Obliviously

This is the sixth post in a series about ways that I have missed the mark as a pastor. It is a response to several articles about why young adults are leaving the church. You can begin here if you want some background to this current article.

For being oblivious to the deeper concerns of your life that peek out at the edges of our conversations, I am sorry.

This one is on  me. Personally.

I’m just not very good at listening to what is buried in our conversations.

I know pastors who can scan their congregation during worship and identify the people who are struggling with something in life. They can, with just a word or a look as they shake hands, determine that something is amiss and they are sure to give a call or drop a note to invite that person to open up. And it isn’t just a gift that some pastors seem to have. I’m sure you know someone who just seems to be able to tell when you are down and they have this way of making you feel better in the midst of your suffering.

But it’s not me.

Oblivious is the right word here. I am usually so wrapped up in my own head that I can’t even tell you how I’m feeling, let alone be aware of what the people around me are feeling. No matter how hard I try (and believe me, I do) I can’t seem to get the hang of it. I don’t believe it’s a matter selfishness either. I believe that it’s a spiritual gift; one that I don’t have.

That doesn’t mean that I have an excuse to be unsympathetic. It just means that people need to spell things out in order for me to catch on. And a lot of times they can’t because they don’t know what’s bothering them. But other times it gets buried in our conversations because it’s hard to open up and let one’s self be vulnerable.

It sometimes amazes me that I still have a job when I think about the number of times someone thought they had opened up to me in a vulnerable way and I just missed it. Then my obliviousness is interpreted as uncaring or even contempt. By the time it finally gets back to me, and someone explains what I was supposed to see in the first place I have a lot of apologizing to do. And sometimes, unfortunately, it is not enough.

I wish I could blame this one on our shifting culture, or on the fact that I am busy making sure other aspects of my job are complete. But I can’t. This is just one that I’m not good at and I’m sorry. Just please don't stop trying.

And speaking of being vulnerable: Here are a couple of talks by professor and researcher Brene Brown on the subject. They are well worth the time to watch. Both videos are about 21 minutes apiece. I hope you enjoy them.