A Church and Its Staff

The Church in the West Should Be the Most Excellent Place to Work.

The church in the west should be the most excellent place to work. Not just a decent employer. Not just better than average. The most excellent place to work, full stop.

In a world defined by hustle, exhaustion, and emotional burdens, the church organization should stand apart as a safe haven for those called to labor vocationally for the sake of the gospel. If the church genuinely believes what it preaches about rest, dignity, grace, and the inherent worth of every human being, those convictions have to show up in how it treats the people who give their lives to its mission. Theology that doesn't reach the staff calendar, the benefits package, and the culture of a church office isn't fully lived theology. It's just vocabulary.

And yet, for too many church workers across this country, the gap between what the church preaches and what it practices as an employer is wide, painful, and deeply discouraging.

A World That Is Changing, Without Us.

Since the late 2010s, the United States has seen a drastic shift in how generations relate to their vocation. A global pandemic accelerated conversations that were already brewing. Employees began demanding more, and rightly so. Companies responded with four-day work weeks, hybrid schedules, mental health days, expanded vacation time, and a renewed focus on employee wellbeing. The corporate world, often rightly criticized for its exploitation of workers, began to reckon with the human cost of a culture built entirely around productivity.

I wholeheartedly believe churches, especially our largest expressions, should have been the ones on the leading edge of these changes. We had every reason to lead. Our theology demands it. Our Scriptures speak to it. Our God modeled it when He rested on the seventh day and commanded His people to do the same.

Instead, church staff across the country have often been the slowest to adapt, struggling to build an environment that cares for its employees as much as it cares for its product. While the world was waking up to the importance of human flourishing in the workplace, many churches quietly doubled down on a culture of sacrifice that asks too much of its people and gives too little in return.

That's a failure worth naming, and one we have the power to change.

The Reality for Church Staff.

Let's be honest about what full-time church work often looks like on the ground.

Church employees do their best to serve while often receiving four or fewer Sundays off per year, minimal insurance coverage, 45-plus hour work weeks, and the quiet, sometimes not so quiet, expectation of working six or seven days a week. Boundaries are hard to maintain when the work feels sacred. It's genuinely difficult to clock out when you believe eternal souls are at stake. Church leadership hasn't always helped staff navigate that tension in healthy ways. Instead, the emotional weight of the calling has too often been used, consciously or not, as justification for asking more and offering less.

In 2017, Thom S. Rainer, former CEO of LifeWay and founder of Church Answers, polled pastors and church staff about how much vacation time they took each year. The results were sobering: nearly half of all respondents take zero to two weeks of vacation per year, and 88 percent take four weeks or fewer. As startling as those numbers are, the stories behind them are even more telling. Rainer noted that respondents spoke of their dire need for time away, of constant interruptions during what little vacation they did take, of learning the hard way about forfeited days, and of church members who didn't believe their pastors deserved any vacation at all.

Read that last part again. Church members who did not believe their pastors deserved a vacation. This is the culture we've allowed to take root, one that consumes its leaders and then wonders why they burn out, walk away, or quietly fall apart behind closed doors.

I could belabor this point and keep listing the heartbreaking realities of full-time church work. But that's unnecessary. Anyone who has spent time around people in vocational ministry knows these realities all too well. The exhaustion isn't hidden. The cost isn't invisible. We've simply chosen, too often, to look away.

So instead, I'll just stand firm on this: we must do better.

A Theology of Whole-Life Care.

This isn't just a human resources conversation. It's a theological one.

My commitment is to build inclusive, diverse working environments that care more for people than for products, environments that treat life as more than just Sunday. Not from a clichéd discipleship angle, but from a genuinely holistic view of human life. Being pro-life from womb to tomb has to include our work lives, because we spend roughly 40 hours a week for 40 years working. That is not a small thing. That's the majority of our waking hours. That's where stress is formed, where identity is shaped, where health is won or lost. The church can't speak meaningfully into the fullness of human life while treating its own employees as expendable resources.

Jesus did not model a culture of relentless output. He withdrew. He rested. He sat at tables, attended weddings, took boats across lakes with His friends. He called the weary to come to Him, not to come and work harder. If the Son of God built margin and rest into His own life and ministry, the organizations built in His name have no theological leg to stand on when they refuse to do the same.

The Sabbath was never optional. It was commanded. And I'd argue it was commanded not because God needed a day off, but because He knew we would.

What the World Got Right.

In late 2022, the clothing brand Patagonia made headlines by closing its stores from December 25th through January 1st, giving employees space to celebrate the holidays. The sign posted on their closed doors read: "We believe in quality of life. Our stores will be closed December 25th through January 1st."

The first six words of that statement capture my philosophy entirely. I believe in quality of life.

It's a quiet indictment that an outdoor apparel company said out loud, and backed up with action, what the church has struggled to put into practice. Patagonia didn't close its stores because it was legally required to, and not for good press alone. It did so because its leadership decided people matter more than revenue, that rest isn't a reward for high performers but a right extended to everyone.

The church should have written that sign first. We still can.

People Over Product

Those who work on church staff aren't just called to the church as employees. They're called to be spouses, sons and daughters, aunts and uncles, friends, confidants. They carry whole lives beyond what any job description can contain, lives full of grief and joy, of personal struggles and private dreams, of relationships that need tending and bodies that need rest. They are not just ministers. They are human beings.

And they deserve to be led by people who genuinely, practically honor that.

In light of this, I'm dedicated to building an environment that promotes both earthly and spiritual quality of life. I place the church's employees above the Sunday service, above all events and engagements. That doesn't mean we take the mission less seriously. It means we understand that the people carrying the mission are the mission. You can't build a healthy church on the broken backs of its staff. You can't preach grace on Sunday morning and demand gracelessness from your team the other six days of the week.

I commit to shaking the shackles of a productivity-driven, works-based culture and inviting people instead into freedom and satisfaction in and through our God and friend, Christ Jesus. The gospel we proclaim is one of rest for the weary, of burdens made light, of a Savior who meets us in our limits rather than demanding we transcend them. Let the culture of our church staff rooms reflect that gospel just as much as our sermons do.

A Better Way Is Possible

The church doesn't have to choose between mission and margin, between impact and care for its people. These aren't opposing values. They're deeply interconnected ones. Churches that care for their staff well will find their staff, in turn, serving with more joy, more longevity, and more genuine love for the people they shepherd. Burnout is not a badge of faithfulness. It's a warning sign we've ignored for too long.

I believe a better way isn't only possible. It's necessary. And I believe God will honor the communities and leaders who pursue it, who commit to treating those He has called with the dignity, rest, and care that image-bearers deserve.

The church in the west should be the most excellent place to work. Let's close the gap between what we believe and how we lead, one staff meeting, one vacation policy, and one honest conversation at a time.

We must do better. And we can.