Is Charles Spurgeon the Prince of Burnout?

I have greeted almost every word from the pen of Charles Spurgeon with wholesale affirmation. That’s why, when I read the following from him on his preaching regimen, my trauma-informed mind kept the score:

If I have [been physically or emotionally harmed by my work], I am glad of it. I would do the same again. If I had fifty constitutions I would rejoice to break them down in the service of the Lord Jesus Christ . . . We find ourselves able to preach ten or twelve times a week, and we find we are stronger for it.[1]

Could this really be true? Most pastors I know find one or two sermons a week combined with normal parish ministry to be sufficient to tax them to the brink, to say nothing of preaching a dozen times. In fact, if you are a Christian ministry worker, I suspect you just recoiled after reading that quote. After the toil and trauma of the last two years, sometimes it seems enough to just stay in ministry.

What then do we make of Spurgeon’s comment? Is he taunting us with his superior energy reserves? Has he received some special gifting that we haven’t? And perhaps more importantly, does Jesus call us to self-destruction and burnout for the sake of his name?

Finding the Real Spurgeon

Answering these questions in the negative is more complicated than it may seem. For one, Christ’s dominion over his children is complete, and we are not allowed to withhold anything from him should he demand it. Christian experience also teaches us that following Christ may be excruciating. Paul, after all, was “afflicted in every way . . . struck down . . . [and] always carrying in the body the death of Jesus” while “being poured out as a drink offering.”[2] And what of the example of Christ’s own suffering? “A servant is not greater than his master.”[3]

But we should be kinder to the prince of preachers. The thing about analyzing the thought of someone who wrote so prolifically is that single quotes never tell the whole story. In his Lectures to My Students, Spurgeon warns of the perils of overexertion:

To sit long in one posture, poring over a book, or driving a quill, is itself a taxing of nature; but add to this a badly ventilated chamber, a body which has long been without muscular exercise, and a heart burdened with many cares, and we have all the elements for preparing a seething cauldron of despair.[4] 

The remedy, Spurgeon suggests, for such burnout and despair is rest:

A day’s breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours’ ramble in the beech woods’ umbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are now but half alive . . . For lack of opportunity, or inclination, these great remedies are neglected, and the student becomes a self-immolated victim.[5]

So which quote comes from the real Charles Spurgeon? Is the Christian life about self-destruction or a walk in the woods? 

Maybe there are two Spurgeons. I suspect the first quote is a product of a younger and greener Spurgeon. While his sentiment of complete subjection to Christ is accurate, it also has all the swagger of a youthful minister who has yet to be impacted by the weight of ministry. Perhaps the second quote comes from a wiser Spurgeon warning his students not to follow his own example of burnout and poor health.[6] 

Speaking to the Younger Spurgeon

Being a counselor, it’s hard not to want to say something to the younger Spurgeon. If I could, I might say that life (and ministry) is seasonal. Life is a marathon where one crawls, walks, runs, and sprints in no particular order. Sometimes God calls us outside our abilities for a season, and sometimes he lets us walk through the woods in peace. Both seasons find their expression in scripture, with rest proving to be a requirement for living God’s way in God’s world. The timing of our level of toil is his and is best discerned through seeking him in prayer and scripture study as well as in the practical wisdom of our communities, families, physician, or counselor.  

I think I would also tell him that if you find yourself always sprinting in the marathon of life, the problem either is or isn’t you. As Spurgeon hinted, much of our burnout may be self-created. Frequent culprits include unhealthy expectations, perfectionism, poor boundaries, personal idols of success, people-pleasing, or inadequate theologies of the body and time.[7] But the conditions for burnout can come from outside of us as well. Sometimes, our life or work really can be unsustainable for reasons beyond our control. Spurgeon also suffered from depression, which is a “non-identical twin” of burnout.[8] And it’s important to remember that symptoms associated with burnout may actually be due to harm done to us, including inhabiting a dysfunctional system, experiencing abuse, or trauma (both primary and secondary). In these latter cases, safely seeking appropriate help is important.

Learning from Spurgeon

But in the end, I confess it is Spurgeon who still teaches me. For this piece was written by a hypocrite who burns himself out all the time. If I’m honest, I think what bothered me the most about that first quote was a fear that Jesus might be content to crush me and my fifty constitutions. That may be my own bent toward self-destruction is close to the heart of our Lord. And that’s a mindset that will cause one to run and never stop. But here I find that my faith is small. Even if Spurgeon could not quite follow his own advice, he certainly knew where to point us:

What is the practical result of making yourself, as one man, responsible for the work of twenty men? Will you do any more? Will you do it any better? I saw a horse, this morning, which was pulling at a three-horse load. How he tugged! How he strained himself! I thought to myself, “There is a good horse being ruined. His master ought to take off part of his load, or else put more horses to pull with him.” Does our Lord and Master treat us in this fashion? No; we overload ourselves.[9]

Or as the Spirit says through Isaiah: 

I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite. For I will not contend forever, nor will I always be angry; for the spirit would grow faint before me, and the breath of life that I made.[10]

Spurgeon died prematurely at fifty-seven, and it’s possible his own lack of rest contributed to his premature death. Apparently, in this instance, he did not practice what he preached.[11] Perhaps if Spurgeon took a few more walks in the woods, we would have two decades more of his sermons and writings. And perhaps if I do as Spurgeon said and not as he did I will rest in the reality Isaiah found and find some margin as I run the race of life.