Your Personality Isn’t a Problem

There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work. Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.
— 1 Cor 12:4–7, NIV

We are all different sorts of people, aren’t we? Some of us are tall and thin, while others are short and stocky; still others are tall and wide or short and petite or some combination in between. If humans exist in so very many body shapes and types, hair colours, eye colours, and facial features, then surely we display a similar variety in the inward life, in personality and temperament, and surely there can be a place for all of us to belong.

Personality typing has become quite a popular thing. It’s a pet hobby of mine, and I have explored many such systems: the Myers-Briggs Typing Inventory, Enneagram, DISC profile, Big Five, StrengthsFinder, Working Genius, Colour Wheel, and so on. They’re fascinating to me. The idea that these systems somehow encapsulate the vast and diverse nature of the human soul is doubly intriguing and terrifying. The categories make simple something that has few words to describe it. How can we describe the human soul? It is nebulous, abstract, and intangible. But by these systems, we begin to put words to the motivations of behaviour, the secrets of the soul, and the desires of the heart.

I’m an introvert. I’m known for advocating for introverts in public spaces, especially in the church. It has long seemed to me that extraverts hold a special place in the eyes of the church, at least on a subconscious level. The “friendly, energetic pastor” is looked upon favourably, while the “quiet, serious pastor” is perceived as aloof or cold. Excluding pastoral staff, even volunteers are looked upon more favourably if they are effusive greeters and welcoming hosts rather than private individuals who stick to the walls or hide behind the coffee bar.

It seems to me also that empathetic, compassionate souls are looked upon as more faithful and true to the gospel than those who are analytical and critical. Jesus told us to love others, didn’t he? So, the very best way to love others must be to befriend them all, bring many meals to those in need, shovel sidewalks, crochet scarves, and participate in every soup kitchen and potluck to the very fullest. Those who weep and pray with others are perceived as holier and more devout than those who remain stoic and calm.

And finally, it seems to me that those who can “hear the Holy Spirit” in prayer and worship are better Christians than those who have not the foggiest idea of what that means but who faithfully spend time in prayer and Scripture nonetheless. Those who do not hear are surely missing something; isn’t it normal for Christians to hear the audible voice of God while in their prayer closet? They pore over the pages of Scripture, longing to know what this voice sounds like, but having no clue of what it means. It’s not tangible and they can’t grasp it; is it even real?

Those who are kind and patient are good Christians.

Those who are brash and direct are not.

Those who smile angelically at all who enter the church building are surely more holy than those who keep to the walls and loiter about the church library.

I may be projecting my experiences. This is entirely possible (and is, in reality, probable). I have often felt inadequate for my introversion and my reticence to show emotion in worship. I have felt pressured to do more and be more for the sake of Christ, even as I have inwardly shuddered at the thought of approaching a single stranger and talking to them about Jesus. Evangelism? No thanks. Hospitality? Nope.

But I love Jesus. And I love his people. Dearly.

And I stand up at the front of my church and preach the goodness of God to them from the Scriptures, and I’m quite good at it. No one would accuse me of introversion or lack of emotion there; it’s a different thing entirely.

Here’s the catch: I spend weeks pondering Scripture before I ever preach on it. I prefer to spend time studying and pondering instead of participating in group events or Sunday morning chitchat (though I have come to dearly love my people and enjoy chatting with every one of them when I get the chance). I prefer the quiet where I hear the voice of God nudge me one way or another (yes, I’m one of the ones who hears the voice of God). But kindness, gentleness, patience, and a smile for every person? Those have come as the result of hard work and practice, and they come at a cost, as my husband can attest.

When I first felt called to ministry, I balked, not because I didn’t feel like I was truly called or that I didn’t have gifts for preaching and teaching, but because I felt like I didn’t fit the idea that I’d had in my head of what “a pastor” should look like. Yes, I’m a woman, but that’s secondary here. I felt inadequate because of my personality and temperament. I felt like I didn’t fit what I thought a pastor should be… which was mostly extraverted, very friendly, and very exuberant.

The church I’m currently at is very introvert friendly, a byproduct of having a highly introverted lead pastor for 20+ years. Quietness doesn’t faze most of them. In fact, we’ve been known as a place that welcomes and makes space for introverts (to the chagrin of the extraverts, who would like more energy and spunk in our worship service). Here’s the thing: we need introverts and extraverts, feelers and thinkers (how else will maintenance get done and tech problems be resolved?), intuitives and sensors, those who are organized and administratively gifted and those who prefer to go with the flow regardless of where it takes them.

This is the body of Christ in all its diversity. If we are the image bearers of God in all our humanity, then we reflect the face of God exactly as we are. Introversion is not a result of the curse in the Garden, nor is the ability to think quickly on your feet and deal with the problem at hand, even if it steps on some toes. Connecting with God in prayer doesn’t happen only in stillness and quiet (though it might, for you), but can happen on a mountaintop, on a sidewalk, or at a fundraising event as you look at the beauty of the people around you.

There are many teachings on personality. Some teachers will say that our personalities are the result of the Fall and our sinful nature. I disagree. I think that our personalities reflect the face of God. True, they can be unhealthy, devious, and self-centred to the core, but that is a distortion of our personalities, not the way in which we were meant to live. That is not what we were created for. Instead, each of us has the potential to reflect God more truly in the ways in which we live and interact with our world—in our personalities. Just as we inhabit a body, we also inhabit a personality, a soul, a heart, and a spirit that make us us.

Your personality reflects the shape of God. Isn’t that amazing?

To those who are quiet and reflective and avoid strangers, you reflect God to the world.

To those who are energetic and rambunctious, you reflect God to the world.

To those who are careful, deliberate, and direct, you reflect God to the world.

To those who connect with even complete strangers, you reflect God to the world.

To those who pay attention to the details of numbers, cleanliness, or administration, you reflect God to the world.

To those who plan big events and round up a dozen volunteers to each do their part, you reflect God to the world.

To those who hear God audibly (or more like a ghostly nudge), you reflect God to the world.

To those who have no idea what that means but can persevere through a marathon, perform at a concert, or manage a retail store, you reflect God to the world.

Shall I continue? Wherever you are, whoever you are, you reflect God to the world. Your personality and temperament—whether calm or fiery, or a leader of leaders or a follower of leaders—is a reflection of God. And there is a place for you exactly where you are. If you haven’t found it yet, don’t give up. Perhaps you can make space for others who are just like you.


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The Inner Cathedral