Jared C. Wilson's Blog, page 61

The New Creation

In the beginning, God created my body and mind.

But my heart was without form and void, and darkness was over my soul. And the Spirit of God was hovering over my way and hounding me.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and a divine and supernatural light was imparted to me, illuminating my senses with his glory to behold his glory. And God breathed his Spirit into me and gave me life.

God separated the light from the darkness and brought me into everlasting day.

And God said, “Let there be separation of your life from chaos and death,” and he placed my feet on the solid rock foundation of his promised-land kingdom.

And God said, “Come out from their midst and be separate.” And it was so. God made me holy. And God saw that I was now good by his own decree.

And God said, “Let your heart sprout vegetation, plants yielding seed, the Spiritual fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.” And it was so.

And God said, “Let there be many more of these carriers of my light in the expanse of creation to proclaim the the good news of the Light into the night. And let them be for signs and for seasons, and for days and years, and let them be lights in the expanse of the heavens to give light upon the earth.” And it was so.

And God said, “Let the waters be full of fishers of men and let my Spirit descend like a dove to lead them into all truth.” And God blessed them, saying, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the furthest reaches of the earth with worshipers of God.”

And God had remade us in the image of his Son. And he gave us dominion over demons and the kingdom of hell and promised us the inheritance of the new creation to come.

And God blessed us. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it.”

And God said to us, “It is not good for you to be alone.” So he made out of men the Church, the Body of Christ, that we might help her and she us. And for this reason a man will leave his independence and self-sovereignty and cleave to the Church.

And God saw that it was all good.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.

– 2 Corinthians 5:17

graphic: “The Creation of Man” by Gipsoteca Canoviana

Thingamatizing Christmas

The danger in the seasonal celebration is that we cave to sentimentality and rote nostalgia and thus forget that the meek and mild baby in a manger was nothing short of the opening salvo in the kingdom of heaven revolution consisting in God personally invading earth.

We toss around words this month like “spirit,” “grace,” “peace,” and “hope.” The Bible will not let us have these ideas merely as ideas, as things. They are personal. Thus: “He himself is our peace” (Micah 5:5; Eph. 2:14) and “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Let’s not mess with ethereal virtues, no matter how Christianly gauzed. Leave ethereal virtues to vague saviors. Our Savior is incarnate!

Sinclair Ferguson brings it home:

[R]emember that there isn’t a thing, a substance, or a “quasi-substance” called “grace.” All there is is the person of the Lord Jesus — “Christ clothed in the gospel,” as Calvin loved to put it. Grace is the grace of Jesus. If I can highlight the thought here: there is no “thing” that Jesus takes from Himself and then, as it were, hands over to me. There is only Jesus Himself.

Don’t thingamatize Christmas. Take it personally.

“Duck Dynasty”: Let’s Deal in Real Reality

Phil Robertson, patriarch of A&E’s “Duck Dynasty,” got fired or sanctioned or hiatused or somethin’. Before we start organizing the boycotts or social media petitions or whatever, I think the show’s Christian fans — of which I am one — could use a reality check on a few notes:

1. It will be difficult to prove a case of censorship, marginalization, or oppression when you can’t walk into a mall, grocery store, Wal-Mart, or sporting goods store without running beard-deep into the Robertson clan’s gigantic faces and assorted “Duck Dynasty”-branded trinkets and googaws.

2. We ought to remember that the first amendment does not guarantee anyone’s right to have a show on cable television.

3. What Phil Robertson said about homosexuality to Gentleman’s Quarterly magazine is something nearly all so-called “gentlemen” used to believe, including the part where he said black people were happy before the Civil Rights movement and he never saw racism in Louisiana growing up. Yes, he said that. (Heck, the first time I was personally confronted with the harsh reality of racism against African Americans was in Louisiana, and I’d only been in the state a few hours.) Also, Phil Robertson has an adopted grandson who is biracial.

5. I sometimes wonder what believers in the 2/3 world would think if they knew Western evangelicals get uptight about this kind of thing. We need to watch our rhetoric. It of course will not serve us well to pretend like the cultural wind isn’t shifting — indeed, it’s already shifted — but we need to be sober-minded. The firing of a millionaire reality show participant isn’t just a first world problem — it’s a one-percenter problem. As the cultural winds shifted against the early church, the believers in the Bible did not protest so much as praise. And what they suffered — and what our brothers and sisters around the world daily suffer — make this concern pale whiter than Miss Kay’s dumplin’s.

This doesn’t mean we should bury our heads in the sand about genuine free speech and free exercise violations in our theoretically free nation; it just means we ought to be more circumspect than reactionary, more wise than whiny, more joyful than outraged. As “reality” just got the ironic quote-marks taken off of it, maybe this cultural shifting will serve towards a sifting of the “real” Christians from the real ones, the cultural from the Spiritual. Evangelicals need to get real.

UPDATE:

Based on the responses to this piece, apparently a few clarifications and corrections are in order.

1. I agree with Phil Robertson’s views on homosexuality. I’m not sure why it has been deduced otherwise, but apparently I need to make that clear.

2. I do not agree with A&E’s decision to suspend him from the show. This was not a point I cared to make in the piece, but I probably should have. However, I do think it is their right to employ whatever talent they believe best represents the message they want to send to their viewers. Just as it is your right to stop being a viewer.

3. I do not believe that homosexuality and race are parallel issues, and that is certainly not the point I was trying to make in #3 above, nor was I trying to say Phil is a racist. (My inclusion of the factoid about the adopted grandson was actually meant to be a “reality check” against that conclusion.) I was only trying to say, obviously very poorly, that evangelicals eager to defend his take on homosexuality should be aware of his words on race, which could be construed as racially insensitive. A few commenters took me to task about my summary of Robertson’s statement, pointing out he did not say “all blacks were happy during Jim Crow,” but only that the ones he knew were. Point taken; correction received. I should have summarized his statement more accurately. I could press a different point to question the legitimacy of the white guy speaking for the black experience at the time, but perhaps I should quit while I’m behind.

4. Point number 4 was boycotted by A&E. I have sent in Jimmy Carter, Desmond Tutu, Bono, and Pope Francis to advocate for its release, since they are the only Christians the liberal media will listen to.

Re: Mark Driscoll

There are lots of people who want Mark Driscoll to fail and fall. I am not one of them. I love and respect Pastor Mark. His preaching helped saved my life. I have profited immensely from his ministry, especially in my early days of church planting and trying to figure out what missional ministry could look like among young adults. I do not know Mark personally. We have never exchanged so much as email messages. But we have mutual friends. He was kind enough to endorse my first book. During my time with the Docent Research Group, I did some editing work on a few of his book manuscripts. When I wrote the piece linked above, he was gracious enough to send a note of thanks and encouragement through his personal assistant. It touched me deeply. I want to repeat: I do not want Pastor Mark to fail and fall. I just want him to walk in step with the truth of the gospel.

I would “confront” him to his face if I could. Even though this is not a Matthew 18 situation, and Pastor Mark has not sinned against me personally, last week I tried to contact him privately through the two avenues available to me, but I received no response. I did not demand or even expect one. I know Pastor Mark is a very busy man, and since we do not really know each other, he has no obligation to me, and I don’t mean to suggest he does. He doesn’t. And if I’d had the opportunity to speak to him, as I requested, I would have done so respectfully and gently. I do hope what I’m writing right now will not be read as unkind or argumentative or ungraciously accusatory.

But I have an obligation to Pastor Mark. Because his preaching was so instrumental in my gospel wakefulness and because his writing was so influential on my early ministry – in large part because of his bold and unapologetic willingness to risk offending me in telling me the truth about myself and holding up the healing and empowering truth of Christ – I feel as though I owe it to him to speak thusly to him. Or about him, as the case may be, since I do not want to presume he would read this.

And I feel I have an obligation to the young men coming up into ministry, exploring the gospel-centered paradigm, learning and studying and practicing missional ministry wherever God has called them. I don’t want them to think the way to lead is to insulate from critique, ignore challenges, and adapt to some echo chamber of mutual admiration. I don’t want young men looking up to men like Mark or listening to lesser voices like my own to think gospel-centered ministry means passivity and silence in the face of obvious needs or, worse, aggression in the area of reputation, dominance and swagger in leadership.

Pastor Mark has, in my estimation, been distancing himself from the so-called “neo-Reformed” movement or the gospel-centered tribe for a few years. Stepping down from the council of The Gospel Coalition and from the presidency of the Acts29 Network and aligning more and more with voices in the “attractional” or “church growth” crowd, he has been communicating his shift away from one tribe and into another (perhaps a new one of his own cultivation) for quite some time. I am not insinuating sin in any of that at all; the attractional guys are our brothers in Christ. We tend to do ministry differently, of course, and I won’t lie in saying I think they largely approach church – or preaching specifically and the worship gathering generally, at least – in a distinctly wrong way, but it is certainly Pastor Mark’s right to partner with whom he wants and find his ministry kinship wherever God leads him.

But I guess what I’m saying is that it’s OK for the gospel-centered guys to “own” Pastor Mark’s apparent disowning of us. I am not trying to be divisive here; I am only trying to recognize the division that has already taken place. We have accepted the distancing to a large extent without comment. The occasional critical book review aside, we have found less and less to say about the growing division between his ministry trajectory and ours — at least, since the Elephant Room 2 controversy. I think for the most part we have been content to simply consider him “released.”

I stopped listening to Pastor Mark’s podcasts about five years ago and stopped reading his books a few years later, mainly because I became discouraged by his drift from substantive expository preaching. He seemed to have moved away from a rigid focus on the text and adopted more of a “start with the text, expand to a rant” kind of preaching style, and it grew tiresome to me. Even so and ever since, I have publicly defended Pastor Mark a few times over the last few years on a few points. I have disagreed with a few of his thoughts publicly, as well, but never in any substantive way, keeping the more concerning disagreements to myself.

I respected him too much to even appear to add to the growing animosity against him by his increasingly vicious critics. Some of those voices have spilled plenty of virtual ink about myself, not to the extent they have about Pastor Mark but still enough for me to know that they do not have their target’s best interests in mind and that, further, they won’t really be appeased, even with a sincere apology. I know what it’s like to have lies told about me, to have profane graffiti and perverse accusations hurled my way by strangers doing their “processing” online at the expense of unwitting and unwilling participants.

But after giving it some time – the Internet hates patience – to pray and think and ask trusted people to test my motivations, I think the time for silence, for me anyway, is over.

It’s not just about plagiarism. As a writer who learned to provide meticulous documentation from some very meticulous English teachers in high school, for me it is a no-brainer to cite sources. As a writer who works hard to create original content with a certain level of quality and style – what level is certainly subjective and up to the reader, I admit – for me it is a no-brainer to deem plagiarism as not just dishonest but unjust and unfair and lazy. As a writer who worked for the Docent Research Group, I know that citations of sources were diligently provided. And I’ve seen the original research brief provided to Pastor Mark for the 1&2 Peter study guide. The footnotes were there.

But it’s not just about plagiarism. I can believe the cut and paste was made without the right footnotes out of carelessness, that it was not carried out with an intent to deceive. It happens. So, no, it’s not just about plagiarism. I can believe Pastor Mark is not culpable in this. But he is responsible. If you understand the distinction. It’s about failing to take responsibility for the book with one’s name on it. It’s about throwing loyal friends under the bus. It is contrary to the kingdom of God we are called to proclaim and embody for under-shepherds to horde credit and shift blame.

This is not merely about lazy writing (or lazy supervision of someone else’s writing). It’s about what this one latest incident in the accumulating evidence of Pastor Mark’s empire-building says to us, his brothers and his customers. Pastoral leadership is difficult, not least because it demands the cross-taking humility of taking responsibility. To take responsibility for books that have your name on them, sure, but also for a public ministry sadly increasing in image-projecting, publicity-stunting, and gospel-obscuring. This latest episode is just the latest example indicating an evident lack of accountability and personal responsibility. All along, I’ve trusted that Pastor Mark had the right people around him, speaking the hard truths to him. I assumed those voices were there and authorized by him to keep him honest. I no longer believe this.

Pastor Mark, if you’re reading this — you are losing us. Forget about the “haters.” We ain’t them. We are the ones who love you, who want to see you succeed and prevail. And we won’t stop, no matter what tribe you’re in or which conference stage you take. But we want you to take responsibility for your actions and your attitude. It does not commend grace. We want you to walk in repentance. We want you to seek the way of Christ in more humility, to drop the image and the posturing, and remind us of what drew us to you in the first place: the fame of Christ’s name, not the protection of your own. What would the truth of the gospel have you do? What would adorn the gospel? What would make Jesus look big? I believe it would be a reversal of the trajectory of pride you have been on. I’m asking you to turn around and show us why we were so drawn to you in the beginning. I’m asking you to show us Jesus. He has become lost in your shadow.

Mark, you don’t owe me anything; you’ve already given me so much. I love you. And I am willing to lose friends and favor in posting this publicly. But I think it’s worth it, because I think you’re worth it and the integrity of gospel ministry is worth it.

10 Best Books I Read This Year (2013)

Read this year, not necessarily published this year.



10. Bring Up the Bodies by Hilary Mantel

This breathless episode following key players in the Tudor empire — King Henry, Anne Boleyn, Oliver Cromwell, Jane Seymour, et.al. — won the 2012 Man Booker Prize as well as a host of other awards, and for good reason. The thrill of the king’s court intrigue, with all its grandiose ambition, malicious grievances, and Machiavellian conspiracies, is matched by the thrill of Mantel’s writing. You don’t have to be a history buff to get engrossed in this book — I’m certainly not — but it probably doesn’t hurt to have some interest or familiarity with the period.

9. As You Go: Creating a Missional Culture of Gospel-Centered Students by Alvin Reid

Lots of people have promised to write the book on gospel-centered student ministry, but Alvin Reid actually did it. Reid, a professor of evangelism and student ministry at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary, lays out the inherited and persisting problems of modern approaches to youth ministry without belaboring them, then provides concise, compelling, and actionable solutions in converting student ministry to the centrality of the gospel message and the necessity of gospel mission. A must-read for every student minister and student ministry worker.

8. The Juvenilization of American Christianity by Thomas Bergler

While we’re on the subject of student ministry, how is it exactly that “big church” started resembling more and more a bigger budget youth rally? Bergler takes an historical and sociological approach to demonstrate the impact of the rise of “youth culture” in the 40′s and 50′s on the Christian culture of the 80′s, 90′s, and today. The critique is somewhat academic but never dry and certainly incisive and revealing. I found this book one of the more helpful sources as I prepare for my next book project, a take on the attractional church model.

7. The Lost City of Z by David Grann

I picked up this book in an airport bookstore while traveling and I could barely put it down afterward. I got lost in the thicket of explorer Perry Fawcett’s 1925 getting lost in the thicket of the Amazon jungle. Fawcett, a sort of larger-than-life British raconteur-scientist and man’s-man fantastist (think of Wes Anderson’s Steve Zissou maybe, eighty years removed) was determined to find the El Dorado-like “lost city of Z,” and venturing boldly into the jungle, never returned. Eighty years later, journalist David Grann went in after him. The story of what he discovered, interlaced with the story of Fawcett’s own mysterious expedition, is spellbinding.

6. The Exorcist by William Peter Blatty

I’m trying to figure out how I might recommend this book, and I’m not sure that I even should. It is certainly not for the faint of heart. I have not seen the infamous film adaptation, and I have no plans to, so I have no way of saying how it might compare. My hunch is that while the book contains it’s share of horrific scenes, some involving sexual references and profanity, the movie’s depictions were meant to shock and entertain. The book instead seems to . . . warn. Blatty, a devout Catholic himself, published this story of an agnostic priest dealing with the apparent demonic possession of a little girl — allegedly based on a real incident — right as the pseudo-spiritualities of the New Agey 60′s were giving way to the hedonistic and therapeutic 70′s, and it remains as countercultural a treatise now as I imagine it did then. In the midst of “I’m okay and you’re okay,” where wrongs of all kinds are pinned on past traumas and even past lives, Blatty has the audacity to say there is such a thing as perversity and blasphemy and that while many wring their hands for the cause of this and that injustice and atrocity, looking for convenient scapegoats within the smokescreen of “dysfunction,” we ought to be on the lookout for something more real and more dangerous: personal evil.

5. Kingdom Come by Sam Storms

Storms’s book, subtitled “The Amillennial Alternative,” is the first book on amillennialism that I’ve read as an already convinced amillennialist, so he didn’t have much convincing of me to do. What he did convince me of is that his book is now the go-to text for anyone interested in evaluating the amillennial position in their eschatological exploration. Storms covers all the relevant texts in detail — the book is big and therefore comprehensive — but with a helpfully pastoral voice belying his scholarly credentials. Storms evaluates the other positions on the relevant texts winsomely and with an irenic tone. He leaves virtually no stone unturned, and yet the book never bogs down. Imminently readable, this is the book I would recommend on amillennialism from here on out (Hoekema’s a close second).

4. Going Clear: Scientology, Hollywood, and The Prison of Belief by Lawrence Wright

This is the second expose of Scientology and its founder L. Ron Hubbard I have read in as many years. The first was Janet Reitman’s Inside Scientology, which made my Ten Best list last year. Wright’s book covers lots of the same ground as Reitman’s, but he also covers a lot more and in a much more expansive way. Driven largely by Hollywood writer/director Paul Haggis’ much-heralded defection from the cult and his ensuing whistleblowing, Wright’s book is meticulous in research and astounding in details. There is certainly a tabloid-esque fascination to this inside story, but I’m not sure that’s what quite gets at the attraction. For me anyway, there’s something about the actualization of hucksterism, conspiracy theories, the lure of the “gnosis,” the promise of self-improvement, and the exploitation of the simultaneously ambitious and vulnerable that is profoundly instructive and heartbreaking. The story of Scientology is sort of the “what if?” mirror image of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness by Satan. What if he’d said “yes” to it all?

3. Rhythms of Grace by Mike Cosper

I don’t know if your pastor and worship leader will read this, but they should. The story of the gospel through the lens of worship and the story of your worship gathering through the lens of the gospel. If you want your church’s rock star to learn about liturgy without rolling his eyes, this is the book. And as it explores the centrality of the biblical narrative for church artistry, it is itself a very artful book. Mike Cosper has given us a gift. Let’s not squander it.

2. Supernatural Living for Natural People by Ray Ortlund

My favorite pastor (Ray Ortlund) with a short pastoral exposition of my favorite chapter (Romans 8). It doesn’t much better than this for a straight shot of doxological whisky. But I shan’t say more, because, assuming he’s reading this, praise makes Ray nervous. (Read this book!)

1. The Glory of Christ by John Owen

Well, the oldest is usually the best. Page after page of this classic from the Puritan pastor John Owen offers richness in the beauty of the risen Savior. Owen is operating from the 2 Corinthians 3:18 principle that beholding is becoming, writing, “Some talk much of imitating Christ and following his example. But no man will ever become ‘like him’ by trying to imitate his behaviour and life if they know nothing of the transforming power of beholding his glory” (p.21). So Owen sets about displaying the glory of Christ as found in God’s word. Some of my favorite moments in the past year involve just sitting outside with this book and a pen and drinking deeply of Owen’s preached gospel. This book helped me see Jesus more clearly and love Jesus more deeply, and that’s the best thing I could say about a book.

2012 list

2011 list

Too Big Not To Fail

Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city and a tower with its top in the heavens, and let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.”

– Genesis 11:4

If we look at Babel as the prototype for the pursuit of fame and power, we see a few interesting things by way of diagnosis. First, the pursuit of renown is really a pursuit of significance. Why do I want you to notice me, to tell me how great I am? Not because I fundamentally trust or value your opinion, but because I fundamentally distrust any notion that I’m anything in anywise special. The proof in that is that one ounce of praise from a few isn’t enough; I want more from many. Secondly, the pursuit of renown is the result of fear. “Let us make a name for ourselves, lest we be dispersed over the face of the whole earth.” We seek security in attention.

Like the Babelists, we build our towers, not knowing the great dangerous irony — that the stronger we get, the more vulnerable we become. The fall is prefaced by pride. The split second before the great collapse is the proudest we’ve ever been.

The lesson appears plain: if you really want to fall, get big.

Mary sings, “he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts” (Luke 1:51). By building our towers, making our name for ourselves, we are stone by stone actually contributing to the very thing we are trying to avoid: getting “scattered,” being “dispersed.”

King Uzziah is a cautionary tale. He was “marvelously helped, til he was strong” (2 Chronicles 26:15). When he was strong, he got proud (v.26). He got big. We think bigness is the way. We think bigness solves lots of problems. We think bigness is safety. We think we can get too big to fail. But it’s the other way around. We see over and over — outside of ourselves, of course — that it’s possible to get too big not to fail.

Which is why the greatest man ever to live (Matthew 11:11), aside from Jesus himself, knew the real secret to success, the real work of significance, the real strength of safety:

He must increase, but I must decrease.

– John 3:30

The Fullness of God Dwells Embryonically

And the angel answered her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be called holy—the Son of God.”
– Luke 1:35

Really, the Advent season runs from Genesis 3 onward, and Christmas Day is when the miracle prophesied in Luke 1:35 is fulfilled. For those of us who believe personhood can be derived from Psalm 139:13-15 and Job 31:15, we believe the Incarnation did not begin at Jesus’ birth but at his conception. And if this is so, when Colossians 2:9 says, “For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily,” we know that the fullness of deity dwelled in fertilized ovum.

Will the Empire State Building occupy a doghouse? Will a killer whale fit inside an ant?

And here we are told that omnipotence, omniscience, omnipresence, utter eternalness and holiness dwelled in a tiny person. This makes Santa coming down a chimney seem a logistical cakewalk.

“The head of all rule and authority” (Col. 2:10) had one of those jelly-necked wobbly baby heads. The government rested on his baby-fatted shoulders (Is. 9:6).

This miracle of addition is important. We must hold it tightly or lose the bigness of the Incarnation. God came as unborn child so that Christ would experience all of humanity. And he experienced all of humanity so that we might receive all of him for all of us.

If God came as a vulnerable, needful, weak baby, we have no need to fear for our own vulnerability, needfulness, and weakness. He emptied himself (Phil. 2:7) so that we would not see our own emptiness as a hopeless cause. “As you received him” — desperate, helpless, desirous — “so walk in him” (Col. 2:6). The miracle of the God-Baby proclaims the gospel’s specialty: rescue of the helpless.

Giving Gifts is Good

There can be an undercurrent of guilt-tripping in some of the recent campaigns to redeem Christmas generosity. Programs like Advent Conspiracy are great. The subversion of materialism and consumerist idolatry is a very, very good thing. But let’s be careful not to take pride in it or to shame those who, you know, buy gifts for each other.

One of my concerns is that programs like Advent Conspiracy or even rhetoric meant to shame Black Friday shoppers become ways materialistic Christian suburbanites do penance for their year-long accumulation. But year-end rebuke of consumerism doesn’t mitigate consumerism the rest of the year. Instead — and how’s this for a novel concept? — let’s just be generous people, year-round.

There’s nothing wrong with buying gifts to give friends and family.

Flee consumerism this holiday season. But flee also smug abstention.

Pastors Getting Real

A choice excerpt from this short CT interview with Peacemakers Ministries’ Dale Pyne:

How does a pastor develop humility to resist the idol worship and the pressure to perform?

We all must remember who we are in Christ and who we are not without him. We must genuinely redirect the glory and praise given us to the Lord (1 Cor. 10:31). Pastors are no different than you and I. They can only resist the temptation for self-glorification by staying in the Word, on their knees, and getting connected in a high-integrity accountability relationship with one or several spiritually mature individuals. It would bless pastors if church leaders who oversee pastors know who the pastor is connected with and could establish a way to verify ongoing accountability without compromising confidentiality.

There are different levels of accountability, of course. The kind I’m speaking of is personal. It’s accountability for the leader’s personal relationships and life. So if a pastor is having moral temptations, he needs to be able to go to someone in confidence. The pastor needs to have people to go to. And they must trust that the relationship is a confidential one.

In addition, I’d encourage pastors to be vulnerable from the pulpit. When I’m speaking and I tell a third-party story, people might say, “That’s very interesting.” But when I tell a story that involves me and my own sin, then people say, “Wow, here is Dale. He’s a leader, and I respect him. But he’s telling me that he’s just like me.”

If we’re too busy denying and protecting and putting on a church face, then the congregation perceives that the pastor has it all together. We say to ourselves, Wow, I am so far from that pastor. I am unworthy. Why isn’t God working in me the way God’s working in him? The people start to elevate them. It’s not all about the pastor, but that transparency releases the congregation. It helps the pastor be real. And releases the congregant to accept who they are and pursue hope in Christ.

Hired Hands and Platforms

From The Pastor’s Justification:

I want to think of the flock God has loaned out to me not as items on a task list but as people made in the image of God, precious and broken and beautiful and sinful, like me. I want to see them as people, not problems. I want to see them not as obstacles in the way of some vague missional purpose but as the missional purpose themselves. The minute I begin seeing God’s people as problems to be solved (or avoided) is the minute I’ve denied the heart of Christ.

Carl Trueman quotes an email he received:

I worshipped this Sunday with my in-laws at their home church which is pastored by a man featured at this year’s [conference name supplied] with 6000 of my closest friends. My father-in-law has been dying for five years (renal failure) and is very likely within months of his death. I can’t get a pastor or elder from this congregation to come and visit him once, let alone make it a weekly priority to help him die well—in the full confidence of the Lord Jesus. But there’s time, mind you, for (yet another) conference.

Trusting that this fellow really had tried to get an elder from his father-in-law’s church to visit him before he dies, this is unconscionable. I know a pastor of a church who once said to someone asking about hospital visitation that he didn’t do it. Ever. Somebody would visit, but not him. He wasn’t saying it in terms of disdain, just matter-of-factly that that’s not in his particular job description.

I understand an individual pastor not making every (or even most) hospital/deathbed visits. But for the life of me I cannot understand an individual pastor making none.

(Pastors, with a public ministry: Your platform is not your grounds for pastoral legitimacy. It’s the other way around. And you might be able to fool your readers or wider audience, but you won’t be able to fool your local church for long. And you will never be able to fool God. There will be a reckoning for “hired hands” who don’t feed his sheep.)