Two Words Pastors Seldom Learn
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6–7 (NIV)
As you read this, my wife and I will be on vacation. That sentence still feels strange to write. “Vacation” and “retirement” are words pastors often struggle to fit into our vocabulary. For many of us, ministry has meant being present — always present — no matter what.
Two memories come to mind whenever I think about pastors and time off.
When I was a kid, Reverend Lehn was always there. Always. I don’t know if he ever took vacations, but from my childhood perspective he seemed permanently stationed at the church — faithful, stressed, and never away.
The other memory is fictional, but it stuck with me: the pastor on The Waltons, played by John Ritter. He was the picture of a devoted, ever available minister. (Honorable mention to Father Mulcahy on MASH*.) These images shaped my early understanding of what pastors were supposed to be — endlessly present, endlessly available.
And for the past seven or eight years, I tried to live that way.
It got so intense during my first assignment as a Licensed Local Pastor in Temple that the Board of Ministry finally told me, “You will take two weeks off (or else).” I didn’t want to find out what the “or else” was, so I complied. But even then, stepping away felt wrong, like I was abandoning something.
My wife feels this too. She’s part of our music team and still works a civilian job on top of everything she gives the church. She needs rest every bit as much as I do.
Somewhere along the way, I absorbed the idea that pastors are supposed to always be there.
But you know who is always there?
God.
God doesn’t take Sundays off. God doesn’t get vacation time or PTO. God doesn’t need a substitute preacher. God is present with His people — with all of us — every moment, every day.
And that’s the truth I’ve finally learned to trust: the church is not about me. It’s about God.
It’s about all of us worshiping the One who loves us, serving our community as humble followers of Jesus, and remembering that the God who never rests also commands us to rest. Not because we’re weak, but because we’re human.
Jesus went to the cross to bring us into right relationship with the Maker of the universe. That same God watches over the church while I’m away, while you’re away, and while any of us take the rest we need.
So as you read this, know that I’m resting — and trusting — and grateful. And I hope you find moments this week to rest in God’s presence too.