The Question: Can my Priest be my Friend?
The relationship between clergy and parishioners is one of the most nuanced and complex relationships of all. Where are the boundaries between one's priest and one's friend?
Recently, I wrote an article pulling back the curtain a bit on the day-to-day schedule many parish clergy keep. As I often do, towards the end of the piece, I asked for feedback, and a wonderfully thoughtful though difficult question was asked, which was essentially: “Can my priest be my friend?” It is a perennial question, worthy of careful consideration, and one that just about every ordained person I know wrestles with at various points in their ministry.
First, a disclaimer: different judicatories, dioceses, conferences, synods, and denominations draw some distinctions on this question in some importantly different ways. I’m reflecting on my own approach, in my own diocese, in my own experience. There is plenty of good room for reasonable minds to disagree! That said, a lack of clarity between a priest or pastor and their judicatory head (bishop, general presbyter, superintendent, etc.) around this question almost always leads to trouble. Sometimes, a judicatory head may have different views from the priests and pastors under their care, and while judicatory heads should communicate clearly on these issues, it is incumbent upon the priest or pastor to clarify what is and is not out of bounds because, at the end of the day, it is the priest or pastor who may come under discipline. More on that later.
At the end of the day, I think this question really boils down to a question about self-differentiation. My friend, colleague, and mentor Dr. Kay Collier McLaughlin has literally written books on this subject, and has taught me almost all I know about it. Go read her work to learn much more! What I mean by self-differentiation is how clear am I about where Marshall Jolly stops and where someone else begins? All of us are interdependent upon one another. The Blessed Apostle writes eloquently about the Body of Christ’s interdependence. But how well are we able to see the difference between decision-making, or responding to situations based on facts, versus decision-making, or responding to situations based on emotions resulting from our relationships with others?
When parishioners come to see me in my office for pastoral guidance, they are very often emotional about some or other situation in their life. While it is important for me to show compassion and empathy, it’s not only inappropriate for me to become as emotional about the issue as they are, it’s wholly unhelpful. They’ve come for guidance, not for pathos. It’s the same reason the flight attendant tells you to put on your own oxygen mask before helping others: if you’re suffocating, you’re no help to the rest of us who are suffocating! The counterpoint to this is that austere clinical detachment is also unhelpful. Differentiating one’s emotions is not the same as being unable or unwilling to be emotional.
I started with the question of differentiation because, very often, folks will say something well-meaning like, “I’m telling you this as my friend, not as my priest.” To be honest, I don’t really know what that means. I can no more park the fact that I’m a priest than I can pretend that I’m not married, or that I’m not a Christian. It’s ontological—it’s literally part of who I am. In fact, if at any point I’m saying or doing something that a priest or a husband or a Christian should not be doing, I think we’d all agree that there’s a problem somewhere, and I’m in need of the confessional at very least, and discipline or legal action in extremes.
When I think about the question of friendship as it relates to pastoral relationships, I think about it like this: my friendship with this individual with whom I have a pastoral relationship exists within my priesthood. In the same way that I can’t pretend I’m not a priest, I also can’t be in a place of being unable to be a priest because of my friendship. One must be subordinate to the other. Of course, in the same way that all friendships change over time, so to do pastoral relationships. If my friendship with someone will cause me to violate my vows as a priest, husband, or Christian, then something has gone very wrongly somewhere.
With this in mind, I return again to the question I raised from the start: can my priest be my friend? I think the answer must be “yes—and…” Friendship between clergy and parishioners cannot mean “anything goes,” or that there are certain boundaries that one can choose to ignore. But then again, no healthy friendship can possibly tolerate an “anything goes” attitude. Part of the reason my best friend (who is not a parishioner, nor is he a practicing Christian) is my best friend, is not only the fact that we can be brutally honest with each other, but that we depend upon one another to be brutally honest. Another dimension of this comes in the fact that I want the same things for my parishioners as I do for my friends: I want you to be healthy, authentic, and flourishing as who and what and how you were created by God to be.
Part of the uneasiness behind the question of whether priests and parishioners can be friends with each other is, frankly, the result of abuse. A pastor cannot become romantically involved with a parishioner, even if both are otherwise single and eligible, because of the vast power differential that exists in the pastoral relationship between a cleric and a parishioner. In situations where romantic feelings organically arise between a single and eligible pastor and a single and eligible parishioner, the pastoral relationship must be severed at the outset so any potentially romantic relationship can be evaluated on its own merits without the power differential tipping the scales in one direction or another, and one must speak with one’s judicatory head before the proverbial horse has left the barn. It is always a good idea to get outside guidance and consult with one’s judicatory head when these situations arise.
In a similar vein, a pastor and parishioner’s friendship, business relationship, etc. cannot get in the way of the pastoral relationship. If I find myself treating certain parishioners different than others because of some other form of connection or relationship, that’s unethical. Other professions refer to this as a “dual relationship conflict.” My attorney cannot (or should not) be my brother because our familial relationship may interfere with his ability to provide honest legal advice, and may also interfere with my ability or desire to follow it. Related to this: does anyone really expect a pastor’s own mother to come to them for confession and absolution?
The truth is, America is in a crisis of friendship—or, more accurately, a lack thereof. There’s a pervasive joke that goes like this: “The most amazing of Jesus’ miracles is the one nobody’s talking about: the fact that a thirty-something single guy could have twelve close friends!” It’s funny, sadly, because it’s so often true. Very few people who are not either pastors themselves or married to pastors have any real understanding of the day-to-day gifts and challenges of the work. That’s not unique to pastors, of course—how many non-attorneys or non-physicians know what attorneys and physicians get up to every day, despite what General Hospital or Law & Order might lead us to believe? After all, aren’t pastors surrounded with people who ostensibly have something in common with each other all the time? Again—yes, and… Pastors need friends, both inside and outside the parish, who can respect appropriate boundaries, but not otherwise treat them differently than anyone else.
Then, of course, there’s the question of the clergy spouse. Although I am not a clergy spouse, and thus I write only by way of conjecture, I can say with certainty that few jobs come with more assumptions and less understanding than that of a clergy spouse.
There is much more that can and should be said about this dynamic, but here are a few keystones that I’ve held out in my ministry over the years:
Self-differentiated people recognize self-differentiated people. Likewise, self-differentiated people tend to recognize undifferentiated or poorly-differentiated people.
My friend Chana said to me years ago something I’ll never forget: “There is no such thing as a small or insignificant yellow flag.” If something doesn’t feel right in your gut, TRUST THAT FEELING. Do an ethics/vibes consult with a trusted friend.
Integrity is the capacity for choosing the right thing which is harder over the easier thing which is simpler. If you’re choosing easy over right, it’s time to do some self-reflection.
Pastoral confidence does not extend to my spouse (and in my unique situation, because my wife is a mental health provider, confidentiality in her line of work does not extend to me.) Don’t assume that because you’ve told me something in confidence that I’ve looped in my spouse—or anyone other than fellow clergy and pastoral care leaders who are providing care. Relatedly, the reverse is not true: if a parishioner tells my wife something and asks her not to tell me, my wife will tell them that she can’t do that and tell me anyway because I am their pastor, not her.
Permit me one last observation that is related to this question: people who are introverted versus extroverted. If I never hear another person say, “Well, introverts are just not people persons,” I’ll die a happy man. Extroversion and introversion are questions of where one derives one’s energy. Extroverts tend to be energized by others, and introverts tend to be energized from within. Many introverts I know are social butterflies! Likewise, many extroverts I know are perfectly content to spend the day browsing the shelves at the local bookstore! There’s a pervasive myth in the church that extroversion is preferable to introversion among clergy. In fact, when I announced my departure from a former parish, a parishioner commented, “Well, when we get our next Rector, we need to make sure they’re an extrovert like you are, not an introvert!” What does that even mean? Both extroverts and introverts can be highly self-differentiated and highly undifferentiated. Care must be taken to ensure that both can thrive. I put this kind of misguided thinking right up there with “Well, he or she doesn’t look like a priest/bishop…”
So what do you think? Have you thought about the complexity of clergy-parishioner friendships before? Leave a comment! Share the article!
I think priests and their spouses absolutely NEED friends in and out of the congregation. The problem comes when some parishioners feel excluded from the “inner circle.” Having said that, often those folks often lack confidence anyway. Is that self-differentiation?
Years ago I heard my daughter tell her college friends that I was her best friend. When she was a little older, I explained that while we thoroughly enjoyed each others company and deeply cared about each other, we could never be “friends”. My reasoning was based on the imbalance in the relationship. It would be unfair of me to share some of my troubles about other family members with her. I see relationships with pastors in the same way. The relationship is very meaningful but not one where both sides can openly confide in each other.
PS I so enjoy learning from you but your use of Hermeneutics in today’s sermon drove me to the dictionary!