Can Prophetic Pastors Have Friends?

Can prophets have friends? I’ve thought about this question since divinity school days, when I was a student at Vanderbilt, nicknamed “The School of the Prophets.” On the opening day of orientation, the president of SGA, Stephen Baldwin (now a Presbyterian pastor and former state senator from West Virginia) walked up to the podium microphone and called out, “Where are the prophets?” The room was silent. Again he called out, “Where are the prophets?” Eventually a few of the incoming students began to slowly and carefully raise their hands until all of us slowly and carefully raised our hands. The point of the message that afternoon was a charge for all of us as incoming students to live into the prophetic tradition of the institution.

I confess that on that first day, I found the expectation that I would call myself a “prophet” to be completely terrifying! I mean, weren’t the biblical prophets all strange and lonely people who usually lived on the outskirts? When the prophets showed up in town or in the houses of worship, didn’t they usually share prophesies that focused on all the things that folks were doing wrong, and the bad things that were going to happen as a result? Weren’t most of them murdered? Was this the life I was supposed to be committing to? Yikes!

After years of theological education and training, ordination prep, serving as a hospital chaplain, divinity school administrator, and now as a local church pastor, I think I have found my prophetic voice, regularly commenting publicly on the intersections of Christianity and public life. Yet, it’s not easy. Striving to be a prophetic pastor in a nation deeply divided along lines of politics, religion, race and class is an incredible challenge.

Journalist Bill Moyers once said, “We seem to prefer a comfortable lie to the uncomfortable truth. We punish those who point out reality, and reward those who provide us with the comfort of illusion. Reality is fearsome .. but experience tells us that more fearsome yet is evading it.” What Moyers identifies is that to be a pastor without a prophetic voice, without calling out injustice when we see it all around us, is to be an inauthentic representative of Jesus and a poor witness to the core Gospel message of liberation and life abundant. And yet, Moyers’ quote also reminds us that to be in the profession of ministry, where our actual livelihoods are dependent on the maintenance of harmonious relationships with others in our community, makes prophetic pastoring really, really hard.

I am fortunate to be a pastor at a church that expects me to make them uncomfortable at times, which is an incredible blessing. I realize that not all churches operate that way or perhaps have invisible limits on the discomfort they will tolerate. However, because a pastor is a pastor pretty much everywhere they go, I find that using a prophetic voice in ministry has costs for me even outside of my immediate church community.

I’m a mom to three young girls who I just dropped off at their first day of the new school year. For context, we live in one of the most conservative states in the country with one of the most outspokenly “Christian” legislatures in our capitol. I’ve learned that life in this state means that some are uncomfortable or even offended by my mere existence as a female pastor. (Hey, y’all! We do exist!) Making friends with other parents and families in the school community is really important; I learned this in our first year at this particular school. The school, like many spaces in my city share a wide array of political affiliations, religious convictions and social perspectives. As such, again and again I have found myself wondering if I need to tone down the prophetic part of my ministerial identity for the sake of making friends, both for my spouse and I, and even more importantly, for our kids! When a fellow parent sends a connection request on social media, I feel anxious, knowing that they will now see my sermons posted, organizations I support and public issues that I comment on through my lens as a religious leader. I spend way too much emotional energy pondering the question of, “Will I be rejected once they know who I am?” I wonder, am I the Jeremiah - tolerated until it is decided I am intolerable? Or will I be John the Baptist - doomed to live alone in the desert, living off of locusts and honey?

I can’t remember where I saw it, but a couple of years ago, I saw a viral meme that said something like, “If you are holding yourself in because you are afraid someone won’t like you, know that they already don’t like you. They only like the toned-down, censored version of you that you are allowing to be seen.” I found this idea incredibly helpful - that even if I hold inside the person I believe God has called me to be, and the responsibilities I have as a part of my ordination, I’m still not really winning anyone over. Authentic friendships come from authentic relating with the whole of our selves, not the superficial niceties we try to pass off as being friendly. Being liked is not the same as having friends. Many of us worry that carrying the identity of pastor, particularly one living into the call to use their prophetic voice to point to the Way of Jesus, might mean we end up with no friends. I think we are wrong about that.

At 43 years of age, I’ve learned that it is possible to have friends across the deep divides we currently face in this world, even when following in the prophetic tradition of practicing public theology, and commenting on what the Christian tradition has to say about world events. I’ve learned that those who quickly reject, label, ostracize and are unwilling to dialogue across difference are really not the type of individuals who would have ever landed in my circle of friends, even if I were in a different line of work. The Walt Whitman quote recently revived in the TV show Ted Lasso, “Be curious, not judgmental,” reminds me of the qualities that I find it most helpful to seek in friendships as a ministry professional. I like this quote because it also reminds me that I don’t always have it right. I believe that part of honing the prophetic voice is actively dialoguing with those who think and see the world differently. It is possible to develop the prophetic from a starting place of humility. In fact, it’s probably better to start from a humble disposition toward God and neighbor.

I have developed some friendships - not a lot, but some - in recent years with those who are quite different from me in many ways, but who share my curiosity and core belief that, if we are willing to lean into discomfort and open our hearts, we will find new possibilities for making this world a better place. The kin-dom of God won’t be built without prophets bearing witness to the teachings of Christ, but it also won’t be built by a mere echo chamber of like-minded folks.

So, as Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors sing, “You gotta find your people.” They are out there. It is possible to use your prophetic voice and still have a community of friends, even some who disagree, that help hold you up and carry on in your ministry. So yes, prophetic pastors can have friends.