Lineman Leadership: Surviving the Sub-Concussive Hits of Ministry
- Pastor Todd Bishop

- Aug 28
- 4 min read
Quarterbacks get the cameras. Wide receivers get the slow-mo. But ministry isn’t played out wide—it’s in the trenches. Most Pastors I know live on the line of scrimmage: snap after snap, contact after contact. Not one knockout blow, but a thousand stingers. Not “big-T trauma” that makes headlines, but the steady drumbeat of funerals, midnight phone calls, criticism, budget gaps, betrayals, staff turnover, attacks, and the culture war seeping under the church door. Over years and decades, those “small hits” add up.
I have been in ministry nearly 3 decades (1996) and I can tell you that the spiritual concussion protocol is real. It’s not made up in the heads of ego-driven pastors but in the hearts of leaders just trying to serve the broken - while many times they are still broken.
What the data actually says about pastors right now
Barna’s latest shows the spike of pastors considering quitting (29% → 42% from 2021–2022) has eased some, but one-third still considered leaving in late 2023. Encouraging movement—yet the warning lights are still flashing.
Lifeway’s 2025 attrition study is the reality check: despite the pressure, only ~1.2% leave the pastorate each year (non-retirement). Translation: most pastors stay—but many stay carrying quiet wounds.
Long trend work from Duke’s Clergy Health Initiative finds emotional exhaustion rose through 2014–2021 and only recently stabilized, while “flourishing” (mental/relational) ticked up after 2021. That’s hope—tempered by how long the wear has been building.
Bottom line: pastors aren’t mass-quitting, but a lot are white-knuckling it. They are holding on for dear life not knowing what to do if they ever left ministry. They push. They stand in the trenches - not for glory but for God - not for shouts but for sacrifice.
Football has taught us a ton about repeated, lower-level impacts. The newest brain research shows the best predictor of future brain disease (CTE) isn’t just diagnosed concussions—it’s the cumulative force of many hits. Linemen often take less violent single blows, but far more of them; their total load adds up pretty fast. That’s the danger.
Ministry creates the same pattern—sub-concussive soul hits:
One harsh email won’t break you. Hundreds over years change your internal chemistry.
One funeral doesn’t hollow you out. Hundreds can.
One board conflict is stressful. Ongoing, low-grade conflict becomes corrosive.
Psychology has named this for decades: daily hassles—the small, chronic stressors—are often better predictors of mental-health symptoms than the big, rare events. And over time they build allostatic load—physiological “wear and tear” from constant adaptation to stress. It’s the slow grind that ages you.
Pastors also carry others’ trauma—again and again
In real life, many people call the pastor before they call a clinician when a mental-health crisis hits. Clergy are often first-contact gatekeepers, sitting in the blast radius of other people’s pain, week after week. That’s classic secondary traumatic stress territory.
Add in moral injury—those moments when reality forces choices that scrape our deepest convictions (e.g., who doesn’t get the help they need; how we navigate abuse disclosures, political fractures). Moral injury research—first developed around veterans and now widely applied to helping professions—shows long-tail spiritual, psychological, and relational fallout. Pastors are squarely in that blast zone.
At a glance: “sub-concussive” ministry stressors (the everyday hits)
Criticism and comparison loops (online & in-house)
Off-hour crisis calls; vicarious trauma from funerals, abuse, addiction
Role overload (chief preacher + counselor + fundraiser + HR + facilities)
Political crossfire; local community pressure
Chronic under-resourcing / unclear expectations
No single one is the “big drama.” The damage is the stack.
What helps linemen last (and what helps pastors last)
Football cut CTE risk by reducing the number and force of routine hits. Pastors need the same load management mentality—not just “more grit.” Think systemic over heroic:
1. GET SOME EXTRA PROTECTION
Barna found pastors’ regular peer/mentor support dropped from 2015 to 2022. Reverse that trend intentionally: curated pastor cohorts, clergy care groups, and spiritual direction as a standing appointment, not a crisis patch.
2. SCHEDULE SABBATH THERAPY (ST)
Sabbath is theology and neurology. Put non-negotiable off-days, quarterly mini-retreats, and periodic sabbaticals on the calendar now, not after you “earn” them.
3. CHECK THE PLAYBOOK AND ASSIGNMENTS
Role compression is a hit-multiplier. Redefine job descriptions, empower lay leaders, outsource where possible. The antidote to the repeated hits is redistributed load, not bigger shoulders.
4. EXPAND THE TEAM
Because you’ll keep being first call: map local counselors, crisis lines, psychiatrists; create warm-handoff scripts; train staff on when and how to refer. (APAF’s faith-leader guide is excellent.)
Lineman ministry isn’t glamorous—but it moves the chains. If you’re in decade two or three and you can feel the wear: you’re not weak; you’re human. Name the hits. Share the load. Guard your recovery windows. Measure your stress honestly. And don’t buy the lie that holiness means “no boundaries.” Holy people rest. Holy people ask for help.
You can do it a long time with the right protections in place. Don’t overlook the multiple moments that pound your spirit. You can do it long and strong when you manage the blows.
Stay smart in the fight!




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