Thoughts and Reflections from Sabbatical- J.R. Briggs
J.R. Briggs
December 10, 2015

A gift, a tool, a mirror and an emotional colonoscopy.

Oftentimes this is the response I give when people ask me how my three-month sabbatical was this past fall.

When my wife and I, along with some faith-filled friends, started our church seven years ago we were excited, thrilled, expectant and scared out of our minds. It’s been an amazing, exhausting, exhilarating, encouraging, terrifying, thrilling, discouraging journey all in one. (As I have talked to several dozen church planters we all seem to describe the process in eerily similar ways.) But seven years of high-adrenaline, high-stakes, full-schedule, long to-do list, significant decision-making ministry can take its toll on a leader’s soul.

When the elders of our church came to us several months ago to offer this gift of time to rest, reflect and be refreshed, we were honored. They did not believe I was burned out; they simply wanted us to rest after seven years. We were grateful that they truly wanted to care for us to make sure our souls, our marriage, our family – and our church – were healthy in the long run. During the three months I reflected a lot (saw a counselor, spent time with my life coach, journaled daily), engaged in life-giving activity (took several out of state trips, visited several major and minor league baseball parks, made lasting family memories) and engaged in life-giving non-activity (read a lot, ate good food, delighted in nature and took naps).

During my time, the sabbatical taught me many things – too much to communicate all of them in the space provided – but here are four of the more significant lessons I learned.

[1] I am responsible to the people in my church, but I am not responsible for them. This phrase (something my friend Bob Hyatt first shared with me) has stuck me with the past few years. Sabbatical helped me see that I have a role in the lives of people, but not an ultimate role. One friend, a pastor in Texas, offered me a wise piece of advice: “You can carry people’s dirty clothes to the laundromat, but you cannot wash them clean. That’s someone else’s job.” I knew this, but I needed one, giant reminder of something crucial to the essence of ministry: our church is Christ’s church, not mine. I play a part, but the part I play is not the primary role.

[2] Rest is not just a good idea; it’s absolutely crucial in the life of a kingdom leader. Additionally, I came to see that the world needs more rested leaders. Before the sabbatical I thought I maintained healthy rhythms and I didn’t believe I was that tired or worn out. Boy, was I wrong. Looking back, I would call the first month of the sabbatical a “detox.” Even the healthiest of pastors are addicted to adrenaline – and I was one of those adrenaline addicts. The most disconcerting part is that pastors don’t even realize this addiction because adrenaline has become so normalized in our schedules. When sabbatical started and I unhooked from the stimuli (turned my phone off for a large portion of each day, only checked email once a week and completely signed out of all social media for three months) I had an “adrenaline crash.” Fortunately, I was not burned out, but I was depleted – much more than I ever imagined. I slept well each night – in addition to an almost-daily two-hour afternoon nap those first three weeks. While the post-sabbatical schedule doesn’t allow for daily afternoon naps, I’ve come to grips with how I’ve become lazy with my sleep and rest standards for my life. Disciplining myself to go to bed earlier than before has become a spiritual discipline as I realize that sometimes the most spiritual thing I can do today is to be in bed before midnight.

[3] Sabbatical is like taking an exam. When pastors step away from an extended period of time, it’s not just good for the leader and his/her family. It’s good for the church as a whole. It gives opportunities for people in the community to step up and use their gifts further, deeper and in a more focused and evident way.

One of the most meaningful comments from one of our leaders upon my return was when he said, “We missed you… but we didn’t miss you.” I knew what he meant by his tone and body language: we missed having you around relationally, but the church did well in your absence. I was thrilled to hear this. Had the church fallen apart, panicked or looked around wondering what to do for the next three months, it would not be a poor reflection of them; rather, it would have been a poor reflection of their leader. By God’s grace, he has provided our church with leaders who are faith-filled, confident, competent, flexible, patient and courageous. God has called me over the past seven years

[4] The Church of Jesus Christ is broad, vast, varied and worships in many different expressions. One of the unique parts of sabbatical was being free from responsibility on Sunday mornings. My family and I were able to visit about a dozen different churches (both local and out of state). It reminded me again what it is like to be a first time guest at a church. It also allowed us to be fully present with God, not having to worry about what is next in the service or if the logistical elements of a gathering will be tied up prior to the Call to Worship. It was refreshing and life giving and allowed our family to see what God’s Church is doing in various expressions. We all walked away each Sunday morning with a greater appreciation and expanding view of the Kingdom of God in it’s contextualized local expressions scattered all over the country. We knew this in theory, but it was great to experience it first-hand.

I am excited to be back in the saddle, feeling rested and excited for this next phase of ministry at our church. I highly recommend sabbaticals for pastors and church planters. I want to encourage church planters, pastors and elders to talk openly and honestly about what a culture of healthy rhythms of work and rest looks like in their particular context. I recommend sabbaticals, not simply because it sounds like a good idea (I mean, who wouldn’t want some extended time off?) but because by doing so you will see things and learn things you can’t learn when you are maxed out, busy and distracted. Your church will learn how to mature and grow without becoming unhealthily dependent upon the pastor. Additionally, it models for the community a culture of rest and life-giving rhythm in what it means to live freely and lightly as kingdom agents.

By Bob Hyatt • October 7, 2026
“When God works in us nothing is useless, and nothing is spared.” - Jeannine Brown, Carla Dahl and Wendy Corbin Reuschling, Becoming Whole and Holy “There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment.” - Alan Redpath Here's something I've noticed about people as they get older: they tend to go one of two ways. They either get sweeter with age or they get crankier. They grow wiser and more like Jesus, or they grow bitter and more like the worst version of themselves. That's because life is formation. Everything we do and everything we go through shapes us one way or the other, mostly depending on how we respond to what happens to us, whether it's extraordinary or completely ordinary. Ministry works the same way. I've watched leaders come out of nearly identical trials in completely different shape. Some come out stronger. Others come out deeply wounded, discouraged, and ready to quit. The difference usually comes down to where they see God in the middle of the struggle, absent or present, and what questions they ask about it. Some ask, "God, why is this happening to me?" Others ask, "God, what could you want to form in me through this?" Both views of God will shape us, and so will both questions. They just shape us in very different directions. In my experience, the most common sin in church leadership is an obsession with numbers and results, paired with neglect of our own souls. On top of that, we rarely stop to notice how those numbers and results, and how ministry itself, are shaping us. So here's my suggestion: stop working so hard to develop your ministry and start noticing that your ministry is developing you. How you handle the realities of church leadership will determine not only what your church becomes but what you become. Leadership and ministry will form you. The only question is: into what? One tool God uses: the fishbowl Some people hesitate to become a pastor because it opens them up to scrutiny, and now and then to outright criticism. When I was a young leader, I hated the "fishbowl effect" of ministry. Everyone was watching me, and my mistakes seemed to count for a lot more than anyone else's. It felt deeply unfair that flaws that wouldn't even register at most people's jobs could cost me my job, my reputation, and my community. Never mind that maybe it bothered me so much because I had such a generous supply of those flaws. After years of living under the steady gaze of critics and cranks, I see the fishbowl differently. These days I actually welcome it. Richard Baxter, a Puritan pastor in the 1600s, put it this way: “While you are as lights set upon a hill, think not to lie hid... do your work as those that remember that the world looks on them... ready to make the worst of all... and to make faults where they cannot find them.”[1] Baxter understood that anyone who calls others to live like Jesus is going to get called out when they don't. His advice? Live like the world is watching, because it is. Some people in your life are ready to yell "Hypocrite!" at the first opportunity, to point out failings they share themselves, and, as Baxter says, even to invent faults when they can't find real ones. And Baxter's fishbowl had a few neighbors peering over the fence. Ours has a livestream, a comment section, and someone screenshotting the announcements. But Baxter goes further. He says we should be glad about it: “As you take yourselves for the lights of the churches, you may expect that men's eyes will be upon you. If other men may sin without observation, so cannot you. And you should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you, and so many ready to tell you of your faults; and thus have greater helps than others, at least for restraining you from sin. Though they may do it with a malicious mind, yet you have the advantage of it.” As a Pastor, you have more eyes on you and more people paying attention to how you live. That means you have more help than most in living well and avoiding sin. What some people mean for evil, God means for your good (Genesis 50:20). What looks like a downside of ministry turns out to be a path to maturity, to formation. In practical terms, living your life in front of others pushes you to do what you already know you should do. And it often keeps you out of things you might slide into if nobody were watching. One important caveat: embracing accountability isn't the same as tolerating abuse. Healthy scrutiny sharpens you. A congregant who attacks your spouse or treats your kids like church property is a different problem, and it calls for boundaries, not gratitude. Let's be clear, though: the fishbowl isn't enough on its own. What we're really after is internal: character, a changed heart. But knowing we're living out loud in front of a watching church and a watching world gives us structure, and that structure can help us build the habits and rhythms of holiness we want. As we try to let the heart and character of Christ take deeper root in us, we have the advantage of lots of eyes around us "encouraging" us to stay on the straight and narrow. My sense is that people who embrace this find that, over time, what starts on the outside moves more and more to the inside. Slowly, the choices we make because others are watching become, through habit, real character. Because I know people are watching, I think twice about what I say in public, what I scroll past on my phone, and how I talk to my kids at church or out on the sidewalk in front of the neighbors. More and more, those choices, first made because of an audience, become part of who I am. That's especially true when I treat those moments as kairos [2] moments: times when God breaks in and uses my awareness of a watching world to show me the character He wants to form in me and the choices He'd like me to make. But what if we don't embrace it? What about those who get shipwrecked by moral failure, character flaws, and private sins gone public? People who resent the fishbowl of ministry and the Christian life often end up living one way in public and another in private. It's as if their anger at being scrutinized pushes them into a divided life: they'll play by the rules in public but insist on their own rules in private. Frustrated with the audience around them, so eager to find fault, they forget the true Audience they live before. And as we've all seen from too many spectacular crash-and-burns, the fallout is often devastating. Families, churches, and the reputation of the whole Church take serious damage. Pastors, recognize that your formation is happening, one way or another… and make peace with the fishbowl. It's going to be there whether you like it or not. If you embrace it, you may find it spurring you on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24) and keeping you clear of the sins that have taken down so many in ministry before you. “You should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you.” Let the Holy Spirit use your public life, and every eye watching it, to shape and form you. The fishbowl and the formation of a life in ministry are coming either way. Let them help answer the question: into what? To further explore your own formation through ministry, join us at the Multiply Summit with special guest Rich Villodas this coming February in the Washington, D.C. area! Adapted from Eldership and the Mission of God by Bob Hyatt and J.R. Briggs. [1] Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor, London, 1657, p. 21. [2] Kairos is one of the Greek words for time, but it's different from chronos. Chronos is linear, calendar time. Kairos refers to significant moments full of possibility. Here, it means those times when God steps into chronos.
By Bob Hyatt • April 13, 2026
Here's a message from Ecclesia Pastor Aaron Graham