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 September 15, 2025
A New Ecclesia Network Benefit! 
By By Jim Pace September 15, 2025
In the aftermath of Charlie Kirk’s shooting, social media has been filled with perspectives, as is typically the case. I am reluctant to add mine as there seems to be no lack one way or the other. To be clear, this is not just about Charlie Kirk, this is about violence across the board. I did not feel led to write this because it was Charlie Kirk specifically, but rather another in a long and winding line of acts of violence, that my ministering at Va. Tech gives me a bit of personal experience with. But as I have just finished teaching two classes on Christian Ethics, and as I was encountering again the spread of responses from my Christian sisters and brothers, I felt led to look at this event through that lens. Ethics, at its base, seeks to answer the question, “What is better or worse? Good or bad?” As a follower of Jesus, this is what seems right to me… 1. We never celebrate harm. Whatever our disagreements, rejoicing at a shooting violates the bedrock claim that every person bears the imago Dei (Gen 1:27). Scripture is explicit: “Do not rejoice when your enemy falls” (Prov 24:17); “Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you” (Matt 5:44); “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Rom 12:21). I don’t love blasting verses like this, but you cannot get away from them if you are reading the scriptures. 2. Moral responsibility sits with the shooter—full stop . Saying “his rhetoric got him shot” smuggles in a just-world logic that excuses violence. As a contextual theologian, I have an enormous amount of respect for the impact our various narratives have in shaping our understandings of the world around us. They are inescapable. But that is not what I am talking about here. Ideas can be wrong, harmful, or worth opposing vigorously, but vigilante ‘payback’ is never a Christian category. My primary gig is that of a consultant for churches and non-profits. Today, in my meetings and among friends, I have heard some variation of “He got what he deserved,” and “I vote for some very public justice for the shooter.” Both of these views speak of revenge; the follower of Jesus is called to lay these down as our Messiah did. Not asked to, told to. 3. Grief and outrage about gun violence are legitimate; schadenfreude is not . Channel the pain toward nonviolent, concrete action (policy advocacy, community intervention, survivor support), not dehumanization. Here are four thinkers who have had a profound impact on the Christian ethic I try to work out in this world. As I share them, three things are worthy of mention. One, I certainly do not claim to follow their guidance perfectly, and at times I do not even do it well, but they have all given me what seems like a Jesus-centered and faith-filled direction to move in. Second, I do not claim to speak for them in this particular matter; I am merely showing how my ethical lens has been formed. Third, clearly I am not dealing with all the components of our response to these types of violence, this is not a comprehensive treatment, merely the reflections in the moment. Stanley Hauerwas : “Christian nonviolence is not a strategy to rid the world of violence.” It’s part of following Jesus, not a tactic we drop when it’s inconvenient. Stanley Hauerwas, Walking with God in a Fragile World, by James Langford, editor, Leroy S. Rouner, editor N. T. Wright : “The call of the gospel is for the church to implement the victory of God in the world through suffering love.” Simply Good News: Why the Gospel Is News and What Makes It Good. In other words, we answer evil without mirroring it. David Fitch : Our culture runs on an “enemy-making” dynamic; even “the political rally… depends on the making of an enemy. Don’t let that train your soul.” The Church of Us vs. Them. Sarah Coakley : Contemplation forms resistance, not passivity. For Coakley, sustained prayer trains perception and courage so Christians can resist abuse and give voice against violence (it’s not quietism). “Contemplation, if it is working aright, is precisely that which gives courage to resist abuse, to give voice against violence.” Sarah Coakley, God, Sexuality, and the Self. Coakley would say that far too often we react before we reflect. This is the problem that Fitch is getting at in much of his writing, that our culture actually runs on antagonisms, the conflict between us. We need to find a better way.