I am aware that the categories of introvert and extrovert are not described or even hinted at within the pages of the Bible. My understanding is that the terms arose from the mind of Carl Jung and were popularized through his teachings—teachings that oppose Scripture in a host of ways.
Yet there is still something to the idea of introversion and extroversion—that some people are more naturally outgoing and talkative while others are more naturally inward and reserved. This simply describes what we have all observed, that some are more affable than others and that while some are refreshed and energized by being with people, others are refreshed and energized by being apart from people. Through some combination of nature and nurture, that’s just how we are.
Personally, I fall well within the ranks of the introverts. I genuinely love people and enjoy being around them. However, being surrounded by others and immersed in conversation eventually begins to drain me and I find refreshment in solitude. That may be as simple as ducking out of an activity for five minutes to do a bit of an internal reset or it may be as complicated as taking week-long vacations with no one but my family. While some people are drained by solitude and invigorated by company, I tend to be invigorated by solitude and drained by company.
There was a time in my life when I allowed introversion to provide a ready excuse when I did not want to do something—when I did not want to accept an invitation, attend a gathering, or meet a new person. After all, why would I do something that clashes with my personality, that drains me, and that I can find exceedingly difficult?
However, I encountered a challenge when I began to consider church leadership and the character of a man who aspires to be an elder—character that is meant to exemplify what God expects of all Christians. As I studied those qualifications and passed through the early stages of examination, it became clear that I was failing to fulfill some of them. If I was going to be hospitable, if I was going to faithfully instruct others in the Word, and if I was going to know and be known by the people I would lead and love, I would need to address some of my natural tendencies. While being a leader in a church would not require a personality transplant, it would require a willingness to deny some of my own comfort.
I decided at that time to commit to being a dutiful introvert. A dutiful introvert is one who acknowledges and accepts what is true about himself but also determines he will never let it interfere with his duty before the Lord. He will not pretend he is an extrovert or stop valuing times of solitude, but he will also not allow his personality to excuse any failure to fulfill the opportunities God presents to him.
I have a duty of love to greet visitors at my church and have no right to allow my introversion to keep me from making another person feel seen, acknowledged, and welcomed. So I will greet others.
I have a duty of hospitality to those who would benefit from it and have no right to allow my introversion to keep me from opening my life and opening my home. So I will invite others in.
I have a duty of care to shepherd the people of my church and have no right to allow my introversion to keep me from getting to know them so I can tend to their spiritual needs. So I will create and accept opportunities to begin new relationships and foster existing ones.
Introversion can never be allowed to negate duty or justify a failure to love.
In short, introversion can never be allowed to negate duty or justify a failure to love. This is the commitment of a dutiful introvert.
It has not always been easy and I haven’t always been successful, but I have observed something interesting along the way: The more I have forced myself to be dutiful, the easier duty has become. The more I have pushed to deny myself, the more joy I’ve found in self-denial. I have not become an extrovert—not nearly!—but neither is that my desire or goal. I have remained who I am, but with duty added to it—duty and the delight that flows from it.
