Pastors may be more vulnerable to pornography than others
by Richard Nevard

Christian ministry is a unique vocation. Ordinary men and women, who sense
God’s prompting, lay aside their own personal ambitions in order to serve
others. Clergypersons are no different than the rest of the human race. They
have the same passions, hopes, and dreams as everyone else. These men and women
also have the same stirrings as others: they are sexual beings, moved by the
same passions of life and influenced by the same negative forces.

In fact, a pastor’s own position and typical temperament can make him more
prone to sexual addictions. Environmental factors play a huge role in character
development and susceptibility. Statistics show higher percentages of clergy
come from dysfunctional families than not. (See Understanding Clergy Misconduct in Religious Systems by Candace Benvei.) Some enter ministry, freed from their own personal hell,
wishing to help others get free as well. But once ordained, they discover that
more healing was necessary and hell has caught up with them. Others enter
ministry as a desperate attempt to overcome their own personal dysfunctions,
hoping such a commitment will deliver them from the sin that has held them.

Often those who emerge from these dysfunctional family influences are
disoriented men and women and codependent martyrs who find their worth in the
praise of others, craving connectedness yet unable to connect. Pornography,
thus, becomes an escape, where the pain of childhood trauma and current
stresses can be momentarily eluded. Pornography becomes a form of
self-medication, a coping strategy for feelings of low self-worth or self-pity.

Add to the scenario the particular job of the pastorate and you begin to see
why pornography addiction tends to be the “drug of choice” for
clergy. H.B. London refers to pastoral ministry as “the terrible tyranny
of the unfinished.” Pastors preach and teach, visit and counsel; they
balance budgets and plan events, promote causes, chair committees, and conduct
weddings and funerals. In their spare time, they mow the church lawn and sweep
up.

Today’s clergy families live their lives in a fishbowl. Church members
impose expectations upon pastors and their families that they themselves have
no intentions of keeping. Both the character and work of a pastor is lived out
under a microscope. Is there any wonder why they are insecure, why they display
a false persona, and why they fall? Insecurity is hammered hard by the negative
events in ministry. Whether real or imagined, the clergy mind tells them that
they are not allowed to be human. Consider the following survey results from
J.B. London and Neil B. Wiseman’s book, Pastors at Risk:

  • 90 percent of pastors work
    more than 46 hours a week.
  • 80 percent of pastors believe
    ministry negatively affected their families.
  • 50 percent felt unable to
    meet the needs of the job.
  • 45 percent report significant
    stress-related crisis at least once in ministry.
  • 90 percent felt inadequately
    trained to cope with ministry demands.
  • 70 percent say they have a
    lower self-esteem now compared to when they started out in ministry.
  • 70 percent do not have
    someone that they consider a close friend.

It’s easy for ministers to give help – it’s hard for ministers to get help.
Overwhelmed with the tremendous amount of work and idealistic expectations,
they desperately seek out some form of relief, some escape from their reality.
Completely vulnerable, they are ripe for attack.

Ministry is undoubtedly one of the loneliest professions in the world. You
would think the opposite were true. In truth, practically every clergy-lay
person relationship is superficial. Many ministers are cautioned not to get too involved with the members of their church. Instead, the pastor
invests himself or herself in half-hearted relationships at the cost of
spending time with his or her family.

Not only do they isolate themselves from the people they serve, but also
pastors can at times isolate themselves from one another because of jealousy
and competition. If they come from a church tradition with a hierarchical
structure, they rarely share their frustrations with those tasked with
shepherding them, such as bishops, for fear they may jeopardize future
opportunities for advancement. The isolated shepherd regretfully concludes that
he or she must suffer alone.

To further illustrate the loneliness of the ministry, consider the fact that
in almost all cases they have left extended families in order to serve other
families in other communities. While congregants gather together with family
for weekend gatherings and holiday meals, the ministry family is unable to make
such connections. A very large portion of emotional support is given up when
the pastor accepts a call from a church.

Tied closely to this issue of isolation is the matter of unaccountability.
The minister’s schedule is enigmatic. Ministry often requires pastors to lock
themselves in their office for hours at a time and make late night hospital
visits. No one knows for sure what goes on behind those closed doors or where
they may stop when out. Because a pastor is considered “above
reproach,” rarely is there any supervision or accountability.

The pastor lives on the razor’s edge of anxiety and
vulnerability. Overwhelmed by the work of ministry, isolated from life-giving
relationships, and haunted by the ghosts of his or her past, the pastor finds
himself or herself weak and defenseless, susceptible to whatever flaming arrows
may come. As they obsess about their circumstances, their anxiety increases.
Distorted thoughts perpetuate, and exacerbate the anxiety until they are unable
to reason clearly. They no longer find the strength to hold to God. In fact,
their mind will actually work against them, rationalizing a need to mentally
block God off in order to allow sin to present another alternative. Unable to
fight these intense feelings any longer, the clergyperson must find a way of
escape. As they use their “drug,” the symptoms of anxiety decrease,
negatively reinforcing the behavior and greatly diminishing their power to
overcome. “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of
death?” (Rom. 7:24)

Sometimes understanding the why can help us work through the how. If what I
described sounds a lot like your autobiography, there is a way through this. It
starts with talking with someone, preferably your spouse, and it involves
getting a good counselor to help you deal with your past so you can begin to
make a future. There’s a lot more to it, but here’s where you can begin. The
process is long and hard, too hard to walk alone, but there is light at the end
of the tunnel. At the other end is wholeness and healing and restoration. Come
on – let’s walk this together.