How Much Vacation Should A Lead Pastor Take?
And Other Things That Are Probably None Of Our Business
The Absolute Absurdity of a Two-Week Vacation
Two weeks of vacation a year is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard. Europeans take six weeks. The French basically start plotting their next vacation while still on vacation. Meanwhile, in America, you're expected to work until you physically disintegrate, at which point, if you're lucky, you get a memorial plaque and a 10% discount on your own casket.
Different countries, different values. Some cultures treat rest as a human necessity; others treat it like a moral failing.
But here’s the real issue when it comes to lead pastoring: they actually don’t have days off. Ever. This isn’t a “clock out and see you Monday” kind of gig—it’s a 24/7, omnipresent, on-call reality. Because, whether they realize it or not, pastors are essentially small business owners. And when you own your own business, you are never fully off the clock.
What Nobody Understands About Pastors (Or Business Owners, For That Matter)
Here’s what most people will never understand about lead pastoring, entrepreneurship, or any job that requires full personal buy-in:
You don’t get to “unplug.” You don’t slip into a weeklong dopamine coma at an all-inclusive resort while your job sits patiently in a cryogenic chamber, waiting for your return. You have to make calls, take calls, solve problems, and put out metaphorical fires at the most random, inconvenient, and soul-crushingly untimely moments.
Honestly, that must be nice—to actually disconnect. I remember what that was like.
Back When I Wasn’t “On-Call” for Life
When I was 25, I was a youth pastor, which, structurally speaking, is a very different animal than being a lead pastor or running your own business. I went on a bromantic, no-stress, all-inclusive getaway with my friend Paul to Cuba. Seven uninterrupted days of piña coladas, cigars, and walks on the beach like we were in some kind of gay Hallmark movie coming to Amazon in 2040.
And guess what? I didn’t talk to my dad (my boss), I didn’t check in with volunteers, I didn’t answer a single work-related text. I came back feeling like a billion bucks.
But now? Now I own a business. Different setup, dude.
The Delusion of “Offline”
My dad used to swear up and down that he was going completely offline for vacation. That worked when he was in traveling ministry—back when his responsibilities were more evangelist-on-the-road than CEO of a church. But when he became a lead pastor? Different rules.
Because here’s the reality: some jobs don’t fit into the standard “off the clock” model. I think about Gil, the Indian gas station owner in my town. He worked seven days a week because his margins were too thin to hire extra staff.
Here’s how much vacation I think pastors should take each year: