For the Shepherds Who Also Need Rest
In a previous blog, I reflected on how priests are expected, often silently, to play multiple roles: public figure, community organizer, counselor, fundraiser, event host, confessor, spiritual guide, and, unofficially, everyone’s friend. You are expected to be available, gracious, attentive, wise, strong, and always smiling.
Lately, I have been thinking about you, my priest friends. I wonder how you carry all of these. When do you rest? What do you do to unwind, to breathe, to remember that you are human too?
We talk so much about pastoral care for the people. But what about pastoral care for the pastor himself?
The demands of priestly ministry can weigh heavily on body, mind, and spirit. While you are spiritually set apart, you are not exempt from the limits of human endurance. Moments of renewal are not luxuries. They are necessary acts of stewardship over your vocation.
As Pope Francis once said in a Chrism Mass homily:
“The tiredness of priests… is like incense which silently rises up to heaven. Our tiredness goes straight to the heart of the Father.”
That is a consoling truth. Still, I find myself wondering how this tiredness can be eased before it becomes discouragement or isolation.
These are a few gentle practices I have come across through reading, prayer, and conversations with priest friends. I share them not as prescriptions, but as quiet invitations.
1. Exercise the Body
Our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 6:19). Regular physical activity is not just about fitness—it’s about stewardship and stress release. Priests can jog, walk, bike, or dance. Even a 20-minute daily stretch can work wonders. Physical movement helps release tension, elevates mood, and improves overall energy.
2. Express the Soul
Creative expression is a gift. Writing, journaling, painting, composing music, singing, or even simple storytelling—these are not just hobbies, but outlets for reflection and healing. As St. John Paul II wrote in Letter to Artists:
“Not all are called to be artists in the specific sense of the term. Yet… all men and women are entrusted with the task of crafting their own life.”
Expression helps the soul breathe. For priests who must often carry silent burdens, this can be a healthy way to process and reflect.
3. Reconnect with Life Beyond the Church Walls
A dinner out with friends, a quiet retreat by the sea, a nature walk, or even a casual visit to a coffee shop—these human moments refresh the heart. They remind the priest he is not a machine or a martyr, but a beloved son of God called to live fully. Relationships outside ministry, even if few, can be lifelines of joy and perspective.
4. Boundaries are a Blessing
Saying “no” is sometimes an act of charity. Priests need personal time. They must be free to say, “I need rest,” without guilt. Parishioners should not demand 24/7 accessibility. Jesus Himself “withdrew to a solitary place” (Mark 1:35). Healthy boundaries protect what matters most: the ability to serve joyfully, not grudgingly.
5. Rest and Sleep Without Apology
Sleep is sacred. Fatigue isn’t holy—it’s a signal. Burnout begins when the body and mind are deprived of proper rest. The Pastores Dabo Vobis reminds us that a priest’s formation includes care for the whole person—“a training in human virtues, so that he may become a man of balance, serenity, and inner harmony.” (PDV, 43)
6. Seek Companionship and Mentorship
No priest should journey alone. Fellowship with fellow priests, spiritual direction, and priest support groups are essential. Sometimes, simply being listened to is the first step toward healing.
In closing, I want to speak directly to you, our beloved priests. You are not superheroes. You are shepherds, yes, but you are also sheep, belonging to the fold of Christ.
Taking care of yourself does not diminish your vocation. It strengthens it. When you rest, laugh, grieve, reflect, and allow yourself to be renewed, you become more capable of carrying your sacred duties with authenticity and joy.
Thank you for your hidden sacrifices, your late-night calls, your quiet prayers, and your constant yes to God’s people. Please remember that your humanity is not a weakness, but a gift.
May you always feel seen, supported, and loved, not only by the faithful you serve, but by the Church that you love. And may Christ, who called you by name, also give you the rest and joy that your hearts quietly long for.
