Beneath our clothes, our reputations, our pretensions,
Beneath our religion or lack of it,
We are all vulnerable both to the storm without,
and to the storm within,
And if we are to find true shelter,
It is with the recognition of our tragic nakedness
and need for shelter that we have to start.
–Frederick Buechner.
You can read the previous post here.
The gospel offers the only way out of the life-sucking bondage of narcissism. That Jesus thinks of us, turns his face towards us, and died for us—though we are small and weak—speaks to the depth of his love for us. The very essence of Jesus, our Good Shepherd, is the opposite of a narcissistic superiority complex. Jesus did not “count equality with God something to be grasped but emptied himself by taking the form of a servant” (Phil. 2:7). Leaders characterized by doing nothing from selfish ambition, but humbly considering the needs of others are more truly human than those who seek to stand above others in power, intellect, morality, wealth, or whatever other characteristic they leverage to prove their worth. Biblically, the image of a spiritual leader is a tender shepherd who, like Jesus, clothes, strengthens, heals, pursues and feeds the “sheep” under his care. Jesus, in taking on human flesh, gave up glory to empathize in every way with his human sheep. He experienced raw emotion, hunger, and pain. Jesus did not assert his superiority over his sheep but walked beside them. That is, from his position as God, Jesus descended into human suffering and gave up his life for the sheep he loved. Narcissistic shepherds seeking to assert their own glory do not descend into the mucky realities of their sheep because to descend is to give up glory. Pastor and counselor Paul Tripp says, “There are too many pastors who do not understand that their ministries are more shaped by self-glory than by the glory of the risen, ever-present, all-sufficient Christ.”[1]

Unmasking Narcissistic Shepherds
Except for the purpose of making themselves look “humble and loving,”[2] rarely do glory-seeking leaders engage in unrecognized tasks such as cleaning church bathroom stalls and teaching toddlers. If these leaders happen to oversee a small congregation and have no choice but to do these “menial” tasks, they complain about the “injustice” of it to a select, loyal few, while publicly putting on a show of humble service. These leaders grow resentful and disgruntled by the abused, the disabled, the depressed, the childish, or the financially dependent who require more behind-the-scenes energy and time. More than once I’ve heard false shepherds describe their personal path to glory by detailing how “in the early years” of their ministry they shoveled snow in parking lots and mowed the church lawn. But once their church grew, they saw such tasks as beneath them. Shoveling snow and mowing the lawn were simply a means to an end—their ministry success and personal glory. Narcissistic shepherds often devote their time to the “important tasks of ministry” such as preaching, writing, and teaching; that is, they prefer ministry tasks that are public, popular, and more likely to engender praise. In my work as a counselor, I hear stories of false shepherds who demand to be served rather than serve. In one instance, a lay-elder was told he shouldn’t spend as much time helping a socially impaired and needy congregant but instead should “use your time to serve your pastor.” When that elder chose to follow the Holy Spirit’s prompting and continue serving the needy congregant, his pastor shamed him for “not being present in my time of need.” That false shepherd felt entitled to the time and energy of not only the sheep in the pews, but also the other elders and leaders in the church. In other words, this pastor acted as though the entire congregation existed to make him look and feel superior. Sheep living under this type of self-centered leadership experience a life-draining oppression.
Unmasking Narcissistic Church Family
Many of my counselling clients are individuals who have been used and abused by glory-seeking shepherds in their homes and churches. Since Christians identify as part of the extended family of God, each church operates as a unique family unit. When these family units are run by narcissistic shepherds, they are essentially narcissistic family systems to one degree or another. That is, the narcissistic “parents” or “shepherds” do not care for the emotions and spiritual needs of their “children” but use and abuse them to feed their desire for self-glory. The first time these wounded sheep enter my office, they present as confused and disoriented by their experiences. There is something particularly evil about church leaders entrusted by God with strengthening the weak, caring for the wounded, and pursuing the lost, using their position and power to do the very opposite. When needy sheep are treated like an inconvenience to “the real ministry of the church” (sadly, a phrase I’ve heard many times from the mouths of so-called shepherds) the sheep begin to question their worth and value in God’s sight. When the gifts of the sheep are used to feed the leader’s desire to feel valuable, eventually these sheep find themselves starving and burnt out. Sadly, when the starving sheep approach false shepherds asking for sustenance, they are met with “force and harshness,” and not only that, their commitment to God and church is called into question.
For example, in one of our many church experiences, my husband met with a pastor to ask about his vision for soul care and discipleship. The pastor eagerly explained how he, along with other campus pastors and staff members, spent one whole day a week just hanging out, encouraging one another with Scripture, going out to lunch, then dinner, and giving feedback on sermon manuscripts. My husband responded, “Wow. That’s great. I can see how having pastoral fellowship is important. How can you create that kind of fellowship for men in your congregation that work full time jobs in secular contexts? They can’t embed an entire day—with pay—for fellowship and bible study, especially if they have teenagers. So, how do you seek to provide the same level of soul care you experience with your fellow pastors, for the men in your congregation?” The pastor’s response? He grimaced, then said, “Jon, we can’t do that. It’s just not possible.” The pastor went on to say there weren’t any men’s groups available because they weren’t well-attended, and Jon should be satisfied with the one small group he and I could attend together. Jon explained that, unfortunately, the small group leaders of the one group we could attend didn’t allow kids. The pastor’s reply: “Well, maybe you need to adjust your work hours in order to make it to another group.” When Jon got home from his meeting with the pastor he said with exasperation, “I feel like the American Church is its own version of Animal Farm[3]. The pastors are the pigs who get paid to sit around and chew the fat while the rest of us are the workhorses slaving to provide for our families, serve the church, and struggling to carve out time for spiritual growth and fellowship!”
In other words, false shepherds, rather than pause and consider how their own failure to love might be contributing to the starving condition of the sheep, accuse the sheep of being selfish for wanting to be fed. Rather than reflect on how disconnected they are from the day-to-day struggles of their sheep, false shepherds assume the sheep should sacrifice time and money to conform to the established church structures. If the sheep push back on this one-sided demand, they are often labeled selfish, divisive, or stubborn. That is, when the shepherd is called out on his refusal to sacrifice his own time, schedule, and resources, he projects his self-absorption onto the starving sheep.
Taking Responsibility: Choosing Vulnerability
Human beings, desperate to avoid the reality of their weakness and sin, suppress, avoid, and cover it up. Modern-day Christians cover their human weakness with intellect, social media likes, blog posts, book deals, and “right” theology. Yet these flimsy coverings fail to hide the reality of our weakness and shame. In the garden of Eden, Adam tried covering his human weakness and shame with fig leaves. When that didn’t work out, he resorted to hiding behind some bushes in the corner of the garden. But hiding didn’t work either. God exposed Adam’s frantic cover-up and retreat into the bushes with three simple words: “Where are you?” Those three words invited Adam to step into the light, his shame exposed before the God who loved him. Yet, Adam, like a two-year-old hiding from his parents after disobeying their command, replied, “I heard you coming, and I was afraid.” Rather than admit the real reason for his fear—his disobedience and frantic attempts to cover his shame on his own ingenuity—he blamed both his wife and God in the same breath! “This woman that you gave me, she took the fruit first! Then she gave it to me.” Adam, just like the false shepherds in Ezekiel 34, just like narcissistic parents and pastors today, out of his own sin and pride blamed the person he was supposed to protect. Then Eve covered her vulnerability and shame by shifting the blame to the serpent who tempted her. Since that garden scene, blame-shifting has been humanity’s go-to strategy for escaping responsibility and covering shame. We hide, we point, and we accuse.
But God, rich in grace and forgiveness, moved towards Adam and Eve to clothe their sin and shame. He removed their fig leaves, crafted garments especially for them, and covered their nakedness. Now Jesus offers to clothe both false shepherds and wounded sheep with himself. He invites each of us to step into vulnerability, drop our fig leaves and trust that Jesus’ beauty and grace is sufficient to cover our shame. True shepherds and sheep lay their fig leaves at the foot of the cross and say, “Jesus, free me these frantic efforts to prove my worth. Free me from trying to justify my existence. Help me rest in claiming your beauty, love, and perfect righteousness as my very own.”
In other words, the antidote to human narcissism is accepting the gospel truth that “We are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.”[4]
Reflection
As you write your timeline, reflect on the category of narcissism and the “family” nature of your church experiences.
- Did you carry any traumatic family of origin stories into these events? How have these events triggered and/or intensified old wounds?
- On the flip side, did you carry grace-filled family of origin stories into these events? How have those sweet memories been marred or changed by these events?
- How does the antidote to narcissism—choosing vulnerability and resting in Christ’s love—offer hope?
*You can find other posts in this series here.
[1] Tripp, Paul David. Dangerous Calling. Crossway. 2012. pg. 169.
[2] It’s important to note that psychologists classify narcissistic presentation in two general categories: grandiose and vulnerable or overt vs. covert. The category of “grandiose” or “overt” seeks to capture the more charismatic, extroverted, over-the-top (and generally more obvious) presentation of arrogant self-absorption. The category “vulnerable” or “covert” seeks to capture the quieter, more introverted, more hidden forms of arrogant self-absorption. The second presentation of narcissism can hide under a “humble” face and is common in religious contexts. See DeGroat’s book When Narcissism Comes to Church for a Christian therapeutic perspective.
[3] Animal Farm is a fable in the form of a satirical allegory by George Orwell, first published in England on August 17th, 1945. It tells the story of a group of farm animals who rebel against their human farmer, hoping to create a society where the animals can be equal, free, and happy. Ultimately, the rebellion is betrayed, and under the dictatorship of a pig named Napoleon, the farm ends up in a state as bad as it was before.
[4] Keller, Tim. The Meaning of Marriage, Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God.




