Jared C. Wilson's Blog, page 6

The Vow of Christ

“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there will I be buried. May the LORD do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you.”
— Ruth 1:16-17

Even in the face of our sin, Jesus doesn’t blink. Nothing surprises him. Nothing fazes him. Not even the prospect of being loved back imperfectly or infrequently will send him packing. Our well-meaning friends may decide the prospect of our pain and junk spilling into their lives isn’t worth it. They see our habits and our baggage and our self-interested patterns and they wish us well, but sadly, like Orpah, choose another path. But not our friend Jesus! He sets his face toward the cross, scorning its shame, and makes his covenant with us to the bitter end.

Jesus, like Ruth, makes his commitment to the ones he loves for better or worse. But unlike Ruth, he knows just how bad the “worse” is going to be. Still he stays.

Ruth stays too, and things do not look great for her in the immediate wake of her commitment. She and her bitter mother-in-law make the journey to Bethlehem. It is hard to see the wisdom in Ruth’s decision. They are poor. They are widows. She is a Moabite. Her mother-in-law is really kind of a downer. I wonder if Ruth ever had second thoughts.

But she went. Why? Because her vow had been made. It had been made out of love for God and love for Naomi. Ruth was willing to venture into the unknown because her love was greater than her fear.

I think of Jesus in that garden mere minutes before his betrayal and arrest, mere hours before his torture and crucifixion. The agony of the cross is already gripping his flesh. In his prayers, he is sweating blood. In the near distance, his friends nap. He is doing this for them?

Yes, and for us. Jesus even prayed for you in that garden. Did you know that? John 17:20 says he prayed for all who will believe because of the apostles’ message in the future. “Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me” (verse 23).

Christ’s vow has been made. It has been made out of love for the Father and love for you. Jesus was willing to venture even to death on a cross because his love was greater than his fear. And because his love is greater your sin.

If you liked this post, you may like my new Bible study resource Ruth: Redemption for the Broken , from New Growth Press in their Gospel-Centered Life series.

How to Fall . . . Again

I’ve previously written about how one might arrange their life in such a way to make them ripe for a fall. I’ve held out the possibility there of restoration for those who have previously disqualified themselves from ministry. You don’t have to be a church leader to make a smoking crater of your life and relationships, however. When repentance is genuine and submission to discipline and accountability is embraced, the joyful reception of the church is to be an acceptance back into the fellowship of the church.

Maybe you’ve been there and back. I have friends who’ve fallen, both as church leaders and as “ordinary” church members. Some pursued repentance soon after their sins were exposed and have seen their relationships (eventually) and church membership restored. Some are still in pursuit of their sins. For those in the former category, what kinds of vigilance might they want to maintain to make sure they do not drift headlong back into old patterns of vulnerability and compromise?

If you’re a restored church leader—or simply a church member walking in repentance after a fall—you may have some obvious boundaries in place to keep you from the explicit routes back to your old sins. But there are some ways your new life might make you vulnerable to new sins. The Devil is cunning and is perfectly willing to cut you in the left side while you protect your right. How might this happen? What are some ways you might fall again? Here are four:

1. Turn your testimony into a point of pride.

God is to get the glory for forgiving the vilest of sinners. Reveling in the proclamation of grace often means declaring what the Lord has delivered you from. But there is a way in which our sordid past can become a badge of honor, a prop we dig up to show our “realness” and “authenticity,” to the point where our testimony becomes our shtick and our message becomes more about ourselves than about the Christ who redeems us. The biblical qualifications for eldership, for instance, are there for a reason. And yet we live in a day when fallen leaders talk like their disqualification is their qualification, which is a great way to denigrate God’s Word, prioritize themselves over the church, and prove their repentance is incomplete.

We live in a day when fallen leaders talk like their disqualification is their qualification, which is a great way to denigrate God’s Word, prioritize themselves over the church, and prove their repentance is incomplete.

Do you reckon your shocking story makes you a more authentic believer than those who’ve never engaged in the same kinds of rebellions as you? Does your fall make you somehow a better Christian than those whose testimonies seem more boring? This is a subtle kind of pride that has the appearance of celebrating grace. But its aim is self-oriented. And it seems to forget that the grace that is power to forgive our disobedience is also power to fuel our obedience.

2. Begin shifting your language away from what you did toward “what happened to you.”

The minute we begin deflecting and distancing ourselves from our actions is the minute we re-engage in the blame-shifting both Adam and Eve engaged in minutes after the Lord called them to account for their sin. Some Christians ostensibly restored begin using impersonal language about their sins, sometimes even recasting them as simple “flaws” or “brokenness.” No forgiven person needs to believe they are unforgiven—heavens no!—but repentant persons have no problem owning up to the sin for which they’ve been forgiven.

If we truly believe in the justifying pardon of Christ, we will have no problem admitting our sin, and admitting it was our sin, nobody else’s, and still less is it something we “fell into.” Don’t talk like you woke up one day somehow ambushed by sin. That’s a great way to become passive about staying out of it today and tomorrow.

3. Become a reverse Pharisee.

Now that you’ve been forgiven and are enjoying restoration, start criticizing all those legalists who didn’t treat you well.

If you for whatever reason couldn’t submit to restoration in the church or Christian tribe in which you fell, once you’ve emerged in a new one for your new life, make sure to take potshots at the old circles you used to run in. Turn your grace into license for bitterness and blame. Feel like blaming your restrictive or demanding previous context?

Make your “restoration tour” about critiquing the people who once supported you. Give public thanks that you’re not like those judgmental people over there.

4. Rush back into elevated positions.

Someone recently asked me, knowing that I’m theologically open to the restoration of disqualified ministers to the pastorate, if I’ve ever known of it to happen in an appropriate way. I could only think of a couple of examples personally. My friend asked, “Why do you think that is?” I suggested it’s because the fallen guys we’re all aware of—the ones with public platforms—tend to grow impatient in whatever restoration process is ostensibly held out to them. The limelight is intoxicating. It’s a hell of a drug (wording intentional). And when one has pursued it previously out of some need for validation or exaltation—and these needs aren’t sufficiently addressed by the gospel in the time of a fall—the lure to get back in the spotlight becomes overwhelming.

Restoration to the pastorate should not be the goal for any newly fallen pastor. Let him grow as a believer in the fellowship alongside his fellow saints. Let him long earn a new reputation. No one is owed the pulpit or a platform.

But this is true for “ordinary” pastors and church members too. When we begrudge restoration processes, bristle at accountability, impatiently stew about the time it takes others to trust us again or steward ministries to us again, we short circuit what the Lord can do in our hearts that being in charge of something can’t.

Some leaders will in fact grace-shame those who want to move slowly in any kind of restoration process. “You must not believe in grace,” they say. We should look them in the eye and say—gently but firmly—”No, you must not. Because you have not been still long enough to see how satisfying the Lord’s grace can be for you when you’re not in authority.” Restoration to the pastorate should not be the goal for any newly fallen pastor. Let him grow as a believer in the fellowship alongside his fellow saints. Let him long earn a new reputation. No one is owed the pulpit or a platform.

These aren’t the only ways, of course. But while you’re setting up guardrails in your internet browsing or personal relationships, and so on, keep on guard still against the subtle means of attack. Once the lion has felled us, we may rebound, but we often do so weaker than we know. And let each of us—each. of. us.—who thinks we stand take heed lest we fall (1 Cor. 10:12).

Lemuel Haynes on Voting When the Options Are Evil

Came across this funny anecdote in Cooley’s Sketches of the Life and Character of Lemuel Haynes:

“An important political office was to be filled in Vermont,” says a respected correspondent, “and two candidates were before the people, both of whom were avowed and open infidels, and rather notoriously such. These being the favourites of the two political parties, serious people felt embarrassed, and many withheld t heir votes. On the day of the election, when the people were thronging to the polls, Mr. Haynes, being a resident in the same county, had occasion to pass through B—–, and made me a friendly call. As he rode up to the door, I met him with the cheerfulness and pleasure which his presence was apt to inspire; and feeling curious to know his impressions in regard to the all-absorbing question of the day, and willing also to try his wit, I said, as I took him by the hand, ‘Well, Father Haynes, did you put in your vote for ———- before you left home?’

‘No;’ he replied without the least embarrassment or surprise,—‘No;—when there are two candidates up, and one is Satan and t’other the Old Boy, I don’t think it is much object to vote.’”

— Timothy Mather Cooley, Sketches of the Life and Character of Lemuel Haynes, New York: Negro Universities Press, 1969, p.124.

Reflections on Three 10th Anniversaries

This year is a milestone year for me in a few ways. For instance, it was 25 years ago (Summer 1994) that I took my first ministry position—youth director at Zion Chinese Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. But it’s some more recent milestones I’m reflecting on today. This very day (August 8) 10 years ago was my first day as the pastor of Middletown Springs Community Church in Middletown Springs, Vermont. But this summer marks two other 10th anniversaries —it was 2009 when my first book was published and when I had my first public speaking engagement. Below some reflections on these three “10th anniversaries.”

1. It was an odd feeling at the time when Your Jesus is Too Safe became my first published book. I’d been trying 10 years at that point trying to get published as a novelist. Despite serving in vocational ministry, I saw my writerly self as a storyteller. I began writing my first novel in earnest in 1997 and eventually got an agent with it. But it didn’t get published. (Not then, anyway. More than 10 years later it was published by David C Cook.) So I wrote a second novel. My agent said it was too long for a first-time author with no platform. He only showed it to a few publishers. Didn’t get published. (I still think it’s the best thing I’ve ever written.) I started writing a third novel. Then we planted a church. And that writing got interrupted. I set the manuscript aside. My agent contacted me and said, “Do you have something I can show people?” I said, “I don’t have time to work on the novel. But I could turn this sermon series I just preached on Jesus and the Gospels into some book-quality chapters.” He said, “I don’t know. You’re really a fiction guy.” I put a proposal together anyway, titling it The Unvarnished Jesus. And what do you know? Without a big platform, without a big church, we got a modest publishing deal with Kregel for what would eventually become Your Jesus Is Too Safe.

2. A few years later, after I’d published a couple of Bible study resources with Lifeway and was working on a few things for Crossway, I had the itch to pick up the storytelling again, and I messaged my agent to say, “Hey, I’ve got some time now, and I’d like to resume that unfinished novel.” He said, “I don’t know. You’re really a non-fiction guy now.”

3. That unfinished novel, by the way, a meta-mystery titled Echo Island, is scheduled to be published by B&H as a YA novel next year. I’m working on it this summer.

4. In 2008, when I was interviewing with the search team from Middletown I explained that I had a book scheduled to publish the next year, a month before I was scheduled to begin at the church, and I had one speaking engagement booked in relation to the book (at The Journey Church in St. Louis). I said, “This may just be one book. This might just be one speaking engagement. And that’s it. And that’s fine. But if God continues to open doors to those opportunities, I would love to pursue public ministry in that way.” They were excited about the prospect and gave me their blessing to continue writing and speaking in public ministry, neither of us knowing if the Lord would will such a thing. In his kindness, he did. And their kindness, Middletown was very generous with me for six years, seeing my public ministry, in a sense, as their ministry to the wider world too. I self-limited my Sundays away for outside speaking to four a year so that I would not be gone too much from the pulpit, but otherwise developed a measured travel scheduled as more opportunities arose.

5. The burdens of ministry in my time in Vermont were immense, more so spiritually and emotionally than even I realized until I was a year or two removed from it. But I dedicated most of my Wednesdays in my six years of ministry there as writing days, both for sermon prep and for book projects and blogging. Routine is a big help to me, and it keeps me prolific.

Those were five reflections on these 10-year milestones in my life. Here are five exhortations for you based on them:

1. Do not despise the day of small beginnings.
Yes, I’ve been writing and speaking for 10 years now, and it helps me pay my bills. But I also labored writing for publication without any success for 10 years. If you’re a writer, you can’t help it. If you aspire to publishing, in some ways it’s harder these days than ever before. But keep at it. Don’t let what you don’t have discourage you from working with what you do.

2. Let your local ministry be the credibility for public ministry, not the other way around.
We know the guy who gets ministry jobs because of his platform. It’s a hollow legitimacy that eventually bears bad fruit. If you have or are in some way pursuing a public ministry—whether it’s writing (for print or just online) or speaking/preaching, or both—remember that local church ministry is where the authenticity is. Local church ministry is where the accountability is. (Which is why you should only partly trust, if you do at all, the online pundits who have no discernible church membership or connection.) The soil of local ministry is where the fruit of integrity, wisdom, and experience are grown. If you don’t have that, anything you share with the world is just bluster.

3. Hold it all loosely.
People are fickle. And broken. They do and say messed up things. Personal slights and offenses pile up with the years. Do not find your validation in anything but the justification you have in Christ by faith. He is your reason for living. Grace is the reason for getting out of bed in the morning. Don’t make ministry, whether local or public, your identity.

4. Your reputation follows you.
If you’re a jerk, it gets around. And you may think you’re too big for it to do much damage, but actually the bigger you get, the bigger the jerky shadow you trail around behind you, and the bigger the smoking crater you will make of your ministry when your shred of integrity cannot hold up the weight of your pride. Just know: Your legacy will ultimately not be found in your content production but in your humility, your love, your kindness to others.

5. Make much of Jesus.
By God’s grace, I have been privileged to write nearly 20 books and study resources in the last 10 years. I have preached or taught in many churches, conferences, and other events in numerous countries in the last 10 years. Also by God’s grace, my message has not really varied. No matter my text, no matter my topic, I want people to see the glory of Jesus in his gospel. This good news is the power to change—for the lost to be saved and for the saved to be strengthened. In this regard, I am unabashedly a one-note Johnny. You’re not gonna get anything different from me. If you do, you should worry. My exhortation to you is to fearlessly adopt a gospel fixation. Don’t worry about it seeming rote or redundant. Go hard after Jesus. Hold him up as beautiful. Make his magnification the mission of your ministry, in whatever contexts the Lord is gracious to open to you. You won’t regret it, even if sometimes “they” don’t get it.

We Need a Church Besotted with the Glory of God

“The reality of God lays lightly on the American church.”
— David Wells

“Arise! Shine! Your light has come; the LORD’s glory has shone upon you. Though darkness covers the earth and gloom the nations, the LORD will shine upon you; God’s glory will appear over you. Nations will come to your light and kings to your dawning radiance. Lift up your eyes and look all around: they are all gathered; they have come to you. Your sons will come from far away, and your daughters on caregivers’ hips. Then you will see and be radiant; your heart will tremble and open wide, because the sea’s abundance will be turned over to you; the nations’ wealth will come to you. Countless camels will cover your land, young camels from Midian and Ephah. They will all come from Sheba, carrying gold and incense, proclaiming the LORD’s praises. All Kedar’s sheep will be gathered for you; rams from Nebaioth will be your offerings; they will be accepted on my altar, and I will glorify my splendid house.”
— Isaiah 60:1-7

American evangelicalism has emerged in the 21st century not as a prophetic witness but as a political action committee, not as a proclaimer of the glory of Christ but a purveyor of pragmatism and production values.

We take God lightly. We treat him flippantly. We are too busy saying “whee” in church when we should be saying “woe is me.” The weightiness, the gravity, the all-encompassing and awe-inspiring glory of the Creator God, the Great I AM, is woefully neglected in far too many places where something resembling worship takes place.

But God will not have it.

In Isaiah 60 we see the enormity of the effect on the church and on the world of the God who lives. Think of all the ways we try to make the church appealing that have almost nothing to do with God. God almost seems like an afterthought, or a benevolent grandpa sitting in the corner admiring our concerts to ourselves. There is no glory in those exercises.

In the end, if we will have glory it MUST come from God.
Our light comes from HIM shining over us – Is. 60:1
His glory will appear over us – v.2
The radiance is a reflection of him – v.5
The praises will go to the LORD – v.6
He will glorify HIS beautiful house – v.7

This theme runs throughout the entire book of Isaiah. In the midst of ruins, the Lord reigns:

For the High and Exalted One,
who lives forever, whose name is holy, says this:
“I live in a high and holy place.” (Isaiah 57:15)

Heaven is my throne,
and earth is my footstool.
Where could you possibly build a house for me? (Isaiah 66:1)

God is enthroned above the circle of the earth;
its inhabitants are like grasshoppers. (Isaiah 40:22)

Look, the nations are like a drop in a bucket;
they are considered as a speck of dust on the scales;
he lifts up the islands like fine dust. (Isaiah 40:15)

And this commences of course with Isaiah 6:

I saw the Lord seated on a high and lofty throne, and the hem of his robe filled the temple. And the angels are calling Holy Holy Holy and Isaiah is utterly undone. “I am unclean. Woe is me!”

And it is out of this divine discombobulation, this awestruck reconstitution, that the missional mandate is given. And this is always the case with great moves of God in which men are tools in his hands—they always begin with gospel exultation. Mission begins not with leadership skills or leadership strategies, but a glorious encounter with the living God.

Look, what America needs, brothers and sisters, is not merely believers in God, but worshipers of God—not people simply willing to mentally assent to the reality of the supreme being, willing perhaps to accommodate acknowledgment of him into their weekly schedule, willing to nod at him on social media as a missing “value” in society, but people willing to offer their whole hearts to the reality of the glory of the one true God YHWH, willing to surrender their days—their very lives—to him, willing to reorient their very existence around the One in whom we live and move and have our being.

When we look back at the genuine moves of God throughout history we inevitably find a preaching of God that is drenched in majesty. Movements begun through the preaching of the glory of the church fizzle out quickly. But movements begun through the preaching of the glory of God have captured whole counties and countries. They have changed the face of the globe.

A domesticated, privatized god moves nothing. But the majesty of the God of the Scriptures is like a heavenly magnet, drawing and repelling, reshaping the very world into a reflection of his foreordained designs.

(This is a portion of a sermon on “The Church Majestic” preached at the 2018 For The Church National Conference.)

Where I’ll Be, Fall 2019

Every now and then, for those who are interested, I share selections from my upcoming speaking dates. If you’re in any of these areas and able to attend, would be great to meet you.

This weekend! – The Normal Pastor Conference. Kansas City, MO.

August 26-27, 2019 – NAMB Replanter Summit on Worship. Alpharetta, GA. Also featuring Thom Rainer and Andrew Peterson.

September 23-24, 2019 – For the Church National Conference. Kansas City, MO. Also featuring J.D. Greear, Crawford Loritts, Tony Merida, Jason Allen, and Owen Strachan.

October 17-19, 2019 – Christ Hold Fast Conference. San Diego, CA.

October 21-23, 2019 – Shepherds 360 National Church Leaders Conference. Cary, NC. Also featuring Al Mohler, Erwin Lutzer, Juan Sanchez, Costi Hinn, Jonathan Leeman, and more.

November 13, 2019 – TGC Twin Cities Event. Minneapolis, MN. More details TBA.

View complete listing of speaking engagements here. And if you’re interested in having me speak or preach at your church or event, inquiries may be sent via this page.

Being a Pastor Isn’t ‘Just a Job’

I’ve been a pastor, and I’ve not been a pastor, and I have to tell you, pastors are special. There is nothing quite like pastoral work, and I’ve discovered it is sometimes difficult to communicate that effectively to congregations. If you’ve never been a pastor, you may even suspect all the anxious, recent talk about pastoral stress and burnout and the like is overblown. We’ve all heard the jokes about how pastors work only one day a week.

There are also plenty of us who have served under or otherwise been led by manipulative, lazy, or even abusive pastors, giving us even more cause to raise an eyebrow about any posture toward ministers other than “keeping them honest.” There are certainly too many unqualified men in the pastoral ranks. But I’m convinced the vast majority of pastors are good and faithful men doing their imperfect best to serve the Lord and feed their flocks. And I’m equally convinced that too few church members often think about the burdens and responsibilities that really do make ministry special.

Too few pastors feel secure or free enough to speak this way in public. They fear being judged or dismissed. From my time “on the other side,” I can say that I—and almost every ministerial comrade I opened up to—felt constantly misunderstood and constantly restrained from confessing it.

Now that I’m not a pastor, I have taken seriously one of my ministerial goals in serving pastors and advocating for pastors. To that end, if you’re one of those who thinks pastors whine too much and work too little, I want to share with you some reasons you may not have considered that pastoral work really is different.

1. The qualifications are greater.

Every Christian is called to pursue holiness with the same vigor. No one is exempted from cooperating with the Spirit’s work in sanctification. But 1 Timothy 3, Titus 1, and 1 Peter 5 all set the bar for pastors higher. They must not only be gifted to teach but be of exceptional and reputable character. This is not so for “regular” church members. The Lord himself has set the bar higher for elders.

2. The accountability is heightened.

As it should be. We should, in the biblical sense, expect more from our shepherds than the sheep. James 3:1 tells us that teachers will be judged with greater strictness. And 1 Peter 4:17 says judgment begins at the house of God, and if it begins there, it certainly begins with the leaders of that house. So we know that the Lord himself holds his undershepherds to greater accountability. Pastors are to “be examples to the flock” (1 Pet. 5:3).

But “we the people” hold our pastors to greater accountability than we often do ourselves, don’t we? In some respects, this is a good thing, as the qualifications for ministry are greater than the qualifications for membership. Yet when a member is in sin that must be disciplined, and the impact to the church is great, the impact is far greater if that member happens to be a pastor. Not to mention, not many members are at serious risk of losing their means of providing for their families due to their sin. But pastors are.

Still further, I can think of almost no situation where a church member would lose his job over another member’s disappointment with them or disagreement with them—unless that other member happened to be their employer, I suppose—but many pastors are at constant risk of this, constantly feeling the tug between convictional leadership and congregational approval. Every pastor knows at least one pastor who has been fired or convinced to resign for unbiblical reasons—if he hasn’t been subject to that situation himself. Because, in a church environment, where even minor disagreements or frustrations have the potential for becoming spiritualized, the pastor’s job is never “just a job.”

3. Pastoral work takes an enormous emotional toll.

This is the part I think most church members don’t quite get. Until you’ve experienced it, you can’t quite understand it. If you trust your pastor(s), you believe them when (if!) they talk about it, but until you’ve been in the role, you really can’t understand the emotional toll taken on good pastors. Closely analogous roles would be those who do emergency work, police officers, or even some social workers, where one constantly feels “on,” there are frequent crises that keep the worker’s adrenaline going long after the crisis is over, and there are experiences and challenges that become difficult to discuss with others who do not share the same work.

Some studies have shown that the occupations at highest risk of burnout include what are called “helping professions,” of which pastoral ministry is one. The numbers change depending on which study you’re looking at, but the burnout and dropout rates for pastors aren’t encouraging.

In 2 Corinthians 11, after Paul has listed a series of hardships severely affecting his body and soul—including shipwrecks, imprisonments, attempts on his life—he includes “the anxiety he feels for all the churches” (v.28). Just this admission from Paul helped me enormously in ministry as I wondered from time to time, (a) am I a weak weirdo to feel this way?, and (b) does anyone care? Paul citing the anxiety he feels from his church work is just one indicator that there is a “good” kind of anxiety shepherds feel for their flocks. It is the rare (and valuable) church member who constantly carries the weight of his or her whole church in their heart, but most pastors do this all the time. They aren’t simply thinking about the joys and sorrows in their own lives and families—they are constantly thinking about the joys and sorrows in yours. That’s different.

4. You can’t turn it off.

Though I’m still in vocational ministry, I can tell you that the difference between the end of my work day now and the end of my work day when I was a pastor is significant. While I still carry too many of tomorrow’s sorrows into today, and while there are always projects and endeavors occupying my mind outside of official “office hours,” for the most part I am able to “turn off” my job when it’s time to stop working. When I was a pastor I could not do that. Here’s what it typically looked like:

You are “on call” 24/7 for emergencies (and situations people considered emergencies, even if they really weren’t).
I lost lots of sleep over hurts people carried, sins people were committing, resentments people were harboring, and circumstances that seemed too spiritually daunting.
When going on vacation, it typically took me a few days just to start relaxing. In my first few years, this would be immediately undone if I made the bonehead move of checking email or voicemail.
It was hard to be present with my wife and kids because of frequent, intense relational work necessary during ministry engagements. They needed my best when I was at my most fatigued relationally.
People’s spiritual needs do not tend to stay confined within a neat 40-hour work week.

Again, none of this is grounds for pastoral self-pity. And of course there are other professions where these sorts of dynamics are also in play. Overbounding stress is prevalent in way too many of us. But there’s a reason most pastors won’t talk about it. Partly because they mean to just “suck it up.” Partly because they don’t want to appear weak. And partly because they know some church members will think they’re complaining about nothing. There are few things worse than a wimpy preacher, am I right?

But the truth is that good pastors are not able to take the pastor hat off at the end of the day or leave their heart for their flocks in the office when they clock out. It’s just not something you can turn off.

For all these reasons and more, it is fine and proper for us “regular” church members to acknowledge that our pastors are special. They aren’t better Christians because of their ministry. They aren’t more justified. They don’t have a special connection to God that we don’t have. And yet their office is unique and brings with it challenges and burdens that most of us do not share.

So how could we share these burdens with them to a greater extent? Here are three big tips, from one sheep to another:

1. Pray for your pastors.

They need it. And praying for them helps shape your heart in gracious ways toward them. When I’m praying for my pastors, I am loving them. And it is hard to have a loving disposition toward someone and scrutinize or otherwise be suspicious of them at the same time. (This is why Paul lists those things as evidence of a lack of love in 1 Cor. 13.)

2. Take seriously not just the biblical admonitions to pastoral accountability but also to pastoral honor (1 Tim. 5:17).

This can look like anything from staying vigilant about making sure pastoral pay is commensurate with experience and tenure but also in line with cost of living considerations. It can also look like installing a sabbatical schedule for full-time pastors or just ensuring adequate vacation time and weekly days off are enjoyed by pastors and respected by the church.

3. Be a low-maintenance church member.

As a church member, I want to take Hebrews 13:17 seriously: “Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you.” This means living my life in such a way that it is as much a joy and as little a challenge to be my pastor as possible.

Normal Pastor Conference, August 2-3

We are less than 2 weeks away from our 3rd Normal Pastor Conference, sponsored by The CSB. Attendees have been blessed by this refocus on the gospel’s power and peace for ministry, and I hope you’ll be among them this year.

The conference will be held Friday, August 2 to Saturday, August 3 at Liberty Baptist Church in Liberty, MO (Kansas City). Check out this promising message lineup:

Won Kwak on “Joy-filled Seasons of Pastoral Ministry”
Ronnie Martin on “The Fearful Pastor”
John Onwuchekwa on “Pastoral Perseverance”
Nathan Rose on “The Pastor and Spiritual Warfare”
Joe Thorn on “Anxiety in the Pastor’s Heart”
Jared Wilson on “Pastoring Through Hostility”

Every attendee will also receive a free copy of H.B. Charles, Jr.’s On Pastoring and of course lots of opportunity to sing and pray together and fellowship with other “normal” pastors (and their wives and colleagues!).

Registration cost is juts $39, but if you register 4 or more from your church, you can use the promo code GROUP for 40% discount on your ticket purchase.

More info and registration link here.

Hope to see you there!

Why Are Calvinists So Mean?

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.
— Galatians 5:22-23

The stereotype of the mean Calvinist exists for a reason. There’s a reason, after all, that clichés become clichés. If you spend any time in evangelical social media or have a more traveled experience in evangelical churches, you’ve been on the receiving end of a mean Calvinist before. If you’re like me, you’ve wondered at some point, “Why do those who subscribe to the doctrines of grace frequently seem so graceless? Is there something in particular about Calvinism that makes people mean?”

To that latter question, many have said yes. They do believe the essential tenets of Reformed theology lend themselves to coldness and harshness. I don’t think that’s true. And of course you may say that’s because I’m a Calvinist! And I am, so you may be right. But I’ve known far too many gracious, kind, Spirit-filled Calvinists to think there’s something in the doctrines that necessitates meanness. But there may be something in the culture or the application that lends itself more readily to unkind treatment of others. Below some thoughts on why too many Calvinists seem so mean. But first, some caveats*:

1) I know Calvinism refers to a broader system of historically Reformed theology, but I am using it here in the modern shorthand way of referring to anybody who subscribes to Reformed soteriology. And as I confirmed a moment ago, I put myself in that camp. So if you’re tempted to think I’m just into this for Calvinist bashing, please understand that these calls are coming from inside the house. In fact, I have been either guilty of or tempted to each of the problems listed below myself. All of us who own the label ought to own the baggage and watch ourselves.

2) I am differentiating mean Calvinism from “cage stage” Calvinism. If you’re not familiar with that phrase, “cage stage” refers to those who are new to Calvinism and so zealous/passionate about their new knowledge they ought to be locked in a cage for a while until they settle down lest they hurt somebody. A lot of people emerge from the cage stage. The mean Calvinists I’m referring to are the ones who’ve been Calvinist long enough to have outgrown the cage stage. (Also, I’m of the opinion that most people who are new subscribers to any theology tend to go through similar cage stages. I’ve met plenty of social justice cage-stagers and anti-social justice cage-stagers, “progressive evangelicalism” cage-stagers, etc. You probably have too. In fact, some of the meanest people I’ve known in church life and online have been angry about my Calvinism.)

With the hem and the haw out of the way, here are some theories on where mean Calvinism comes from:

Calvinism as Gnosis

This has been my leading theory on the reason for mean Calvinism for a while. The doctrines of grace serve for so many as a kind of “special knowledge” of the Scriptures that others don’t have – or at least, that the Calvinist didn’t have before he was a Calvinist. Now truth has been unlocked. He sees something others don’t. He’s been enlightened. He understands more deeply. And those who’ve come to Calvinism from ignorance of it or even opposition to it, begin to see how much sense it makes of so much Scripture. It’s like putting corrective lenses on for the first time.

Unfortunately, having this experience can be a huge temptation to pride, where the one now enlightened sees other Christians as un-enlightened. And that’s just a tiny half-step to seeing them as not as spiritual as us or not as serious about their faith as us. The “gnosis” of Calvinism leads to a behavioral heresy of arrogance and partiality. And in the end, what often happens is those who’ve been “enlightened” start to see themselves as smarter than others or more diligent in the Bible than others, which means they inadvertently begin seeing the knowledge of grace as something they’ve earned or achieved, which is antithetical to grace itself.

Calvinism as Circumcision

This is a common source of mean Calvinism among those who’ve grown up in historically Reformed traditions, but it is not uncommon among those who wear their Reformed bona fides as a central marker of their identity and community. We all use our theological and philosophical labels to help people know where we’re coming from and identify others with whom we may share affinity, but for too many Calvinists one’s viewpoint on or degree of adherence to Calvinism becomes the way they determine who’s “in” and who’s “out.”

Some have so found their identity in Calvinist community that it begins to inform their sense of evangelical or covenantal inclusion. Calvinism becomes their “righteousness.” Which means of course that those who don’t share it – or who don’t share their seriousness about it – are treated like outsiders to or corrupters of the faith. I’ve known more than a few folks raised in Reformed traditions for whom a major identity marker of their upbringing was deeming Christians from non-Reformed traditions as less faithful, less intelligent, less serious, less whatever. Like the Judaizers of Paul’s day with circumcision, they have added something to the gospel to make grace-plus the sign of true salvation. In fact, it is dangerously possible that many of the worst revilers and repeat offenders online treat Calvinism as their (self-)righteousness precisely because they are not regenerate and do not have Christ’s imputed or imparted to them. Keep a close watch on your life, as well as your doctrine (1 Tim. 4:16); make sure you don’t treat Calvinism as the marks of who’s really a Christian. The biblical tests for that place greater emphasis on love and Christlike character than they do secondary or tertiary doctrines.

Calvinism as Crusade

This is a common approach of those who did not grow up in Reformed traditions but came to Reformed theology later in their discipleship. For many of them, they have a newfound resentment of their upbringing to go along with their newfound doctrine. They may feel cheated by those in their church background, that Calvinism was hidden from them or stolen from their experience. This bitterness about what was lacking in their past then fuels a sense of injustice in wanting to right those wrongs. “Everyone must know!” So one’s Christian life becomes about wearing Calvinism on the shirt sleeves, preaching the “gospel” of Calvinistic freedom to those in bondage to their ignorance.

The Calvinistic crusader tends to favor Calvinistic watchblogs and watchdogs, online “discernment ministries” of the Reformed persuasion, and other pugilistic types who picture themselves as walking in the very steps of Martin Luther. They’ve come to fix the church. And that means treating those who don’t get with the Reformed program as impediments to the mission and even to the faith. The crusading Calvinist will bulldoze whoever’s necessary to “save” others from the ignorance he himself swam in for too long. He therefore becomes the Glengarry Glenn Ross of the Reformation, barking to himself and to his squad, “Always. Be. Calvinizing.” These guys are absolutely no fun at parties that involve people who aren’t like them.

Calvinism as Compartmentalization

This is a more general theory of one thing inherent to Calvinism philosophically and historically that might lend itself to the temptation toward meanness with others. It basically goes like this: because Reformed theology is a very articulate theology long presented in a rich system of doctrine, the people who resonate with it and who are drawn to it tend to be more systematic-type thinkers, those who appreciate order, categories, etc. This is, no doubt, a good thing. But sometimes when we love order, systems, and categories, we don’t know what to do with Christians and Christian experiences that don’t fit neatly into these compartments.

If we generally like orderliness, we may struggle with so much of the inefficiency of the Christian life in general. Discipleship is a messy process because people are sinners, and besides that, people are also messy and the world is broken. If we love our systems more than people or we only want to deal with people who see the world same as we do or who otherwise fit into our comfortable categories, we’ve turned our Calvinism into a way to compartmentalize our experience rather than as a window through which to see the glory of Christ in his purposes with all people and things.

Calvinism, rightly adhered to, is meant to stir our affections for Christ, not our disdain for our brethren. And if we are frequently charged with treating others in uncharitable ways, the humility necessary to the doctrine ought to produce a humility in its doctrinaires to ask ourselves if our lives actually contradict the doctrine we preach with our mouths.

Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.
— 1 John 3:18

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* Mean Calvinists hate caveats.

20 Quotes from ‘The Gospel-Driven Church’

The Gospel-Driven Church debuted a little over a month ago, and I’ve been keeping an eye on what lines seem to resonate the most with readers, at least according to what I’ve been able to seen on social media. Below are 20 quotables from the book that seem to have landed well with others. Maybe they will with you too.

1. “The preacher of God’s word must remember that at the end of the day it is not creativity or excellence or winsomeness that wins hearts to Christ but the sufficient and powerful word of God.”

2. “What is a gospel-centered church? One that explicitly and intentionally connects its teaching, programs, ministry philosophy, and mission to the content of the gospel . . . A gospel-driven church knows that the gospel isn’t one feature of a church, one thing on a checklist, something useful in an evangelistic program. A gospel-driven church makes the gospel the unifying and motivating factor in everything they say and do.”

3. “In seeker-oriented worship, we direct a steady diet of ‘how to’ at people who have yet to receive a heart full of ‘want to’.”

4. “If you win people to biblical principles but fail to win them to the biblical Christ, you will simply create religious people who lack the power to change. We create tidy unbelievers.”

5. “The fundamental problem for every human being is not an unmet felt need but the unkept law of God. Our primary disconnect is not between ourselves and our best lives but between our lives and our Creator.”

6. “We honor the Spirit with our reliance, not with our self-centered know-how.”

7. “When the gospel is peripheral, occasional, or incidental to our mission and our preaching, we cannot trust that the gospel is truly drawing and shaping those who respond.”

8. “Too much of our Sunday morning worship sets the cart of affections before the horse of belief.”

9. “Reducing reliance upon the Bible or removing it from a worship service in favor of practical help or biblically inspired principles is a sure sign that you don’t know what a worship service is.”

10. “The best motives in the world cannot sanctify unbiblical methods.”

11. “We must distinguish between pragmatism and practicality. The Bible is full of practical application. God has given us commands to obey. Neither applying the Bible nor obeying God is inherently legalistic. But when we assume certain tangible or visible results from our application and obedience, we have turned from practicality to pragmatism and from holiness to legalism.”

12. “The way a church wins its people shapes its people. And consumeristic values and pragmatic methodology win consumers and pragmatists. If they aren’t won by the glory of Christ, they aren’t won to the glory of the Christ.”

13. “Affirming the Bible’s inerrancy is not the same as trusting its sufficiency.”

14. “The quickest way to shut down your church’s missional response to the gospel is to leverage guilt in motivating them to reach their lost friends.”

15. “Your model is only as strong as your mentality.”

16. “People who misunderstand or who feel misunderstood often express criticism in church environments because church is a place where they always expect to feel comfortable. They expect to feel like they belong. When significant change happens, it disrupts that sense of participation. They’re not really mad at you; they’re just hurt from the discomfort of the change . . . You always find out a church’s idols by changing things.”

17. “Remember how patient God was with you before you ‘got it.’ Don’t treat others who are slow to grasp gospel-centrality with the kind of pressure you were not subjected to yourself. People rarely feel leveraged into a genuine comprehension of grace.”

18. “The wider among the leadership the vision is applied and the more consensus there seems to be, the more convincing the vision for change will be to the congregation.”

19. “It is possible to lead a transition to gospel-centrality in a law-centered way. And this will embed an internal defeater in the movement. How can you make sure people don’t get burnt out on ‘trying to be gospel-centered?’ Create a culture of encouragement.”

20. “Preach grace and grace alone — and don’t give up! — and then watch as the metrics of grace emerge to become the measurement of your church’s health over time. Preaching the gospel is the first and most important way to give your church the power it needs to bear fruit for Christ.”

Read reviews of The Gospel-Driven Church from:
– Tim Challies
– The Gospel Coalition (Steve DeWitt)
– Darryl Dash

Order your copy today via Amazon or the book page.