When God puts his foot in the door

Pastoral care is a matter close to his heart. What is missing? What is absolutely necessary? What is possible? Here is part two of our interview series with Chief Apostle Helge Mutschler.

You describe pastoral care as a pillar of our Church. Does this pillar have cracks in it?

Yes, this pillar has some cracks. And I can even tell you where. It is not where the appointments are poorly coordinated, but where there is no longer any relationship at all. Relationships come into being on the basis of three things: interest, empathy, authenticity. All three are necessary and none of them can be replaced. If I am not truly interested in others—if I do not actually care how they are doing, or care about what is bothering them, or what causes them to suffer—then there are cracks. And you cannot order anyone to do that. You cannot make someone take an interest in his or her brother. Pastoral care must not become an obligation. What I want is for pastoral care to become a genuine desire.

How can this desire for pastoral care become a reality in practice?

In the circle of the District Apostles, we are currently working on a document concerning this topic. It is expressly not intended to be a set of rules. Rather, it aims to describe a vision—because I am convinced that pastoral care is not just some burdensome task to be checked off a list. It is about cultivating relationships. And relationships are what heaven is all about. Once people begin to grasp this, they will no longer do it out of obligation. They will do it because it is beautiful. That is precisely what we want to highlight—not a new programme, but an invitation.

And I will start with myself. My pastoral care district consists of the District Apostles—them, their wives, and their families. Spread across every continent. It is probably one of the most logistically challenging pastoral care districts in the world (laughs), but that is precisely why I have to do it. It is one thing to talk about pastoral care, but you actually have to experience it.

You once spoke about the three yeses: yes to God, yes to one’s neighbour, and yes to oneself. In what situations do you see people struggling with that third yes in particular?

Everywhere. I have yet to meet anyone who finds that third yes easy. After all, we live in a world where we are constantly comparing ourselves to others—a colleague’s career, our neighbours’ house, the seemingly perfect lives of others on social media. Or simply our own ideal image, and we never really manage to live up to that. That doesn’t produce a yes. At best, it yields a tired “Oh, well”. We always seem to find ourselves lacking—we are too slow, too imperfect.

Your advice?

There is no point in trying to talk myself into saying yes to myself. The key is not my own yes—after all, this is something I might not even be capable of doing. The key is God’s yes to me. He spoke it long ago. Before I ever asked. Long before I ever achieved anything. Before I even existed. His yes stands at the beginning, not at the end. This yes is not to affirm the person I would like to be—it affirms the person I already am. He looks at me and He sees everything—down to the most hidden recesses of my soul. And He remains benevolent. He continues to affirm me.

Once I understand this, everything changes. Then I will no longer feel the need to compare myself to others. Not because I suddenly begin to think I am good enough, but because God has already said yes. This is how my yes to God comes about. Not as an advance payment, but as a response. And so this yes brings me to the next step, because I now see Him in the same light in which I am seen. And in the end, I might even arrive at the point where I can say yes to myself.

You once spoke very openly about how, during a difficult period in your life, you reproached God and drifted away from Him inwardly. What advice would you give to someone in that situation?

I would say: “Go ahead and voice your grievances to Him. But keep in touch. God isn’t going to run away from you, even if you don’t agree with Him.” And I am not just saying this in theory. I have experienced it myself. I did not agree. And yet, I realised: He was not going anywhere. He kept His “foot in the door”. No matter what I did—He was still there. I found Him stubborn. More stubborn than I am—and that is saying something (laughs)!

At some point, I began to realise that this is precisely where the strength lies: in the fact that He does not leave, that He can handle it when I reproach Him, that He stays even when I turn away. And then came a moment—sooner than I had expected—when I started to look more closely at that foot in the door. Just the foot. That was all I could manage at first. But from the foot, my gaze travelled upward. Eventually, I was able to turn around fully. I was able to look up again. And there I stood, mouth agape, marvelling at His stature. So stay connected! Even if all you can do at first is rail against Him. Even if all you can do is stare at Him like a child sitting defiantly on the floor.

How can the Church support people in such situations?

That is what pastoral care is for. It is all about having someone who is simply there for you, without immediately trying to provide all the answers. After all, sometimes that is enough: for someone to stay while you are still full of doubt. That is exactly what God does, too.

The next part of the interview is planned for 22 October. And you can go back to the first instalment here: “And suddenly I was alone at the altar—but not completely”.

Photos: NAK Westdeutschland