross frees you up to accept criticism without defensiveness and anger.
Jesus is your refuge. When people find fault with us my first knee-jerk reaction is to hide. I don’t want to go to church, let alone have people into my home (why give ammunition for people to use?) If the criticism is directed at me, I prefer to never be more than a few yards away from my husband because I’ve learned some people are much more willing to take shots at the pastor’s wife than the pastor. This phenomenon is a bit of a mystery to me, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I have influence but not authority, so they feel like they can vent and be “heard” without actually having to take their complaints to the elders – a much more intimidating prospect. Besides the times of criticism itself, there is the painful awkwardness of leaning back into relationships when shots have been fired. There again, my biggest instinct is to hide. God has to remind me again that Jesus is my refuge – not my husband, and not the four walls of my home – safe though I may feel with both. Even if the things I’m dreading do happen, my God is big enough to give me the strength and grace I need, to give me calm in my heart in the heat of the moment. Sometimes stepping into the foyer of your church is an act of bold and brave faith! But your refuge travels with you. Isn’t that good news?
Jesus is using criticism for your growth. I think we all know that being confronted about sin in our lives is important. The harder sell is that the random issues that people choose to harp on are just as much for our spiritual growth. When we’ve evaluated our critic’s words to see if they have merit, and come to find out that they are completely off base, that criticism is still for our growth. Sometimes the things people feel so burdened to confront me on are so random to me. It’s their pet issue and has nothing to do with what is really going on with me spiritually. I listen to them and think, “surely there are about a hundred things in my life that need dealing with before this.” And yet even this kind of criticism has value. David didn’t do anything to deserve Saul flinging spears at him. We tend to think David became David despite Saul. But maybe David became David because of Saul. Unjust criticism or attack tests our hearts and characters in powerful ways. How will we love the person who thinks we are scum? Can we really forgive as we have been forgiven? Are we really willing to walk the long road with people even when it’s awkward and inconvenient or even downright painful or dangerous? Looking into the eyes of the person who has weighed me or my loved ones on the scales and found us sadly wanting always hurts. But this is the moment when the rubber meets the road. Really, what do I believe about scandalous grace? For me and my accuser? What do I really believe about the power of the Gospel in broken lives? How sufficient is the blood of Jesus for binding together the hearts of hurting brothers and sisters? I want to say that the Gospel can tear down any wall, but am I ready to tear down my walls? Right here and right now?
At the end of the day, criticism, even handled rightly, is exhausting. Perhaps the best option in the heat of criticism is found is Psalm 62:5, “For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.”
Ultimately you live before an Audience Of One. Sit before Him in silence. He will correct and encourage and give you the perspective you need. And always on the other side of that is hope – for your flaws, your relationships, and your peace. That Audience Of One knows your heart and is for you – your sanctification and your joy.
Thank you, Sarah, for this candid and Christ-centered look at this issue. I will be taking these very practical suggestions to heart. 🙂