I don’t know about you, but I’ve had my share of anxieties over preaching. Whether anxiety’s ugly head was raised during my preparation time or when I stood before my listeners to preach, I confess that I was gripped by anxiety.

I’ve seen anxiety exhibited by those whom I know that preach on a regular basis and have seen fretting and fussing sideline preachers. Not only that, but also, I’ve had students in my classes who’ve been tangled up in the tentacles of their own life’s fretfulness.

What causes preachers to be anxious? A preacher’s apprehensions are layered and certainly textured depending on the person. Yet, there might be a few common areas over which preachers are twisted with concern.

Below are a few suggested segments of a preacher’s life in which anxiety might stalk all of us as preachers.

Anxious About the Preaching Task

Anxiety over the act of preaching can cripple any preacher. I long remember laying on the floor of my study as a newly minted pastor paralyzed with fear over studying the passage—will I get it right? As I lay in a prone position on the carpeted study floor my mind swirled with “what ifs” that might sideline the sermon: unfaithful exegesis, a sloppy sermon structure, unclear communication while speaking, trepidation from standing in front of the congregation. What will they think of me? I was shaken with anxiety.

As a preaching professor I taught students who were equally intimidated by the preaching task. There was Gary a student in the first preaching course who later informed me that when he excused himself before he preached that he went to the restroom to vomit. Gary shared with me that this anxious pre-preaching habit followed him into his first pastorate, but then evaporated as he became less stressed about preaching. I’m grateful that Gary overcame his anxiety to become an accomplished preacher.

Then there was Ellie who froze every time she stood in front of the class to preach. She was gripped with fear—fear of the preaching task, afraid of reactions to her being a woman preacher, afraid of not getting it right, terrified of her listeners. The class seemed as if it was in suspended animation as we waited patiently for Ellie to thaw before our very eyes and continue her sermon. She became less fearful as she progressed through the first and on into the second preaching courses. Although she had anxiety about the preaching task, she pressed on to overcome it.

Anxious preachers need not be discouraged as we are in good company with Martin Luther who said, “Although I am old and experienced, I am afraid every time I preach.”

Anxious About the Congregation

I must confess that worry is one of my spiritual gifts. Although Jesus made the statement that his followers weren’t to worry—that they had no need to worry—when I read those words “do not worry about your life” (Matt. 6:25), I imagine that he’s talking about someone else, surely not me. My anxiety is heightened in the dark of night when my pillow should be my friend. Instead, my mind creates scenarios and spins out of control.

I can recall as a young pastor I worried about the tensions in the church, concern for physically ill or spiritually immature members, and was daunted by the needs of those under my care. I worried about what the congregation thought of me. I became, as a line from the movie Steel Magnolias states, “a trouble-twisted soul” in the nocturnal hours.

There was a grievously difficult annual business meeting which took place while I was on a tour of Israel. Upon my return I landed at the airport and a deacon came get me. No sooner did we meet that he described the dirty details of the meeting gone wrong. People shouted at each other, tears were shed, egos hurt—and ultimately, the Lord was dishonored by their behavior.

I knew that the next Sunday I needed to call folks to repentance. My worry meter was on high. Anxiety coursed through my veins. Yet, when I spoke to them as their loving pastor, my worry withered and we all came to a place of forgiveness—well, except for Larry and his wife June. That’s another story.

Anxiety for one’s congregation comes in various forms. Sometimes it’s avoidable, while at other times we must face it head on. I admit, I’m still not the best at managing worry but recognize the call to forge ahead despite distress and fear.

Anxious About One’s Family and Finances

Being a ministry family can create anxiety. Preachers live in fishbowls. Being concerned about maintaining a healthy home life is real. Preachers might feel as if they are on display at home and in the community. Even one’s children might face unrealistic expectations that create anxiety. “You’re the preacher’s kid ….” The high bar that’s placed on the preacher is transferred to the entire ministry family and it can be stressful.

The challenges of anxiety caused by inadequate compensation is something that many ministry families face. We are saddled with high expectations and often low compensation. Many preachers handle household budgets that reflect a scant salary. Many churches use the excuse that the preacher does what he or she does “for the Lord.”

Underpayment is unchristian. The Apostle Paul details that those who serve the Lord are to be cared for appropriately (1 Cor. 9). Sometimes the church contributes to the anxiety a minister faces because of a lack of responsibility and fairness.

If a pastor has children, he or she will be concerned about their health, education, and overall wellbeing. If a child is ill or differently abled or challenged by some other issue, these matters can create immense anxiety. Like others in the congregation, the preacher may have family matters that consume time, energy, and even money—siblings who need help, elderly parents who require attention, or children who have given up the faith. At the same time, pastors may face their own physical and mental limitations. All of these and much more create anxiety for any preacher.

Anxious About Listener Criticism

All these angsts can add up to one big ball of anxiety. This is a nervous age. We live on the edge of unease. It doesn’t help that our sermons and lives are run through the shredder of criticism from the sidelines.

Critical listeners can make for anxious preachers. While visiting a pastor friend I waited in line to greet him following the worship service. He preached a fine, clear, well developed, and applied sermon. In front of me in line was a self-appointed preaching critic. I could overhear that he homed in on a word the preacher used—a word that wasn’t crucial to the sermon about which the faultfinder took exception. I could see my friend struggle with the interchange. Following the service I tried to encourage my friend. He was dispirited, on edge, made more anxious.

Tussling with contentious listeners is yet another layer of anxiety we confront as preachers, but one that is often unavoidable. “The combative you will always have with you.” For some reason or another these immature Christians are around and cause much pastoral anxiety.

Conclusion

What can a preacher do when he or she is strapped with anxiety that comes from the task of preaching, concerns over the congregation, family worries, and critical listeners?

The Word of the Lord is the source of our faith and its practice. The Word tells us this: “Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:7). Don’t forget it. Do it. I don’t want to sound dismissive. I don’t mean to be simplistic. Savor the words. Let them seep deeply into your soul, into your mind, into your thinking, and into your actions.

The truth of the text is this: Give him your concerns because he’s concerned about you. No matter what you face in your anxious world, the Lord cares about you. “Casting all your anxiety on him” is another way of saying, pray. Anxious preacher, give him your concerns because he’s concerned about you.

Scott M. Gibson is the Professor of Preaching and holder of the David E. Garland Chair of Preaching at Baylor University/Truett Seminary in Waco, Texas. He also served as the Haddon W. Robinson Professor of Preaching and Ministry at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary in South Hamilton, Massachusetts, where he was on faculty for twenty-seven years.