Killing Pastors (And Calling it Faithfulness)

You know that moment in the parking lot before service?

When you sit in your car for an extra thirty seconds, taking that breath, forcing the smile, putting on the face that says you've got it all together—even though you're one more crisis away from never coming back?

You think that's just you. It's not.

According to Barna Group research, 91% of us have experienced burnout. Not "felt tired." Burnout. The kind that makes you question whether God actually called you to this or whether you've been lying to yourself for years.

But here's the part nobody wants to talk about: We did this to ourselves.

Not the devil. Not "the culture." Not the unrealistic demands of modern ministry.

Us.

We built systems that devour people and called it "the cost of leadership." We praised self-destruction and labeled it "sacrifice." We watched our brothers and sisters gain fifty pounds, lose their marriages, medicate their pain with porn—and we said nothing.

Or worse, we told them to pray harder.

We created an entire ecclesial machine that runs on our bodies. And then we act shocked when we leave.

Or fall.

Or die.

The Theology We're Actually Preaching

Here's what we're teaching people—not with our words, but with our lives:

Your body doesn't matter. Only your "calling" does. Sleep is optional. Exercise is selfish. Taking a day off means you don't really love Jesus.

The numbers bear this out: 41% of us are obese, compared to 29% of Americans overall, according to Duke University's Clergy Health Initiative. When shepherding the flock means destroying the shepherd, something's broken.

Your family is expendable. Sure, we'll quote Ephesians 5 about loving our spouses. But we'll also show up at every meeting, every event, every crisis—even when it means missing our kid's game for the fourth time this month.

Lifeway Research found that 80% of us say ministry has negatively affected our families. We're not just losing pastors. We're losing our kids. Our marriages. Our homes.

Your mental health is weakness. Depression? That's what happens when you don't have enough faith. Anxiety? Just pray more. Boundaries? That sounds like you're being "unsubmissive to God's call."

Fuller Institute reports that 70% of us say we have lower self-esteem now than when we entered ministry. Lifeway Research found that about a quarter of pastors—23%—say they've experienced some kind of mental illness. Think about that. Ministry is making us feel worse about ourselves. The calling that was supposed to bring life is systematically destroying our sense of worth.

Burnout is faithfulness. The more exhausted we are, the more "devoted" we must be. The closer we get to collapse, the more "sacrificial" they'll call us. They'll applaud us right up until the moment we implode—and then they'll quietly replace us and move on.

Multiple studies confirm that 50% of us admit to using pornography. 37% report inappropriate sexual behavior with someone in the church. These aren't moral failures in a vacuum. They're symptoms of men and women who are drowning and grabbing at anything that makes them feel alive for five minutes.

You come last. Always. God first, others second, and if there's anything left over (there won't be), then maybe you. Self-care is worldly. Rest is laziness. "Die to self" means literally destroying yourself.

And here's the statistic that should wake us all up: According to Barna Group research, 18% of us have contemplated self-harm or suicide in the past year.

One in five.

We've been called to shepherd our communities, lead our families, point people toward Jesus—and one in five of us have thought about ending our own lives.

This is not what Jesus taught.

Not even close.

What Jesus Actually Said

When Jesus said "love the Lord your God" and "love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:30-31), He wasn't giving us permission to annihilate ourselves in the name of ministry.

The phrase is "love your neighbor as yourself"—not "instead of yourself." Not "more than yourself." As yourself.

Jesus assumed we already know how to care for ourselves. We feed ourselves when we're hungry. We rest when we're tired. We protect ourselves from harm.

He's saying: Do that same thing for others.

He's not saying, "Neglect yourself so you can serve everyone else." He's saying, "The way you naturally care for yourself? That's the baseline for how you care for others."

And here's the kicker: If we burn out, we can't love anyone.

Paul said it plainly in 1 Corinthians 6:19-20: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body."

Your body is a temple. Not a tool. Not a machine. Not something to use up and discard when it stops performing.

A temple.

If you wouldn't trash the sanctuary, why are you trashing yourself?

The Flow Jesus Actually Described

The order matters: Receive → Release → Repeat.

We can't give what we haven't received. We can't pour from an empty cup—not for long, anyway. And when we try, we don't love people better. We just burn out faster.

Loving God first doesn't mean ignoring our body's need for rest. It means stewarding what God gave us—including ourselves. If we're running ourselves into the ground, we're not honoring God. We're just proving we think ministry runs on our strength instead of His.

Loving our neighbor as ourselves doesn't mean neglecting ourselves to serve them. It means the way we care for ourselves sets the standard for how we care for them.

If you wouldn't tell your neighbor to work seventy-hour weeks, skip meals, and never take a day off, why are you doing it?

The rhythm Jesus gave us isn't "destroy yourself so you can serve others." It's "receive God's love, steward it well, overflow to others."

When we make ourselves the source instead of the conduit, we end up exhausted, empty, and eventually—broken.

The System is Broken

Let's be clear: Those of us who are burning out, gaining weight, using porn, contemplating suicide—we're not weak.

We're trapped in a system that was never designed to sustain human life.

A system that measures faithfulness by how much we can endure before we break.

A system that rewards self-destruction and punishes boundaries.

A system that equates exhaustion with devotion and rest with laziness.

A system that will grind us into dust and call it "God's will."

And here's the truth nobody wants to say out loud: If your church can't function without you destroying yourself, your church is broken.

Not you.

The church.

If the only way your ministry "works" is if you sacrifice your health, your marriage, your sanity, and your life—that's not God's design. That's dysfunction.

Barna Group found that thirty-eight percent of us are thinking about quitting. Among pastors under forty-five? Forty-six percent. Nearly half.

We're not just losing good pastors. We're losing an entire generation of us.

And the ones who stay? We're not staying because we're healthy. We're staying because we're afraid. Or trapped. Or too exhausted to imagine another way.

What We're Really Afraid Of

You know what keeps us from prioritizing ourselves?

Fear.

Fear of what the board will say. Fear of being seen as lazy or uncommitted. Fear that if we stop, everything will fall apart. Fear that we're not "enough" unless we're running ourselves ragged. Fear that taking care of ourselves means we don't really love Jesus.

But here's the reality: When we burn out, everything falls apart anyway.

And the church that demanded we sacrifice our health, our families, and our souls? They'll replace us in six months and keep rolling.

Soul Shepherding reports that forty percent of us are at high risk of burnout right now—a four hundred percent increase since 2015.

The system isn't getting better.

It's getting worse.

A Different Way Has to Exist

So what do we do?

Tell the truth. Stop pretending this is normal. Stop calling self-destruction "faithfulness." Stop applauding pastors who are one Sunday away from a heart attack.

Change the system. If your church budget has a line for missions but not for pastoral counseling, your priorities are backwards. If your elder board expects you to be available 24/7 but never asks about your health, they're complicit.

Redefine faithfulness. Faithfulness isn't working seventy hours a week. It's stewarding what God gave you—including your body, your mind, your marriage, and your kids. Taking a day off isn't unfaithful. It's obedient.

Model it. If you want your people to believe rest is holy, you have to rest. If you want them to believe their bodies matter, you have to take care of yours. Your life is your loudest sermon.

Stop believing the lie. You are not the source. You are not the savior. The church will not collapse if you take a Sabbath. God is not honored by your burnout.

And self-care is not selfish—it's stewardship.

There Is Another Way

Jesus didn't call us to burn out.

He called us to abide. To receive. To steward. To overflow.

And if your church, your denomination, your board, or your expectations require you to destroy yourself to be "faithful"—they're wrong.

Not you.

Them.

This is why I created WholeCare™—not as another program to add to your plate, but as a framework for realignment. Because we don't need more to do. We need a different way to lead. A way that doesn't require self-destruction as the price of faithfulness.

It's time to stop pretending this is normal.

It's time to stop calling self-destruction "sacrifice."

It's time to tell the truth: We're killing ourselves.

And we need to stop. ◼︎

Questions Worth Sitting With:

If you burn out, who wins? Not you. Not your family. Not your church. Not the Kingdom.

If taking care of yourself makes you "unfaithful," what does that say about the system?

What would it look like to steward your body, your health, your family, and your soul with the same intentionality you bring to your sermon prep?

What are you most afraid will happen if you actually rest?

Tim Eldred has been serving in pastoral ministry for over three decades and has had the privilege of training and mentoring thousands of pastors in over 40 countries. He is the founder of The Authentic Pastor. Most importantly, he is a husband, father, and grandfather.

The Authentic Pastor is a comprehensive life and leadership development organization that helps pastors and churches achieve lasting growth through their proven WholeCare™ system, offering coaching, cohorts, and consulting services. We're passionate about supporting church leaders throughout their entire career journey—from early challenges to long-term success—with the goal of creating healthier pastors and more effective ministries.