“Narcissism is the longing to be freed from longing.”
With these words, Chuck DeGroat unveils one of the most important works on practical ministry I have read. It is a book on narcissism in the church.
For some this will be a new concept; for others, it will reopen a great many painful and inexplicable wounds that they were given at the house of their friends. The idea that a pastor, a spiritual shepherd of the church, could be a psychological manipulator along the lines of an OJ Simpson or a Donald Trump (still a better choice than Marxism) is abhorrent to anyone, not just to faithful churchgoers. But for those few who have sincerely loved someone in ministry and have had their relationships (and maybe even their lives) irretrievably shattered by that person’s malignant narcissism, this book will be a warm light shining into a very dark place.
Narcissism involves the tendency we all have to some extent to consider ourselves of greater importance than we actually are, and to rearrange our lives in such a way that our “false self” begins to be more visible to others and our “true self” begins to be less visible. This allows us to maintain certain positive illusions that tend to our own perceived best interests, and helps us avoid having to reckon with the consequences of the negative actions we are ashamed of and have hidden deep inside us. For any human being this is an unhealthy thing; but for Christians it is extraordinarily dangerous, and for Christian leaders it can be incredibly destructive. And the most astonishing thing about what makes it work – for years and years, in good, Gospel-believing churches – is how invisible these dynamics can be.
With When Narcissism Comes to Church, Chuck lays out a scholarly, pastoral treatment of a subject that has been hinted at in many spheres but has never (to my knowledge) been dealt with in such a thoroughgoing manner. It is evident from the care he takes with his words and the many deliberate spectrums he works along, e.g. individual narcissism vs. systemic narcissism, stylistic vs. pathological, self-protective vs. overtly abusive, etc. that he genuinely cares not only about the victims of narcissistic spiritual abuse but about those who have been guilty of perpetrating their hidden fear and shame on those victims. To be sure his words to the guilty are direct and unapologetic, and his words for the innocent are tender and uplifting, but even in this it is a beautiful picture of the heart of Jesus, who calls every self-serving one of us to lay down our masks and open our hearts to Him.
And it is well that he is able to direct his ministry to both sides. For when a disciple of Jesus experiences the shock of the first realization that their pastor has knowingly betrayed them, and when that is followed with the higher shock that nobody is going to believe their story because the pastor has power over people’s perception of the event, and when that is followed with the final shock that most of those perceptions will forever view them as the problem for no better reason than that they told the truth, it is a devastating spiritual cocktail that can put their life in a downward spiral for a very long time. Boundaries and healing must become their primary focus, if they are taking good counsel, and forgiving someone who refuses to tell the truth about what happened and has no interest in reconciling can be almost impossible. The best they can often do is to leave it at the Cross and go on with their lives.
Chuck brings a calm, caring, thoughtful style that for any reader with personal experience will prompt them to the welcoming realization of “Oh – wait – he’s actually seen this happen! And he’s not afraid to actually call it what it is. And his voice carries weight. And maybe, someday, the leaders of my church will actually listen to him!” There are no words to explain how helpful this is to a sufferer, unless perhaps it be the blessed Comfort, comfort ye of the prophet Isaiah. And it is truly Isaiah’s hope of the Word of the Lord standing forever that brings us comfort, when sin has made all of our lips unclean.
The ubiquity of the problem is surely what makes it so grievous. As Chuck points out, ministry in our society has a unique magnetism to the narcissistic personality, for who else would want to speak on behalf of God every week? And what better culture for that to grow in than a materialistic, driven setting where truth is so quietly and brutally punished and convincing outward appearances are so visibly rewarded? It is this combination of power and position that makes an opportunity for spiritual abuse, and the words Chuck uses to describe it are indicative of one who has seen very bad things go down in the church. He lays out the nine faces of narcissism with a wise warning not to use them as a way to vindictively or thoughtlessly pigeonhole someone else, but everyone who has been affected will probably be impacted by at least one of the psychological sketches. They are real; and if we are honest, each of us will see something of ourselves in them too.
The irony of seeing those two worlds coming together, the world of unrepentant self-love and the eternal Kingdom of God, is what makes the idea of pastoral narcissism so difficult for us to conceive of. We all have a deep-seated need to believe that our pastor could not be guilty of such evil. No two points of view are more diametrically opposed than that of callously using others as a step to trample on to obtain the desires of the world, juxtaposed with that of fearlessly proclaiming the glories of the grace of Jesus Christ in an unassailable pulpit every week. To such blatant, public unbelief Chuck brings the only real corrective there can possibly be: The searing white-hot truth of the very Word of God we preach from every week, applied with all the tenderness and Christlike compassion he can muster. And to those who have been trampled on the way he stops to extend a hand of mercy, coupled with a heart for them that could only be sincerely felt by one who has seen for himself the trail of hurt sheep so cruelly left by the shepherds in the masks.
It’s the words he uses that show us unquestionably what he has seen: Cruel, manipulative, impatient, praising/withdrawing, intimidated/intimidating, steel-eyed, devious, exploitative, grandiose. Perhaps the most revealing is one he probably totally made up: Fauxnerability. This is no scholarly work that took shape in a dusty library high in an ivory tower. It is notes from the trenches, smeared with blood and dripped with tears, most likely used to bandage up somebody’s broken arm once or twice, certainly gripped and mangled during hours of anguished prayer while counseling people through their heartache, and barely unfolded and straightened out long enough to make it to the publisher’s.
Listen to him. Read the stories. Hurt with them. Hope with them. Catch a glimpse of Jesus as He lashes out in anger at those who would oppress others with burdens of spiritual falsehood, and as He speaks in deepest compassion to the poor in spirit for whom He will eventually take all the burden of the narcissism and evil in the world on His shoulders. And as you do, enter freely into the longing that Chuck unveils for us – the longing for our Promised Land, for our first fleeting glimpse of hope that our faithful Lord will someday make all things new.
JV

