The Priest and Persona: The Myth of Perfection

The Priest and Persona

Rian Adams Priest
 

One of the most damaging things about Christian ministry is the mask!

I am a priest and with that comes a sincere desire to help other priests navigate the ministerial journey. My vocation also brings a genuine desire to help others grow spiritually. At present, I’m in the final stages of my first doctorate. I’m writing a dissertation, and hopefully, a book informed by it. This article comes from that research. I hope it highlights some of my findings and those findings can be helpful to clergy and spiritual people in general.

One thing Christians do that is often damaging is hand their priest or minister a mask and say, “Here, we expect you to wear this.” They do not mean ill. They usually wish their pastor no harm. Yet many still have an unconscious persona that they expect the priest to wear. What the unconscious parishioner unknowingly says is, “This is what I expect you to look like, this is how I expect you to preach, and this is how I expect your family to act.” Of course, this applies to nearly any service-oriented role, but I think it causes ministers a particular hardship.

I have heard most people explain the mask as a “higher standard” to which they hold the priest. The congregants often expect the minister to met the projection and accept the mask without resistance. Failure to wear it often leads to what Jung would call projection of the personal shadow and thus judgment. What he means is if the priest does not wear the mask, the congregants will project their own guilt, shame, and personal issues on to the clergy. In other words, what we resist in others usually tells us a lot about ourselves.

Jungian Archetypes at work in faith communities.

Jung pioneered the work on archetypal psychology. I think it can be particularly helpful for modern spirituality. I’ll never forget an encounter I had with an archetypal persona of the priesthood. The year was 2010, and I was deployed to Afghanistan. I was, upon my entry into the military, the youngest chaplain on active duty. There wasn’t much I could do about that.

My battalion executive officer embarrassed me in front of a crowd of other officers. He said, “I don’t have much faith in you. Chaplains are supposed to be old, like your grandfather, who can offer advice. You’re too young for that.” It was hurtful, but I tried to play it off as just fun banter and save face in front of my colleagues.

Enter Jung’s archetype of the Wise Old Man.

The Wise Old Man serves as a spiritual guide and a giver of knowledge. The Wise Old Man can be a mask that we personally wear or one we expect of others in religious roles. We see the Wise Old Man often in the journeys of heroes in mythology and stories. He is there to accompany, serve, and offer wise advice. He never fails to be the bigger person and do the “right” thing.

What my old executive officer did not know, and what many Christians are unaware of, is they project this persona from their clergy. When we, as flawed humans, fail to meet the “higher standard” of the projection, we become the opposite of wise. We then receive the stigma of immature and uninitiated.

The problem with the priestly mask is that it leaves no room for the ambiguity of life. It is constraining, and it ignores the three-dimensional complexities that make us humans.

The Star Wars Archetype.

In my spiritual tradition, a new priest is “installed” into a church with a ritualistic ceremony. I vividly recall one of my installation ceremonies where the priest who preached the sermon directly confronted the persona in the congregation. He said,  “Your measure as a parish will not be if you love Rian when he pleases you. Your measure as a parish will hinge on how you treat Rian when he disappoints you.”

I’ll take some liberty and paraphrase that priest. To put a pop culture spin on it, he said, “What you really want is Obi-Wan Kenobi. There are times when your priest can be that for you, but he is not, nor can he ever be reduced to the one-dimensional role of simple spiritual guide.”

He was right, Obi-Wan was an excellent guide for Luke in Star Wars. However, how would we feel if Obi-Wan disappointed us? Said another way, Obi-Wan could only be Obi-Wan to Luke because he failed his father, Anakin in the first place. Part of the growth process is learning to see others in three dimensions.

The real problem is when the priest, or any other person, becomes so identified with the mask that they can’t tell where the mask ends, and they begin.

A friend, a priest, came to my office sobbing. He walked in, sat down, and by his tears I could tell he was in a crisis. I stood up from the chair behind my desk and sat on the couch opposite him. Through his sobs, I heard him say, “I need to do confession with you. I need to confess that I am a failure.”

I was surprised because my friend was the definition of “non-anxious presence.” He was always calm, and he seemed to be in control of his emotions. So I asked him, “What’s wrong?” All he could say was, “I’m a failure and a fraud.”

I pressed the issue and said, “I’ll do confession with you, but you’re going to talk to me first.” He experienced what he termed a “moral failure.” (That term is quite elusive because it begs the question of who creates the moral in the first place? And why did your deity force you to agree to it? Anyway, that’s another post for another time…)

As my friend cried, I realized the problem.

He was so immeshed with the priestly persona that he was utterly undifferentiated from it. The mask consumed him.

He worked so hard to become Obi-Wan and when he failed he fell into existential crisis. His priestly persona only gave him room for a one-dimensional life.

After confession, I told him, “Brother, you are not defined by one small problem. You are not perfect; you will never be perfect. Now, forgive the god you thought you worshiped who judged you harshly and forgive that god’s people for forcing you into this mask. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.”

Any spirituality that does not begin with mercy is not spirituality at all. A spirituality that begins and ends with “accountability” is just another telling of the mythology of The Man in the Iron Mask.

It’s important to note, the mask is not merely one archetypal persona.

It can be many. I’ve worn so many masks at times that I had no clue who I was beneath them all. The most attractive ones for clergy are The caregiver, the wounded child who seeks to please the father figure, the sage (previously discussed), the magician, and the hero.

This is not merely a spiritual approach to the ministry, but it also connects to all aspects of life, including relationships as well. I’ve watched spouses struggle because of a projected mask on their husband/wife, who is the pastor. I’ve sat with people in counseling sessions who never could please another person because the person held them to a one-dimensional ideal or forced them into a simplistic role.

The solution is to embrace a spirituality of compassion!

When we embrace compassion as a worldview, we allow others to be who they are. When we accept someone for who they are, flaws, complexities, and all, we can greet the real person with compassion.  It takes awareness, mindfulness, and a lot of mercy to offer others the freedom to be themselves. If we are willing to accept that journey, then our souls can find independence and liberation.

I hint at this in my poem “Destiny.” Give it a read and tell me what you think.

The true self is not merely the “me.” It is the “me” that is permeated by the divine. We do not have to be afraid of our complex parts or the complexities in others, especially our priests and ministers. A compassionate spiritual approach encourages us to welcome all parts of the self but not to be defined by them. Jung saw conflicting feelings and experiences in the human psyche as a necessity for growth. When we engage the personas we place on ourselves and others; we allow the internal conflict to mold us into compassionate and loving people. And that is the goal of the spiritual life.

Compassion and mercy are the transformation agents to loving rightly and growing spiritually.

Peace, R+

Posted by Rian Adams

Poem: Young Spirituality

Young Spirituality

I love old things, especially old typewriters because they seem to have a certain “soul” that my Mac’s keyboard does not hold. I type a lot of my poetry on my typewriter from the early 1960s. This poem, young spirituality, is one of those.

This poem came to me in an instant while driving in Asheville North Carolina. I noticed a group of people holding signs and screaming with a megaphone on the evils of abortion and “liberalism.” Half a mile down the street was another group, this time marching in front of a government building under signs that spoke of the evils of government and the need for democratic socialism. Imagine this, both groups used bible verses on their signs to make their point.

That’s when it hit me; fundamentalism is the same disease no matter what side of the American congressional aisle we choose to fall.

One of my favorite quotes by Carl Jung is, “What we repress in the self comes out in the world as an event.” I think that’s true of religious fundamentalism. So often the soul simply fights and resists itself and takes it out on the world around it.

This is clear to me in all brands of religious fundamentalism. Christians (and many other religions too) have projected their personal issues on bible verses and use those verses to prop up their own fundamentalism.

To me the truth is simple, my grand idea is this: God loves us, we’re supposed to love ourselves and others. Those are the simple rules.

Those who have a constant need to resist something are often resisting themselves under the guise of spirituality. 

Speak up, take a stand, help the downtrodden and those in need of dignity, but leave the results to God while you work out your own salvation too.

Rian Adams Poetry
Poem Young Spirituality

“Shield: Carrying the Weight of God” a sermon by Rian Adams

Rian Adams Sermon Shield: The Weight of God

Rian Adams Sermon “Shield: Carrying the Weight of God.” Second Sunday of Lent, Year C

A shield normally has one  job… the difference between life and death can be how well a shield does that job. A shield’s job is to protect. In the Genesis passage God identifies as a shield – protector – to Abram… Gen 15:1 “Abram, I am your shield.”

It’s clear from the beginning of the story, God desires a relationship with Abram where God protects and guards him.There are many layers in God’s announcement, “I am your shield.” In the original Hebrew, shield (Mah-gane) is usually in masculine form. It means “to protect.” It’s a picture of God’s mighty arm holding a heavy shield that prevents arrows from nicking our vulnerable places.

But interestingly, it has a feminine use too, “to gather under” is one possible translation. God gather’s us under wings of protection. Another, far more enlightening feminine use, is “the thick hide of a female crocodile.” I wonder… can that expand our understanding of shield to include something we wear and not simply something we hold. It’s a powerful image of mother God shielding us with her thick skin. The blows reach her skin, they pummel her, she feels the pain, but it doesn’t breach her.

“Abram, I am your shield.”

When arrows try to puncture our soft hearts, her skin is the shield that absorbs the spear.

The shield imagery doesn’t stop there.

If you google “shield” the first shield you find, in search and images, is the shield of Captain America. I find it interesting to note: The most popular shield on the internet belongs to a super hero.

That hero is the archetypal warrior who is the pillar of justice, good, and morality. Our culture instantly equates a shield with a hero. It’s telling that our association with shield is one made from the strongest metal on earth. If you’re a comic geek you’re probably aware that Captain America’s shield was created by accident.

The shield’s creator worked with mythic Wakandan Vibranium. But the shield’s creation is not without misunderstanding… The metallurgist worked long hours and fell asleep before the final metal blend was complete. He took no notes, so the shield’s contents are a mystery.

The image creatively suggests that the God who shields us will always remain a mystery. We will never fully figure out how, or why, or even when God shields us.

The writer of Ephesians says to take up the shield of faith… There is some kind of mystery to God that we will never fully understand and we must simply hold sacred space for faith.

God protects us in ways that are mysterious. My guess is we can point to pivotal moments in our lives when God shielded us from injury, deceit, or distress.  We probably didn’t noticed it then but hindsight, combined with spirituality, helps us see the mystery of God at work in many things.

However, as with any metaphor, it always offers a holy invitation to listen for deeper meanings.

As the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung says, we learn to listen by “cultivating the creative art of inner conversation.

That imaginative conversation reminded me that a shield is weighty.

While I served as a soldier in Afghanistan, my body armor, my shield as it were, was roughly 75lbs of gear. I carried these body shields on my chest and back. Each day I shouldered the weight of my vest, attached the Velcro, buttoned the snaps, and prayed that I wouldn’t need it.

I wore these shields for months on end. What stands out to me is how quickly my body normalized the weight. The armor merged and became one with my body. I wore it like it was a second layer of skin. One post-deployment struggle was feeling naked without body armor. My body familiarized the weight of its shield and it found comfort knowing it was there should it ever be called upon.

But it was not without its difficulties.First, it was heavy. My shoulders are still tense from the weight because it was a constant burden. To this day I get 5 CCs of steroid in my right shoulder every 120 days. The pain is so that I welcome the cold steel of an 18 gauge needle as an old friend who visits for dinner and tells good stories.

Second, the sand in the deserts of the Middle East and South West Asia work their way between the collar bone and the shoulder strap.  Hour after hour it rubs and grinds. You treat it with cream and band aids, it doesn’t do much. Every day I was reminded that my body shield was a double edged sword.

The body that it protected was the same body that it injured.  

New medical studies say the same. According to the Department of Veterans Affairs, the number of military personnel who retired with musculoskeletal damage increased 1000% between 2001 and 2010. Military physicians now make the direct connection between the weight of body armor and chronic injuries.

It appears that carrying the weight of body armor for prolonged periods inflicts a harsh toll on the body. That leads me to a curiosity… I wonder what the weight of a shield teaches us about God?

I wonder if people feel like God is a heavy weight to shoulder? “Abram I am your shield… to carry.”

The weight of faith, in a world filled to the brim with governmental tyranny and human suffering, must be a reality we are willing to own.   If God is like a shield then we need the spiritual freedom to admit when our arms tire. Although it’s scary to admit we need help, its essencential to grow into our vocations.

 Even Jesus tired under the weight of his calling, the Gospels tell us another helped him carry his cross.

The psalmist understood the tension of God as shield.

In Psalm 33 he balances the protection of God with the need to patiently wait. He says, “We wait in hope for the Lord, He is our shield and our help.”

 Maybe C.S. Lewis was on to something when he said that God’s glory is a weight to carry.  I have friends who wear the weight of God. They shoulder the difficult joy of Christ’s ministry of mercy. But they grow tired carrying the God who protects them.

That’s why Jesus calls us to be a shield to our sisters and brothers! Jesus said,“Blessed are the merciful for they shall be shown mercy.”

In the original language, mercy literally means a surrounding of compassion. Jesus asks us to be like God… and shield one another with mercy.So when I buckle under the weight of church imposed perfection, love me like a soldier and pull me out of harm’s way. When I’m exhausted, hold up my hands like Aaron and Joshua did for Moses, and when I’m attacked, be Paul’s shield and quench fiery gossip.

Be my shield. Have mercy on me, surround me, as I attempt to wear the wdeight of the God who protects me.

Amen.

Note: This sermon was prepared and preached at Sewanee as part of a doctoral program
Note: If you’d like to check out my other writings, you can find them here