My Husband, My Pastor

The man who was my Pastor from the time I was age 10 until I became a member at my husband's church had a very very special place in my heart. My Dad started my home church. (Yep, a layman up and started a new LCMS church in a newly developing area of where I was growing up and my Dad put a lot of his hard earned money and his time into securing a place for the members to have Divine service led by local retired LCMS pastors and when that wasn't possible he and his best friend and a few other men took turns leading prayer services.) And when we finally called our first Pastor we still did not have a building of our own so my Dad gave our Pastor a corner office in his law firm. There they began a friendship that was so close that 7 years later when my Dad was killed in his plane crash my Pastor cried through his entire sermon that weekend.

My Pastor was like a second Dad to me. And that's a beautiful thing for a Pastor to be because it was a very wonderful picture of Christ. So when my husband was ordained and a letter requesting a transfer of membership from my home church to my husband's church was sent, it made me both laugh and cry when my Pastor send my husband-pastor a letter telling him he most certainly could NOT have my membership because it had been so long since I had attended church that he was not certain of my standing any longer. Of course this cover letter was a joke reminiscent of the humor my Dad and Pastor often concocted and shared with one another and the second letter, affirming my transfer of membership, was the one that made me cry as he shared how hard it was to hand me off to someone else.

But my second Pastor picked up right where my first Pastor left off. And where I at first had some very awkward feelings about how I was to approach my husband for pastoral care, and I struggled trying to navigate the waters of what to do for private confession, I now cannot imagine having anyone other than my husband provide my pastoral care.* I feel like I am the only one to do this and have been advised quite sternly by other pastors wives that I am making a grave mistake to do this, but my husband is my Father Confessor. I have not confessed to another pastor formally (I say formally because several best friends of mine who happen to be a pastor's wife have sat through a lament/confession of mine or so while I visited with her and her husband. And of course any good Pastor cannot help but step in and perform pastoral duties if he is in such a hearing.) since before my husband was ordained.* At first it was out of necessity. We lived in a very remote area and it felt too awkward trying to find another pastor, especially one so far away. But then when we moved to the city I realized that the thought of going to another Father Confessor felt like cheating on my Pastor. He is my Pastor. I am his sheep. I trust his voice, I search him out for guidance, and I look to him as my representative of Christ and His love on this earth.

Some argue that it is not appropriate to confess to your husband, especially if there are sins to confess that involve the 6th commandment. I confess everything to my husband pastor. And he forgives everything. And as my husband he should know everything anyways. And if we were to ever need outside help due to my sins or his, we would find another Father Confessor for both of us to see together.

I have asked my husband several times over the years if he continues to be OK with me confessing to him. Of course he too is but a man and if he ever had a struggle with it, I would happily go where he led me for pastoral care.

*There has been but one exception to this in his time as my Pastor. It happened when we lost Anastasia. One of the first nights after we found out she had died I was shut up in the nursery upstairs spiraling down into a pit of despair and my husband Pastor tried to come up and offer pastoral care. I yelled at him while sobbing and made him leave. What I yelled was that how DARE he try to come in and offer pastoral care when his CHILD had just DIED. He was supposed to be as angry and hurting as I was. For him to come in all calm and try to offer care, well, it created for the first time this great divide and suddenly it was like he was more my pastor than my husband and I couldn't take it. It left me EVEN MORE alone in an already intoxicatingly isolating process. So I sought out those amazing best friend pastor's wife types and as soon as we found out we were pregnant with Amadeus I demanded a Pastor to take my husband's place if something were to happen again. I am so thankful we did and I have been so thankful to the Pastor who has stepped in to care for my husband and I.