I have a coffee addiction. Seriously. Before my feet hit the floor in the morning my body is telling me what to do. It’s not a pleasant request, but rather an ugly bully screaming in my ear.

Drink coffee!

If I press snooze and decide the coffee tyrant doesn’t get an immediate hearing, he gets loud. If I’m in the middle of a beautiful dream, he kicks open the R.E.M. door and kills any sleep joy I may be experiencing.

Coffee rules me.

Most mornings I don’t even think about arguing with that voice in my head. I jump up, grind the beans, soak them in a hot bath, and then lovingly drink my magic elixir that somehow makes me an acceptable human being before 7 a.m. Truth be told, this is a happy addiction.

The thing is, not all addictions are as acceptable as this one. In fact, like many other pastors, I have another addiction. And like so many pastors, it can go unchecked for years. No, not meth or opioids. Something equally as serious though. Pastors have an addiction that rarely gets addressed; an addiction that has the potential to shipwreck their faith; one that can ruin a marriage; one that isn’t hidden in the dark, but is paraded out on Sunday mornings.

Pastors have church addiction. In other words:

Pastors are addicted to people’s approval. Most pastors like people. In fact, people are one of the reasons we became pastors. And generally, most people like pastors. But when pastors get the taste of applause, we are hooked for life. We will go to great lengths to keep the feeling of being exalted. We will start by simply asking if people like our sermons. This is the gateway drug of praise. Its a pretty decent buzz, but it doesn’t last very long. Then we move on to the harder stuff cause a simple “Good job, pastor” isn’t really doing it for us. This addiction then leads to social media rants and the gathering of pastoral cheerleaders. If left unchecked, we’ve got the shakes pretty badly by Saturday night. This leads to the hard stuff—altering the less palatable elements of the gospel so as to garner smiling faces and greater approval.

Pastors are addicted to crowds. A pastor’s identity is often driven by noses and nickels (how many people and how big the budget). Pastors come by this naturally, of course, because they are still people. And most individuals find their value in personal achievement. The problem with this obvious idolatry is that our achievement becomes our people. And that means we no longer see people as image bearers with innate value. We see them as commodities and dollar signs to use and spend as we see fit. Crowds become the measuring stick and the means to an unhealthy end. When the crowds swell, we get high.

Pastors are addicted to change. The most recent statistics tell us that a senior pastor’s tenure at a local church is under four years. Four years. Enough time to unpack his books, learn about 100 people’s names, preach his best sermons, and update his resume. And per the evangelical trend, he then moves on. Pastors don’t know how to stay. They are addicted to change. I’m not throwing rocks here—any dummy can read the numbers. This addiction has much to do with the greater need for people’s approval and the unchecked addiction to crowds. Unsurprisingly, one addiction feeds another.

Pastors need to get free from this unhealthy cycle. I wish Barbara Bush’s heartfelt “Just Say No!” campaign was enough for our fractured, pastoral souls. And there isn’t really a rehab for church addiction, is there?

What are pastors to do?

I contend that pastors need other pastors. Alcoholics Anonymous groups have meetings every week around the country. “Hi, my name is ____________, and I’m an alcoholic.” Pastors need meetings just like them. Pastors need to come clean. Pastors need others who know them and can see through their lies. Pastors need others to call them to gospel sobriety. Pastors need to return to wholeness and once again find Jesus as the treasure of their lives.