Minilogue - October 2005

Morale Boosting File

By the Rev. Bruce Johnson

0nce upon a time, when I was in divinity school, a wise professor advised a class of would-be pastors to begin creating a “Morale Boosting File” filled with positive affirmations of our ministries: thank-you notes, birthday cards, award certificates, photos of smiling search committees, crayon drawings presented as gifts by wide-eyed, wondering children, poems written by grateful counselees, “thought-you’d-be-interested-in-this” newspaper clippings from parishioners, and other miscellaneous expressions of appreciation and reminders of our positive impact on people’s lives.

“Ministry is a difficult vocation,” he said, “and it will wear you down or burn you out if you’re not careful. Allow yourself to be nurtured by others, and remember to nurture yourself. You will receive plenty of criticism throughout your ministry, and some of it may cut pretty deeply. There’s an understandable tendency to dwell on the negative voices, and at such times you may need some hard evidence to remind yourself that you’re not, after all, an abject failure.” So he recommended the collection of materials that would serve as a counterbalance to the harsh (mostly internal) voices of judgment, a kind of “catalogue of grace” to browse through on those cold, dark nights of the soul.

I remember thinking at the time that such a practice seemed somehow selfish and inappropriate for a minister. Wasn’t the true spiritual leader supposed to be humble and self-effacing, like Lao-Tzu, wandering off unnoticed into the mountains after his work was done, while the people said “Amazing, we did it all by ourselves!”? (Tao te Ching, Chapter 17). Wouldn’t such spiritual scrapbooking inevitably lead to an inflated ego? At the same time, of course, I secretly doubted that I would ever be able to accumulate much of an “affirmations file.” Somehow, though, the professor’s words took root, and over the last twenty years or so I have managed - without really trying, of course! - to gather a fairly fat folder of papers that can bring a smile to my face or grateful tears to my eyes on those occasions when I need a little lift.

The point of this story, of course, is that such self-care strategies are not just for ministers. Each of us would do well to gather and savor souvenirs of the soul, tangible reminders of the positive impact we have had on the world. Treasuring these tokens is not a selfish or egotistical practice, but rather a way of tending to our own souls, replenishing ourselves so that we can be more wholly present and available to others.

That, at any rate, is what I learned back in divinity school, and now I pass it along to you.