Photograph by Pavel Lozovikov via Unsplash

In many clergy circles, pastors speak of exhaustion, of holding empty cups, of needing sabbath. Some even utter softly that they are done, so much so, that they are trying to learn or re-learn how to breathe. Since the onset of COVID, pastors speak of having entered a new cycle of breathing with no known roots. Many pastors have discovered that as a result of the pandemic, they are holding their breath much more than prior to 2020, and in non-emergency situations. At times, they have even lost track of how long they had been holding their breath, or the reasons why. If all these statements resonate with you, I say “You are not alone. Please take a deep breath, as you read this article and breathe some more, now.”

In 2024, there seems to be a need to navigate a re-entry into pastoral environments, whether it be virtual platforms, physical entities, or both. Many ministers who attend retreats I facilitate speak of unfamiliar ways to minister to congregants with authenticity given all the palpable grief and trauma they themselves carry. In those instances, I have invited attendees to breathe, to enable each inhale and exhale to be part of a self-care and soul-care routine. As those courageous statements are made, I hear a deep longing to linger in God’s embrace.

Fragile hearts and tired bodies long to rest and be infused with peace and love. We need to be constantly reminded of this biblical verse in the Song of Songs 6:4 “My love, you are as beautiful as the city of Tirzah. You are as lovely as Jerusalem. You are as majestic as troops carrying their banners.” (NIRV). As God’s beloved, the desire to be surrounded by God’s blanket of love and the longing to be in sabbath mode is real.

As I hear this yearning from colleagues, I find myself remembering and acknowledging that Jesus retreated often from the daily demands of ministry. Rest is good. Retreat, sleep, pause, silence were active words while Jesus walked the earth. Why have we pushed them more into dormancy stage? Jesus retreated after his baptism, slept on the back of a boat during a storm, paused to rest at the well, paused to eat at Mary and Martha’s home and more. Jesus took time to sit, to breathe, to eat, to grieve, to lament, to pray, to be silent. Why is it so hard for us all to follow the model set before us?                  

The biblical story found in the gospel of Luke 4:1-2 has always captivated my attention. Jesus chose forty days of solitude after his baptism. The Message reads: “Now Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, left the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wild. For forty wilderness days and nights he was tested by the Devil. He ate nothing during those days, and when the time was up, he was hungry.” Besides all the temptations we read in the text, I have often wondered about the power of breathing and intentional contemplative practice Jesus embraced during these forty days. We know transformation happened. Jesus re-entered the world ready to start his public ministry and was hungry.

We are offered a template of preparation for public ministry, service, and courageous justice work, fasting from what is of the world to discern, assess, and plan next steps. Such a template resonates with me. I live God’s deep new breath every time I step on my paddle board and paddle away from the shores of a lake. I come back from paddling with Jesus, with a hunger for justice and for wrongs to be made rights. I cannot put into words what happens during these quiet moments on the paddle board with Jesus, but transformation is lived. Jesus creates a shield between me and the rest of the world that stands on the shore, and I am taught to breathe. I breathe with fullness of body and soul.

As God’s servant-leaders, what stops us from taking deep breaths? We often encourage others to “take a breath.” Some pastors start sermons with centering breaths. Might we start being better at listening to ourselves?

God created what is seen and unseen and breathed life into everything. In Genesis 2:7, we read “Then the Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” (NIV). God gave full breaths — not half breaths, nor quarter breaths. Has breathing become a justice issue for many of us? Has humanity put limits on those who can and cannot take full breaths? Many horrific current events have shown who has had liberty to breathe or not. How as God’s servants, ministers of the gospel, servant-leaders, have we paused on receiving and embracing God’s anointed breath?

I humbly submit that breathing, the act of inhaling and exhaling, is not only part of contemplative practices, but a core element to pastoral ministry. Therefore, I invite you to remember, to claim, to sit and stand with God’s new breath of healing, of rest, and of love. It will inevitably facilitate greater openness to discover or re-discover pause and sabbath with Jesus. May we all hunger to take a breath. We deserve it.