Mourning in Ministry

How do we deal with all the loss we experience in ministry?

Let’s talk about something that we don’t talk about enough - how we feel in ministry.

Pastors have feelings, too.

I grew up in a time and in a church background where feelings were not really discussed. I resonated with what David McCullough wrote about Truman and World War II:

The idea that Harry Truman made the decision to use the bomb against Japan and then went upstairs and went to sleep is an unfortunate myth for which he is largely accountable. I think he gave that impression because he came from a time and place in America where you were not supposed to talk about your troubles. “How are you?” “I’m fine.” You might be dying of some terrible disease–”I’m fine. And you?” He refused to ever talk about the weight of the decision except to say that he made it and that it was his responsibility.1

I think a lot of us pastors feel like Truman. We think that we’re not supposed to talk about our troubles. “How are you?” “I’m fine.” But we’re not. We’re actually weighed down with loads of unprocessed grief and hurt.

As I’ve reflected on my 28 years of ministry, I've realized I have had to deal with a lot of loss. As a pastor, it’s part of the package. When someone is dying, the family calls you. When it’s time for the funeral, you’re the one at the podium. You’re the one comforting the family. You must remain strong so that they can mourn.

In my current pastorate, I’ve literally buried an entire generation. These are more than church members; they are people that I have grown to love. The loss is real, and the hurt is deep, but my role is to minister. When this continues year after year, for decades, the emotional toll becomes heavy. At some point, all that grief must be dealt with.

In addition to dealing with death all the time, the minister must also deal with the loss of members. Very few pastors will minister for very long before someone they love, trust, and depend on disappears. They stop attending church and no longer return your texts. They “ghost you” as the saying goes today. And then you get word that they are attending another church down the road. You shouldn’t be upset, but you are. In reality, you are hurt. You feel rejection. Maybe betrayal.

While it’s true that we don’t own the sheep, we do grow attached to them. Sometimes it’s not that they “ghosted you,” but it’s simply that God has moved them to another city and job. They leave on good terms, but they still leave. The same holds true with the kids that you invest in who go to college and never return. You’re happy for them and their success, but there is still a feeling of loss.

To compound this further, let’s consider the ministry friends who cycle in and out of our lives. I grew up as an Evangelical Methodist. I eventually became a Baptist. When I did, I had people who turned against me. I remember one in particular who never spoke to me again. To make matters worse, these were people who invested in my life, “loved” me, and encouraged me. But the moment I followed the Lord’s will that led in a different direction, they “ghosted me,” and it hurt.

On top of all this grief and hurt, we must consider the personal disappointments that come in ministry. I doubt a stadium could hold all the pastors who wished their churches had grown significantly larger, but they didn’t. As far as they know, they did everything that they were supposed to, but the crowd remained meager in size.

Eventually, pastors realize that their lot in life will be to tend a small flock. The conference directors will not be calling them to be a headline speaker. There will be no book deals or sitting on the stage in the panel of experts. While we recognize that these desires may not be perfectly “right” or “pure,” they are still unrealized and cause pain and disappointment.

When you add up all of this grief, sorrow, pain, betrayal, and loss, it is a heavy load, indeed.

So, what are we to do?

How do we keep going in ministry when we are loaded down with so much pain?

Well, we do what we would counsel our members to do - we give it to Jesus.

We need to set aside time to process all of these negative emotions.

We need to bring each and every sorrow to the Lord and ask Him to help us and heal us.

1 Peter 5:7 (NKJV) casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you.

Hebrews 4:15–16 (NKJV) 15 For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. 16 Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

I’m not discounting other helps to healing that the Lord has graciously given us, but I do believe that coming to Him is key.

Psalm 34:17–18 (NKJV) 17 The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears, And delivers them out of all their troubles. 18 The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, And saves such as have a contrite spirit.

Psalm 147:3 (NKJV) He heals the brokenhearted And binds up their wounds.

Mourning is a part of ministry, but not the totality of it. We need to come to Him and allow Him to turn our mourning into joy.

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If you are dealing with serious depression or thinking of harming yourself, please seek help immediately. You can reach the confidential pastoral care line from NAMB & Focus on the Family at 1-844-PASTOR1

1 David McCullough, History Matters (New York, NY: Simon and Schuster, 2025), 88