Editor’s Note:  Sometimes we criticize ourselves.  At times others criticize us.  Criticism is a fact of the pastorate.  We can over respond or under respond—both are problematic and unhealthy long-term approaches. With his transparent style, Craig Groeschel’s message here is a helpful reflection for handling criticism from ourselves and others.  For a more thorough treatment of the topic of handling criticism and what he calls “open season on pastors,” consider getting his book Confessions of a Pastor: Adventures in Dropping the Pose and Getting Real with God.  You might also like to visit the website for his dynamic church at LifeChurch.tv.

I Feel Completely Inadequate
by Craig Groeschel

I feel completely inadequate to be a pastor. Maybe you can relate.

As pastors, many of us expend great effort covering our insecurities. I do. It may look like I have it together. Leading a growing church, I must possess talent, creativity, and spiritual energy, right? People sometimes compliment my leadership, my wisdom, and my preaching. They don’t know I combat feeling that failure’s just one bad decision away… constantly.

I’ve always battled insecurity, especially as a pastor. My first funeral: disaster. The granddaughter of the deceased wanted everyone to sing “Amazing Grace.” Now, I can’t carry a tune. Nevertheless, before the grieving family and friends, I began this grand hymn. Unfortunately, everyone—including the granddaughter—left me hanging, singing alone. People glanced around awkwardly. Why would someone who sings so badly attempt a solo?

So then a fly zips into my mouth. It’s true. So do I… cough out the fly as discretely as possible? Swallow it? Gulp! I ingested. (And finished the song.)

Things couldn’t get worse. A short prayer took us into the home stretch, ready to wrap up. Intoning “pastor voice,” I began, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” My mind emptied. Reasoning, These people are sad, maybe something witty will comfort them, I tried, “Hope this coffin doesn’t rust.”

That… went… badly.

Did I mention I feel completely inadequate?

Why do I feel this way? First, I don’t feel I know enough. I wasn’t a Christian until college. I had never read the Bible. In a college Bible study once, I mentioned I’d been reading Job (pronouncing it jawb, not jobe.) Humiliating.

Didn’t you learn anything in seminary, Craig? Well, I graduated, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was bored, uninterested, just jumping through hoops for the degree.

I also don’t feel I’m good enough. Respectable pastors are righteous. No bad words, bad thoughts, anger, jealousy—just faith, peace, Christlikeness. The pastors I admire have everything together. They’re eloquent, proper, and spiritually mature.

Then there’s me.

I’ll ashamedly admit I’ve used a bad word. Not just any bad word—a really, really, really bad one. Our basement flooded, and three feet of rising water threatened our valuables. Frantically, I grabbed my sump pump cord and waded in. Hanging from the rafter above was an extension cord. You see where this is going. Waist-deep water degrades your sanity. I’ll plug this in REALLY FAST.

Idiot.

Becoming one with the circuit, a word formed mentally… and rapidly escaped. My whole person participated. Pastors never say that word. How could God’s love—and such filth—flow from the same mouth?

I’ve also made too many mistakes. The things I don’t want to do, I do. Jealous, proud, doubtful, critical, gossipy, competitive…and more. My shortcomings reaffirm: I’m not good enough for God to use. I forget God’s grace and power can forgive every mistake, correct every flaw. Of course I’m in good company. Consider Jesus’ disciples.

Whom did Jesus not pick? Not one Pharisee, not one Sadducee—the religious elite. Nor did He select the best looking, the most talented, the best educated, the most likely to succeed. Jesus chose twelve ordinary, sinful, insecure people—just like us.

Jesus’ friends were partiers, cheaters, and liars, despised by religion. Jesus even hung around prostitutes. He surrounded Himself with the lowest, the poorest, the outcasts. That’s encouraging.

Inept for God’s Glory

I love Moses. God called him to deliver the Israelites from Egypt. He excused himself sincerely, “Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue” (Exodus 4:10). I feel like that sometimes. Do you?

Erwin McManus writes brilliantly. Rob Bell? Genius. Mark Driscoll’s so deep. Ed Young’s creativity is boundless. Rick Warren is purposeful, deliberate. Andy Stanley can speak for hours, and time stops for his audience. I’m not them. Perhaps like me, you feel your résumé defines failure.

God addressed Moses’ insecurities head-on: “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now go; I will help you speak and teach you what to say” (vv. 11–12).

Is your ministry facing insurmountable challenges? Who’s bigger, God or your committees? Who’s your provider, God or the bank? Who gives wisdom? Who speaks to you? Who seeks lost people? Who wants to bless your church? Is your back against the wall? God is for you.

Idiots for Christ

How can we address our feelings of deep inadequacy? My pastor offered three suggestions.

First, don’t believe everything your fans say about you. Some believe their pastor can do no wrong. Sure, they love you, but they can’t help you improve. They may even tempt you in the wrong direction. “Don’t believe your positive press,” my pastor cautioned. “You’re not that good.”

Second, don’t believe your critics. My pastor promised, “The more you accomplish, the more you’ll attract harsh criticism.” Wisdom involves contemplating constructive criticism, but focusing exclusively on negative press eventually makes you defensive. You will face critics. Don’t focus on them.

Finally, only God’s opinion matters. What does He say about you? (He believes in you.)

Acts 4:13 really speaks to me. Incarcerated, Peter and John were interrogated about preaching Christ. Luke wrote: “When they saw the courage of Peter and John and realized that they were unschooled, ordinary men, they were astonished and they took note that these men had been with Jesus” (emphasis mine).

“Ordinary” is the Greek word idiotes. Meaning “unskilled,” it’s where we get “idiot.” Peter and John were normal guys, like me—idiots! They were also unschooled. Did they battle fears of not knowing enough? Speaking before crowds probably intimidated them. Except…

They had been with Jesus. Making them extraordinary.

Other people’s opinions about you don’t matter. Stop replaying those negative mental recordings of things church members have said. Don’t listen exclusively to your fans or to your critics.

Spend time with Jesus.

Adapted from Confessions of a Pastor © 2006 by Craig Groeschel.  Used by permission of Multnomah Publishers, Inc.  Excerpt may not be reproduced without the prior written consent of Multnomah Publishers, Inc.