I was dreaming of palm trees, sandy beaches, and snorkeling in the Caribbean when the jangling telephone transported me back to the more sober environment of northern New Jersey. I grabbed the phone and glanced at the clock; it was 4:25 A.M.
The voice of the frantic young man at the other end of the line quivered with desperation: “Pastor, I must see you this morning. I can’t tell you about it over the phone, but believe me, it’s important!”
This was the beginning of a not-so-unusual Monday morning after an exhausting weekend of public ministry.
Counseling is one of the most labor-intensive tasks of pastoral ministry. Four or five sessions can easily represent a full day of ministry for the average pastor. And often the circle of those involved expands: one person’s problem can become my family’s problem, or even the congregation’s problem.
It’s easy, in the midst of a counseling crisis, for pastors to feel as if they are sitting in a small boat paddling against an overpowering current inexorably drawing them to the waterfall called Sunday morning. As we furiously paddle, we think of the sermon we must prepare. It can be an altogether frightening, frazzling, and frustrating experience.
There is, however, a way to slow the current. Here are several tips that help me do just that, ideas I’ve picked up from professional counselors and graduates of the Academy of Formidable Impacts, otherwise known as the School of Hard Knocks.
Set firm limits
I begin by establishing the maximum number of counseling appointments I can handle during a week. A few one-hour sessions easily mushroom into six hours when we consider the follow-up and consultation such work often requires.
So I’ve learned to limit myself to a maximum of four one-hour sessions per week (three scheduled appointments, with one of those hours reserved for emergencies). My secretary places all others requesting counseling on a waiting list (usually I can see them in two or three weeks) or refers them to our counseling center. Attempts to counsel more inevitably cause a decline in both the quality of my counseling and the performance of my other duties.
Most weeks contain at least one emergency that takes up the hour set aside for this. The challenge is to differentiate between the genuine emergency and the spur-of-the-moment drop-in. Because our church is located alongside a four-lane highway, we get our share of both. For instance, a young man recently appeared at our office door and seemed on the verge of an emotional breakdown. This was clearly an emergency. He received my undivided attention for nearly an hour as we secured help for him.
Limiting appointments also means I have to communicate firm limits to counselees. Our secretary tells people the beginning and ending time of their appointments. I am also careful during the session to keep an eye on the clock. I find it is easy to insert into one of my questions or comments the simple statement, “Since we have about ten minutes left in our session . . .”
This policy not only protects my time, it aids the counseling process. It’s amazing how quickly people can “unload” when they are aware they must do so within fifty minutes. Time limits are beneficial to both parties.
I find I must also plan carefully the hours at which I’m available to counsel. My schedule is like my clothes hamper: as the week progresses, the more packed it becomes. And during the latter part of the week, the sermon requires my concentration.
Consequently, the church secretary places all my counseling appointments either on Monday afternoon or Tuesday evenings between 6:45 and 8:30 p.m. That means people may have to rearrange their schedules in order to make an appointment. But I’ve noticed that people routinely do just that in order to benefit from most other professional services. I’ve decided I can ask the same level of flexibility from my counselees.
Recognize the extent of your capabilities
No one would expect paramedics to perform complex brain surgery. They’ve been trained only to treat life-threatening trauma and various other emergencies. Pastoral counselors, like paramedics, have limits. Our training is usually not extensive enough for us to perform long-term or in-depth therapy. Both pastoral counselors and potential counselees must recognize this limitation.
I’ve tried, then, to cultivate relationships with competent and credentialed counselors to whom I can refer people. I have a general rule of maintaining no more than one or two long-term counseling relationships, and I refer to other counselors the clients who seem to need in-depth treatment.
Interestingly, many pastors are reluctant to refer clients to professionals; they feel they’ve somehow failed as pastors if they cannot meet the needs of their congregants. Yet the same pastors wouldn’t hesitate to refer a client with a fractured leg to a local hospital. I’m not bashful to refer a person with a fractured emotional life to a competent professional counselor.
Pastors also are sometimes reluctant to refer clients to a professional counselor who charges. I’ve overcome “fee phobia” by remembering that it is in the best interests of long-term clients to pay for professional services. They tend to work harder, keep more appointments, and show more rapid progress when they have to pay for counseling.
So at our church, we offer two kinds of counseling: (1) pastoral counseling, for which we charge no fee, and (2) professional counseling for which we charge on a sliding-scale rate, based on the client’s financial circumstances.
Develop a resource file
I vividly recall my first experience with a suicidal individual. Dave sat in my office, convinced his only viable option was to take his own life. My mind raced as I tried to think of what to do. Fortunately we were able to secure immediate help. Since then, we’ve formulated a plan to deal with such emergencies.
The potentially suicidal or homicidal person needs immediate hospitalization, and sometimes the police need to be brought in. So, I want to have at hand information necessary to deal with such people. The safety of counselees and those near them is paramount in such crisis situations.
Thus, my resource file contains names of private counselors, state agencies, mental health units of local hospitals, and the local police. And I make it a point to establish rapport with resource persons by telephone before I need to use their services.
I’ve also found it helpful to keep handy the phone numbers and addresses of organizations, like Alcoholics Anonymous, that specialize in helping people involved in substance abuse. I also know how to contact agencies that specialize in protecting abused children or spouses. Part of my resource file also includes information regarding local and federal child-protection statutes. Some states consider counselors criminally negligent if they fail to report even a suspected case of child abuse.
Remember the young man who phoned me early on a Monday morning? His emergency had been brewing for months, but he was able to wait until Tuesday evening for an appointment. I later referred him to a professional counselor, to whom he pays a reasonable fee. Thanks to his recent stay in the hospital to treat his chronic depression, he is now improving.
What made this possible? I’m not a professional counselor, nor did I give unlimited time to this young man. No, I was able to help this man and remain an effective pastor of my church because I set limits, recognized my capabilities, and knew where to turn for expertise.
So, besides helping troubled people who seek my counsel, my Sunday morning waterfall now seems more like a ride through mere rapids.
–Armin B. Sommer
Grace Baptist Church on the Mount
Stanhope, New Jersey
Leadership Spring 1991 p. 132-3
Copyright © 1991 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.