“You only work one day a week!” Clergy hear it all the time. The people who say it think they’re being original. They’re not. Being a vicar is an enormous privilege, but it is also hard work and the clergy can pay a heavy emotional price.

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So when I read that the Rev Andy Thewlis in Wiltshire had written a strongly worded letter to his congregation for what he perceived as their lack of warmth – a letter for which he has since issued an apology – I wasn’t remotely surprised. He said his enthusiasm had been sapped by “grumbling and disunity”, also complaining about “arrogant gossips” and “criticism and negativity”. It “drains energy”, he said. Every case is different. But all clergy will recognise something of this.

The demands are many. A typical day for a member of the clergy begins with morning prayer, reading from the Bible and mentioning to God the needs of the whole community. They can then find themselves going from a lively school assembly to a visit to a bereaved parishioner to plan a funeral service. They may then attend a meeting to discuss repair works to a listed building, take a communion service in an old people’s home, liaise with organists to choose next month’s liturgical music, report a potential safeguarding concern, and in the evening chair a meeting of the parochial church council. No day is quite the same, which is one of the great things about being a vicar. But a schedule requiring such mental, spiritual and emotional agility can take its toll.

One of the things that is sometimes forgotten is that vicars are (or should be) theologians. It isn’t good enough for the vicar simply to have his or her opinions about God and the world. Theology is a serious academic discipline. So what the vicar says about God has to be doctrinally defensible. But it also has to be kind and accessible. Sometimes that seems like a tall order, which means tired clergy either retreat into well-worn platitudes or become regarded as ivory-tower intellectuals in a society increasingly suspicious of experts. It is exciting to be a person of study and prayer in a community, pointing to God and the possibility of new creation in an often weary world. It is also incredibly draining, and sometimes the pressure becomes a bit too much.

I don’t know the specifics of what made Thewlis write the letter to his congregation. But all the clergy I have spoken to know how it feels to want to write that sort of letter. In particular, he says he perceived a lack of warmth among the people he served. That can be very painful for the clergy, who have often moved significant distances to live in a community they don’t know very well, to do a hard job with a lot of public exposure. It doesn’t take more than a few people who are adept at finding fault, or who resent a new person in their community exercising leadership and making decisions, to feel vulnerable and isolated. A throwaway unkind comment or a hastily written angry email can eat away at a parish priest for days.

When I was in parish ministry I was very fortunate in many ways. I was able to work with some very gifted laypeople. But even when things are good, a vicar is aware of all the things that aren’t. Someone just out of hospital still needs visiting. The parish share, the money parishes send to the diocese to pay for ministry costs, has to be raised. A significant person in the congregation is cross because he doesn’t think he was consulted when he should have been. The Sunday school needs a new leader. Numbers at Sunday worship seem to be down. It all adds up.

Jesus said his followers should turn the other cheek. Clergy often have to do so. But that doesn’t mean wrongdoing should never be confronted. Sometimes it is absolutely right to name what is wrong, so that something can be done about it.

One clergy colleague, who happens to be gay, found she was being accused by local gossips of having an affair with a (married) male member of her congregation. Should she have let it go? I don’t think so.

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In times of austerity, which affects the Church of England just as much as any other body, we may not have the resources to address every problem as well as we’d like to. But sometimes saying there is a problem is an important first step. Thewlis has said he recognises the letter he sent his parishioners was inappropriate. But spare a thought, and perhaps a prayer, for the clergy who even now find the cursor hovering over the “send” button. There are more of them than you might think.

• The Rev Liam Beadle is an Anglican priest. He has ministered in north London and West Yorkshire, and lives in Bradford