Priests are Human Too

Every Catholic, at some point in their journey of faith, has experienced spiritual dryness—those periods when prayer becomes a struggle, when we go through the motions without truly encountering God. In such moments, setting aside time for sincere, personal conversation with the Lord feels nearly impossible. We often whisper short prayers out of habit rather than devotion. But what if the one experiencing this is a priest?

Priests are often seen as spiritual pillars, consistently immersed in the sacred through the celebration of the Eucharist, the sacraments, and pastoral duties. But behind the stole and chasuble is a human being with inner battles and burdens. What happens when prayer becomes just another task on their packed schedule? When the Mass, central to the Catholic life, becomes routine? When attending Mass without a scheduled role feels optional?

This isn’t a judgment, but a sobering reflection. I’ve encountered such cases, and though I hold no ill will, it has made me reflect deeply on the spiritual exhaustion priests can face. If we, the laity, sometimes feel disconnected from our spiritual practices, how much more might a priest feel when pastoral life becomes overwhelmingly task-driven?

The Pastores Dabo Vobis, Pope St. John Paul II’s apostolic exhortation on the formation of priests, gives us insight:

“The priest should be the first ‘believer’ in the Word, while being fully aware that the Word is not his but God’s. He does not possess it; he is its servant. He is not the master of the Word. The priest is called not only to proclaim but also to live the Word.” (PDV, 26)

This reminds us that priests, before they are preachers or ministers, are first disciples—called to live the Word and nurture their relationship with Christ. But like all disciples, they can grow weary, especially when their daily ministry becomes so externally demanding that interior life is sidelined.

When the altar becomes their workplace rather than a place of worship, there’s a danger of spiritual burnout. That’s not something to criticize—it’s something to care about. If we are alarmed by decreasing numbers in the priesthood, we should also be attentive to the spiritual well-being of those who remain faithful in service. A priest who cannot pray is like a lamp running low on oil. We should be that oil, through our prayers, encouragement, and sincere friendship.

This is a call not to gossip or speculate about priests we perceive as spiritually dry, but to support them in silence and prayer. The enemy would rather have us scrutinize our priests than intercede for them. But love, as St. Paul says, “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1 Cor 13:7). Let us love our priests enough to pray for their spiritual renewal.

They are not machines. They are men chosen to live extraordinary lives through the same fragile humanity we all possess. We need to be a praying Church—not just for ourselves, but for those who lead us.