By Rev. Dr. Terence K. Leathers
When someone dies, people naturally look toward the pastor.
The pastor receives the call. The pastor goes to the hospital or the
home. The pastor sits with the family, prays with them, helps them make sense
of what has happened, prepares the funeral, delivers the eulogy, stands at the
graveside, and tries to provide a steady presence during one of the most
difficult moments of their lives.
This is sacred work. It is part of the privilege and responsibility of
pastoral ministry.
But then another member dies.
Another family experiences a crisis. Someone else is approaching the
anniversary of a spouse’s death. A widow who seemed to be doing well suddenly
begins struggling. A family needs counseling. Someone loses a child. Another
member is grieving a parent. Meanwhile, the pastor is still preaching,
teaching, leading meetings, counseling, visiting the sick, managing conflict,
providing vision, responding to emergencies, and carrying the ordinary
responsibilities of congregational leadership.
The problem is not that the pastor does not care.
The problem is that one person cannot sustainably carry the grief of an
entire congregation.
Bearing One Another’s Burdens
Galatians 6:2 tells us, “Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the
law of Christ.”
Notice that Scripture does not say that the pastor alone should bear the
burdens of the church. Caring for hurting people is part of what it means to be
the church.
This shift requires education because many congregations have developed a
pastoral-care culture in which care is expected to flow primarily through the
pastor. Members may sincerely believe, “That is what the pastor is here for.”
And pastors, because they deeply love their people, often accept that
responsibility.
But sustainable grief care requires us to move from a model in which the
pastor is the primary provider of nearly all care toward one in which the
pastor becomes both a provider and leader of care.
That distinction matters.
There are responsibilities that appropriately belong to the pastor. There
are moments when the grieving person needs the presence of his or her pastor.
Pastoral leadership, spiritual guidance, funeral ministry, significant family
conversations, theological questions, and serious crises should not simply be
handed to someone else.
But there are other expressions of care that prepared people within the
congregation can share.
Who remembers the first anniversary of the death? Who makes the follow-up
telephone call three months after the funeral? Who checks on the widow who is
suddenly eating dinner alone every evening? Who sends the card on the deceased
person’s birthday? Who notices that someone who lost a loved one has stopped
attending worship? Who simply sits and listens when the grieving person needs
to tell the story again?
Those acts of care do not always require the pastor.
They require a caring church.
Shared Care Is Not Abandoning Care
Some pastors may worry that involving others will make grieving families
feel that they are being handed off.
That should never be the goal.
Shared care should communicate exactly the opposite:
“Your church has not forgotten you.”
The pastor may remain connected while trained staff, deacons, ministers,
ministry leaders, or carefully selected laypersons provide additional layers of
support. Instead of one person attempting to remember every need, the
congregation begins developing a network of compassionate presence.
The question becomes not simply, “How can I care for everybody?”
It becomes, “How can I lead a church that cares for people?”
That is an important shift in pastoral leadership.
Building Care That Can Continue
Every pastor and church leader should consider some practical questions:
Who else in our congregation has the compassion and maturity to
participate appropriately in grief care? What responsibilities could safely be
shared? How would the pastor and care team communicate so that people do not
fall through the cracks? Who provides oversight? What situations should
immediately be referred back to the pastor or to a qualified mental health
professional?
There is another question that may be even more revealing:
What happens to our grief ministry when the pastor is unavailable?
What happens if the pastor becomes ill?
What happens during vacation or sabbatical?
What happens when several families experience losses at approximately the
same time?
What happens when the pastor retires?
If meaningful grief care largely stops when the pastor is unavailable,
the church may not yet have a sustainable grief-care ministry. It may have a
caring pastor.
There is an important difference.
The goal is not to diminish pastoral care. The goal is to multiply it.
A pastor should not become less compassionate as others become involved.
Instead, the pastor’s compassion begins shaping the culture of the congregation
until caring for grieving people becomes part of the church’s understanding of
itself.
The church begins to understand that we bear one another’s burdens.
We notice.
We remember.
We call.
We visit.
We listen.
We pray.
And we continue caring long after the funeral is over.
That kind of ministry also protects continuity. Pastors change. Staff
members change. Leadership changes. But a congregation that has learned how to
care can continue caring across generations of leadership.
So perhaps the question pastors should ask is not simply, “Am I providing
good pastoral care?”
The deeper leadership question is:
“Have I built a church that helps me provide care, or have I built a
church in which providing care still depends primarily on me?”
If the answer is that too much still depends upon the pastor, that
realization should not produce guilt. It should produce a plan.
Because the next question becomes unavoidable:
If others are going to help carry this sacred responsibility, how do we
prepare them to do it well?
