Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled Conversion.

If you’ve been a pastor for a while, it’s likely that you’ve seen some people convert from difficult backgrounds. The Lord saved me from a very difficult past and has given me a ministry to many who come from a similar place. In this piece, I am going to share two conversion stories: one “clean” story and one messy. In God’s kindness to me, I have seen people like John and Jane (who you’re soon to meet) come to saving faith through the witness of my local church. In considering the similarities and differences in John and Jane’s conversions, I pray you grow in boldness, discernment, and patience as you faithfully proclaim the gospel and help people live it out in their own lives.

John, a college student who has been attending your Sunday services for some time, asks to speak with you. You meet up and he tells you about his growing conviction over his sin and of his need to repent and place his faith in Christ (those aren’t the terms he uses, but that’s what he means). You feel sure that he is being genuine and so you pray with him and urge him to trust in Christ. Soon after, John tells you that he is now a Christian and so you put him in touch with a mature believer in the church to begin the discipleship process.

As the weeks and months progress, you begin to observe a real spiritual hunger in John as he devours the Bible, attends a small group, and comes regularly to a class on Christian doctrine. John begins to pray earnestly in the public meetings, and he volunteers to serve the church body in a number of different ways. So far, so good. John appears to be “soundly converted.”

Conversion Doesn’t Always Look the Same 

Now, let’s change the story to Jane, a single mom of three with an addiction to cannabis and prescription painkillers. What does conversion look like for her? Should we think about “lowering the bar” for people like Jane from so-called “messy” backgrounds? In other words, should we expect less spiritual fruit from Jane than we do from John? And should we expect the spiritual maturation process to be slower, too?

Back to Jane and her cannabis and pill addiction. She is in your office talking about feeling convicted of sin and of her desire to put her faith in Jesus for salvation (again, those aren’t the terms she uses, but that’s what she means). As with John, you feel that she is being genuine, and when she tells you a short time later that she’s now trusting in Jesus, you put her in touch with a mature lady in the church to disciple her.

However, unlike John, Jane is irregular when it comes to attending Sunday services. Often she turns up late, if she bothers turning up at all. When she does appear, the children are normally loud and fidgety and cause all manner of distractions to those around them. A few members have commented that there is often a strong smell coming off her when she sits near them (later identified as cannabis).

When asked about how she is doing spiritually, she becomes very animated about her faith and is proud of the fact that she has drastically cut down her cannabis consumption. The lady who has been discipling Jane reports that she is sporadic in her attendance at Bible study and that she has only been to one small group meeting since professing faith in Christ.

You start to have doubts about the genuineness of Jane’s conversion.

Things come to a head one evening when a church member calls to inform you that Jane has been arrested and that the children are being cared for by a neighbor. You arrange to meet this member and Jane once she’s been released. A short time later, back in Jane’s apartment, you sit down to listen to the story once the children are in bed.

You try to keep an open mind, but even before Jane begins, you’ve become more convinced that she’s not a Christian. However, you keep these thoughts to yourself for now.

A Difficult and Complex Background 

As you listen to Jane’s story, you learn that: (1) the father of her eldest son is in jail for murder, (2) the father of her daughter died of an overdose a couple of years back, and (3) the father of her youngest son is the reason she was arrested. She has a restraining order against him, but last night he got drunk and broke in and started attacking her. In self-defense, she beat him back with a metal pipe, the one she keeps near her bed for protection. In the ensuing scuffle, they made so much noise that the neighbors called the police.

When the police arrived on the scene, they discovered Jane in the garden waving the pipe and swearing at the top of her lungs as her assailant was lying in the street with blood pouring out of a head wound. She angrily resisted arrest and was verbally abusive to the police officers. She is due in court in a few months to face charges.

After allowing things to settle for a day, you arrange to meet with Jane again, this time with her mentor at your office. She breaks down in tears and cries out: “I know I have let Jesus down, but what was I supposed to do? I thought he was going to hurt my kids again. And I stopped whacking him after his head burst open. Normally, I’d have carried on until he wasn’t moving. But I’ve been working on my anger. Do you think Jesus will forgive me?” You are taken aback by this sudden outburst of contrition. Still, you probe further to find out more about what seems to be her lack of interest in spiritual things.

“Can you tell me about your sporadic attendance at Bible study?” you ask gently.

“I’m embarrassed because I can’t really read that well,” she replies.

“And the midweek prayer meeting?”

“I’m usually dealing with the kids,” she replies. “The eldest has ADHD, and the other two won’t stay with anybody but me. And I don’t want to bring them to the meetings ‘cause I know they disturb people. I can tell the way people look at me. So, I figured it was better to stay here and pray rather than bug the church people.”

“What about smoking cannabis? That’s not good for you—not to mention it’s illegal. Christians shouldn’t be doing that,” you say.

“I know. I smoke it ‘cause of my anxiety and depression. I just find it better than the pills they give me. I can function better when I smoke weed than when I’m on my pills. I know it’s a sin and I have cut down, but I will try to stop. And I need the painkiller ‘cause my ex shattered my arm and broke my shoulder last year.”

You pray with Jane, assure her of Jesus’s love for her, and agree to offer more pastoral support and to continue to work with her spiritual mentor. You also leave somewhat chastened by the way you’ve prejudged her spiritual condition.

A few weeks later, you preach on the topic of baptism and both Jane and John approach you and express a desire to be baptized. What should you do? Jane is still struggling with various issues, but when she attends, she is fully engaged. Does she have to clean up her act a bit more to qualify for baptism and membership? On the other hand, will John sail through the process because he has no publicly discernible sin patterns?

In addition to these questions, pastors have more than the individual to consider. We naturally wonder how it will look to the community if the church publicly affirms the faith of a woman known for her drug use and who, just a short time ago, was arrested for assault and breach of the peace. And how do we answer the questions of members who don’t have the full story of Jane’s situation? Might they not understandably be questioning her conversion, just as you did?

Reminders for “Messy” Situations 

There are rarely easy answers to situations like Jane’s, which must be considered on a case-by-case basis. And given the complex factors involved, it’s understandable that pastors and churches might come to different conclusions about the same individual. With that in mind, I’d like to offer some helpful reminders as you and your church seek to discern whether someone from a “messy” background is converted.

First, all sinners, regardless of past trauma, messiness of life, socioeconomic background, or educational attainment must be converted the same way—through repentance and faith in Christ alone.

Second, God demands sinless perfection from every single member of the human race. I have yet to discover a caveat or a backdoor provision for those of us born into abusive and chaotic backgrounds. Nor is there a different standard for those who’ve suffered terrible trauma or for those who struggle to read and write. We never lower the bar when it comes to preaching the gospel.

Third, evidence for conversion should be evaluated over a period of time. When I was first converted, there were a number of behaviors that I still engaged in that would scandalize many Christians. For instance, I still smoked tobacco for some time, which some Christians have an issue with. I had immediately stopped all illegal drug taking (and selling), and smoking made that bearable in the early months. I also swore like a trooper (particularly from my Christian friend’s perspective!) even though my language had improved considerably. Before my conversion, everybody I knew swore. I grew up being sworn at. Most of those words were a normal part of my vocabulary, so changing that took some time. I figured that swearing wasn’t as bad as stealing and fighting, so I worked at dealing with those sins early on in my walk with Jesus.

Eventually I did stop smoking, although more for physical reasons than spiritual ones (which some Christians might debate!), and I stopped swearing as I spent more time with Christian company. My point is this: some of those things were easy to stop while others were more deeply ingrained and took time to address. If you didn’t know my background in those early days after my conversion, you would have been convinced that I was not saved. Be wary of premature judgements in both directions. Don’t affirm a profession of faith too soon, but don’t deny it too soon either. Time and patience are key.

Fourth, clearly communicate to new believers the seriousness of all sin. A good gauge of genuine conversion is how they respond to being spiritually challenged, especially in areas they didn’t even consider to be a problem!

Fifth, train the church, including your fellow pastors, to be gracious and discerning when dealing with new converts from difficult backgrounds. We need to learn to recognize which behaviors to challenge and which to address at a later date. For example, I am going to prioritize challenging a new convert about their abuse of prescription medication over the fact that they might be a smoker.

Again, all of these things take time and discernment, patience and perseverance. They take prayer and a commitment to teaching people the whole counsel of God. They take a local church committed to long-term discipleship and spiritual care. Sooner or later, true conversion becomes apparent by the fruit it produces (or fails to produce).

The post What Conversion Looks Like in Messy People (Like Me) appeared first on 9Marks.

Brad Edwards, The Reason for Church: Why the Body of Christ Still Matters in an Age of Anxiety, Division, and Radical Individualism. Zondervan, 2025. 240 pp.

When many of us first read David Wells’s No Place for Truth back in the day, we felt like we did when we saw our first Trans Am. You know who you are—don’t deny it. I know, Christian cultural analysis is more than just “cool” or “awesome.” It’s public theology for evangelism. But shouldn’t it be at least a little thrilling to apply Christian logic to public trends?

The world never tires of rephrasing the Serpent’s question, “Did God really say . . .?” Our age now rallies around a therapeutic spirituality, justified by victimhood as a new virtue, expressed through social media, aflame with anti-institutionalism. That leaves the local church looking so . . . 1900s, which implies we need not just a reason for God but a reason for church.

The title of Brad Edwards’s book, The Reason for Church, tips us off that Edwards hews more to the apologetics of Tim Keller than to the systematics of David Wells. Edwards is an intellectually sophisticated critic of the meta-modern malaise. Thankfully, he loves Christ and the church more than anything in this world. He pastors The Table, a PCA congregation in Colorado that subscribes to the Westminster Confession of Faith.

This book earned Christianity Today’s 2025 Book of the Year for its well-informed cultural analysis, penetrating insights, shrewd applications, and flecks of gospel gold. After reading it, I was not surprised to learn The Reason for Church also earned Edwards The Gospel Coalition First-Time Author Award. Edwards turns phrases like pancakes, but he’s not a show-off. He’s heartfelt, and he’s got personal stories from ministry in his own local church that verify and illustrate his analysis and applications. He writes like he’s done this before.

Approach 

Edwards articulates his social critique of late modernity as Burkean conservatism, focused through the political lens of Yuval Levin and Jonah Goldberg, filtered through the sociological insight of Charles Murray, and lit by the psychological findings of Jonathan Haidt. The “little platoons” of local mediating institutions that put us shoulder to shoulder with people across the political aisle are disappearing (79, 93; think Putnam’s Bowling Alone). We are fracturing the republic into politically homogeneous ghettos by ZIP code. With no buffer between the individual and the political, everything becomes political, impersonal, ultimate . . . and contentious.

Diagnosis 

Today, individualism hijacks individuality such that self becomes sacrosanct. Boomers built churches on Peter Drucker’s pragmatism, which ended up offering Sunday consumers “a Coldplay concert with a TED talk” (14, 16). The church’s customer-is-king technique only manipulates our Main Character Syndrome, making church a provider of goods and services, and excusing us for treating each other as non-player participants in a reality where self is still the star of the show (47–48).

Therapy teaches us to prize intuitional over institutional spiritualities (28–35, channeling Philip Rieff and Carl Trueman), so people retreat from churches that call them to repent, choosing instead safe spaces that affirm them in sin. Social media disintegrates real community and counterfeits true liturgy with its digital newsfeeds, memes, retweets, and long-form posts (49). Identity politics and strict binary partisanship back us into a civic discourse of negation—the anti-vision, “a motivating ‘why’ defined by what you are against” (75). Fighting the anti-vision, in turn, justifies a virtuous victimhood that weaponizes compassion to coerce change (93).

As Edwards narrates the modern “Pilgrim’s Regress,” he peppers it with culturally seasoned articulations of the gospel. “Jesus’ love spurned safety and absorbed catastrophic harm to save those consumed with saving themselves” (45). “It is a church’s identity in Christ and shared affinity in the gospel that makes political diversity possible and non-polarizing” (74). “Rather than making meaning by making enemies, Jesus chose instead to die for them—for us—in love” (84). “Jesus will always be the greater victim, and it was the sin of the oppressed and oppressor alike that put him there” (106). As the kids say, spittin’ bars.

Prescription 

Gospel and church, then, are uniquely positioned to cure the ills of late or meta-modernity. End Part 1. Enter the local church, which redeems individuality from the jaws of individualism, displaces us from the main character role, and integrates us into the community where Christ is the Main Character. We go from being irrelevant extras to playing important yet subsidiary roles in God’s plan of redemption.

As Part 2 begins, we anticipate less cultural critique, more constructive ecclesiology. The pattern, though, continues to be heavy cultural analysis with the end of each chapter positioning gospel and church as the sociocultural solution. As a doctor, Edwards’s handwriting is clear as day on the diagnosis; it’s less legible when he’s writing the prescription.

Edwards clearly believes Jesus lived the life we should have lived and died the death we should have died (158). But why did Jesus do that? To what end? The most sustained theology of the gospel appears in an Augustinian metanarrative filtered through Cornelius Plantinga (157–58).

• Creation: “everything was the way it was supposed to be.” (read: posse peccare)

• Fall: “now nothing is the way it is supposed to be.” (read: non posse non peccare)

• Redemption: “some things can be as they’re supposed to be.” (read: posse non peccare)

• Restoration: “everything will be as it is supposed to be . . . always and forevermore.” (read: non posse peccare)

Evaluation 

Sounds orthodox enough . . . until you listen for what’s not said. Only then do you notice a screaming silence. Nowhere do we hear of God’s wrath. We read “shalom was shattered.” We read of death. We read “we have inherited their enmity, and in our attitudes and actions toward God and each other, we perpetuate the physical and spiritual death they welcomed into the world” (157). Our greatest problem, apparently, is our own attitude toward God and others.

What of God’s attitude toward us? Is that a problem? Is that a reason Jesus died? How did our sin, and Jesus’s atonement, change God’s attitude toward us? How does that message figure into the reason for church? We are left asking, Did Jesus die primarily to solve our identity and loneliness epidemics? Or did Jesus die primarily to suffer the eternal wrath of the inflexibly righteous God against us for our sins?

I realize this is a cultural apologetic for the church. Still, what gospel will our unbelieving friends hear when we get them there? The closest we get to a theology of atonement for the meta-modern sinner is that “our loving Creator co-opted all our evil and suffering to rescue us from ourselves” (157). Ourselves? Rescue us from ourselves? No. Jesus died to rescue us from God’s wrath.

Or take this statement: “Jesus Christ gave his life to flip individualism’s script for [nobodies] like you and me” (161). Okay. I can get there. Jesus will have the prize for which he died, an inheritance of nations. Fair enough. But with no context of propitiation either behind us or on the horizon, we might be forgiven for thinking that “Jesus Christ gave his life to flip individualism’s script” sounds sociological, not theological; more temporal, less eternal.

Anyone who can analyze and articulate radical individualism this well can do the same for penal substitution if he wants to.  So . . . does he want to? Without that, The Reason for Church feels like a sociologically derived ecclesiology coated with a thin varnish of atonement. It’s as robust an ecclesiology as you can have, minus propitiation—which is concerning.

He similarly defines the dynamic of gospel obedience—even the Greek words for “grace” and “faith”—in sociological terms of Roman patronage and reciprocity (173–78). Christ is our divine patron, favoring us with his charis. We are the helpless clients, reliant on him through pistis. Perhaps that’s fine as an illustration. But to build a dynamic of gospel obedience from a sociologically constructed meaning of charis is, for me at least, a bridge too far. “When an ancient Greek person heard the word charis, they would naturally think of the flow of patronage all around them” (175). He makes the corresponding move with pistis as a reciprocal response to charis. But that’s more analogical than exegetical.

To conclude, then, that we are actually in a patron-client relationship with Jesus (175, 177, 182, based on Eph. 2:8–9) is probably misguided, or at least premature. It also sidelines the sanctifying dynamic of union with Christ and abiding in him as the inwardly transformative dynamic of gospel obedience (John 15:4–5). “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal. 2:20). The theology of obedience taught by both Jesus and Paul far outstrips the patron-client arrangement. Is there some explanatory power in that analogy? Maybe. Is it the central biblical model or motive for obedience? That’s highly doubtful.

When it comes to horizontal reciprocity between church members, Edwards is all in, again, in order to combat radical individualism and our modern allergy to incurring obligation by asking for help. Yet there’s no anchoring acknowledgment of the apostle Paul’s own trenchant critique of congregational patronage (see 2 Thes. 3:6–12), or of his carefulness to avoid the entanglements of missiological reciprocity (see Phil. 4:10–20).

As critical as Edwards is of pragmatism, he still fronts the social-problem-solving aspects of the gospel while leaving the church’s proclamation of propitiation unaddressed. Again, I realize this is a cultural apologetic for the church. But again, I ask, what gospel will the culture hear when we bring them to church?

Similar to the treatment of charis and pistis, gospel mystery is defined backward from the Latin sacramentum to mean that Gentiles “have access to full covenantal relationship with God through the sacraments of baptism and Communion” (165–66). But Paul’s meaning for mystērion is more likely determined by the Hidden but Now Revealed dynamic so clearly elucidated by Beale and Gladd.See G.K. Beale and Benjamin L. Gladd, Hidden but Now Revealed: A Biblical Theology of Mystery (IVP Academic, 2014). “With water and in the name of the Trinity, all God’s promises are made available to MacGuffins” (165). That’s too sacramental for my taste. Faith is the saving response to the promise; baptism is how faith goes public.

The mission of the church also gets a bit blurred with the emphasis on and even promotion of “the economic halo effect” around, for example, United Methodist churches in North Carolina (203). That begins to sound like mission creep. The church is the only redemptive institution, and its mission is to proclaim the gospel of forgiveness through faith alone, a faith that repents. It’s the common grace institutions that preserve the created order. The marks of the true church are the right preaching of the Word and the right administration of the ordinances. Love to the non-Christian neighbor is the function of the church scattered, the Christian in his this-worldly vocation, as Edwards recognizes.

Consider the following paragraph:

This relational and creational goodness is the entire reason common grace institutions exist in the first place, and why our abandonment of institutions is leaving us without a way to generate social capital anywhere near as quickly as we’re burning through it. As the only redemptive institution ordained for the life of the world, the body of Christ is uniquely equipped to steward blessing, strengthen bonds, and mediate tangible goodness that everyone everywhere needs. (205)

That seems like a confusion of categories. Is the church a common grace or special grace institution? Is it preservative or redemptive? Is the point here that the church should take up the mantle of a common grace institution in mediating tangible goodness? It’s a bit unclear. What’s also unclear is the place of preaching in the mission of the church. The sacraments get airtime, and mediating tangible blessings gets treatment; but preaching, at least within the confines of these pages, sounds muffled, if not muzzled. Is preaching indeed central to the mission of the church? If it’s central to Edwards’s model—and I assume it is—it’s not central in this account of it.

Conclusion 

Edwards demonstrates an impressive grasp of late modernity and its discontents. He places the local church in its proper social and spiritual perspective as the primary context for individual discipleship to Christ. For that, we should thank and agree with him.

This is an award-winning cultural apologetic for the church. Read it for that reason alone. But if you’re an Old Calvinist, just be aware: this is New Calvinism, Cool Calvinism—more cultural exegesis, less biblical exegesis, in service of cultural transformationalism. With it come all the strengths, weaknesses, and ambiguities one has grown to expect. Sadly, the ambiguities appear in the places where clarity matters most.

The post The Reason for Church: A Review appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled Conversion.

Some things are just meant to go together. A warm slice of apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Cozying up with a book on a rainy day. Watching fireworks light up the night sky with a grilled hot dog in hand. Preaching exegetically through a passage and calling for the conversion of sinners—well, that may be taking things a bit too far!

As I’ve reflected on preaching with other pastors, it seems there’s a common temptation to underplay preaching for conversion while aiming to preach expositionally as though these two are incompatible or only awkwardly related. Why is this?

Some are simply trying to guard against sloppy exposition that ignores the point of the text. Others have been scarred by past experiences of manipulative altar calls and forced invitations, so they seek to distance themselves from these methods.

On the other hand, the failure to preach for conversion sometimes arises from biblical convictions. Since the church is for the gathering of believers, why should we take time away from them to tell unbelievers how to have their sins forgiven?

Biblical Patterns and Grounds for Preaching for Conversion 

While I wholeheartedly agree that the Sunday sermon should primarily have God’s people in view, there is biblical precedent to aim for conversion in our preaching. Consider two examples: the Old Testament prophets and the apostle Paul.

1. An Observation from the Old Testament Prophets

I love the prophets. They consistently leave me in awe of God’s majesty and glory, as God is shown to be holy and sovereign and, at the same time, kind and gracious. In this they provide a masterful example of how to weave in calls for sinners to repent while still speaking words of correction, comfort, and hope to believers.

For instance, nearly all the prophets speak of impending judgment for Israel’s sin and promises of God’s future grace. Hosea pleads with Israel “to return to the LORD your God” (Hos. 14:1). In Joel, God urges the people to “return to Me with all your heart, with fasting, with weeping, and with mourning” (Joel 2:12). Amos calls for the people to “seek the LORD and live,” (Amos 5:4) and Zechariah similarly adds, “Return to me, says the LORD of hosts, and I will return to you” (Zech. 1:3).

Of course, Israel is not like the church in that God’s Old Covenant people comprised both believers and unbelievers. Yet we can learn from the way the prophets addressed not only the faithful among God’s people but also those with uncircumcised hearts. God’s concern for the salvation of sinners is demonstrated by repeated calls for repentance.

2. Paul’s Sunday Gathering Observation

In 1 Corinthians, Paul addresses several topics pertaining to when believers “come together as a church” (1 Cor. 11:18). Here he makes an important yet often overlooked observation about these gatherings: we are to expect unbelievers to be present.

Paul knows the church is made up of those who are “in Christ” (for example, see 1 Cor. 1:2, 4), yet he makes room for the attendance of non-Christians in the weekly gathering. We see this in at least two ways. First, he speaks of “outsiders or unbelievers” entering the gathering when the “whole church comes together” (1 Cor. 14:23). These unbelievers are clearly distinguished from the church. Second, Paul desires the conversion of such people, and he speaks of how powerful it is when unbelievers see God’s people worshipping rightly. The unbeliever is “convicted” and “called to account” by those present, as “the secrets of his heart are disclosed.” Then, Paul says, “falling on his face, he will worship God and declare that God is really among you” (1 Cor. 14:24–25).

While as pastors we should maintain our conviction that the church is a gathering of believers and (primarily) for believers, we should also long to see the salvation of sinners during our gatherings. These two principles are not mutually exclusive, but beautifully congruent. We should also recognize that some of our members who thought they were Christians may for the first time have their eyes opened to the gospel. The right worship of God and the right preaching of the Word are common means used by God to sovereignly bring sinners from death to life.

Practical Suggestions for Preaching for Conversion 

If you’re convinced that preaching for conversion is biblically commendable but struggle to implement this aim in your preaching, here are a few simple steps you can take.

1. Leave People with a “Splinter” of Truth

Last summer, after weeks of begging from my kids, we finally set up a playset we were given in our backyard. Some of the wood was splintering, and unfortunately, these splinters soon found their way into my son’s hand. It was a painful experience for him, and I was reminded that though splinters may be tiny, they have a way of sticking with you!

One way to aim for conversion in our preaching is to give unbelievers little “splinters of biblical truth.” Here’s what I mean: poke them with something that will stick with them for days. This could be a question, a challenge, or simply a truth about God. Put it out there and let it burrow into their skin.

I was recently preaching through Genesis 15:7–21, and the passage says that Israel would not return from Egypt until the fourth generation because “the iniquity of the Amorites is not yet complete” (v. 16). This is not the main point of the text, nor was it the main point of my sermon. But it was an encouraging reminder to Christians that God is sovereign, gracious, and just. He was showing patience with the Amorites even as he was sovereignly orchestrating Israel’s exodus from Egypt to coincide with his just punishment of the Amorites’ sin.

I also used this point to pose a question to unbelievers. While Christians take comfort in knowing God’s sovereignty and character, how do unbelievers make sense of the good and bad they see in the world? To whom do they attribute the good? How do they wrestle with the evil? And if God isn’t in control, what peace can they have amidst the chaos and suffering around them?

Probing questions like these leave little splinters under the skin. We pray that those splinters will stick with them until, by God’s grace, they are removed through regeneration and conversion.

2. Make Clear Distinctions Between Believers and Unbelievers

As in most things, clarity is key. A student’s grade suffers when he doesn’t understand the assignment. An employee is frustrated when the job description is vague. So also there are consequences when we don’t clearly distinguish between believers and unbelievers in our preaching.

Many churches feel the temptation to “level the playing field.” We want people to feel welcomed and included, so we blur the line between those who are Christians and those who are not. While this may seem kind, its results can be deadly. Worse than offending unbelievers is treating them like they are believers. Instead, we must aim to help sinners see their sin and confess their need for Christ. This spiritual clarity is not cruel, but kind.

So don’t be afraid to speak directly to believers and to let unbelievers know when they are not included in what you’re saying. For example, when preaching about the promises and blessings that belong to those who are in Christ, let unbelievers know that these things are not true of them. Let them feel the weight of their sin and then tell them how things can be different through the gospel. Explain to them that God saves and changes us only by his grace (Titus 2:11).

3. Pray and Plead Passionately

Finally, and most importantly, we must remember to pray that sinners would be converted through our preaching and then passionately plead with them to trust in Christ.

Do you pray that way for your preaching? Do you persistently ask that God would create saving faith in their hearts as they hear the word of Christ (Rom. 10:17)? If we are preaching Christ from all of Scripture, how could we not plead with sinners to trust in him?

Brothers, you can and should preach the point of the passage and aim for conversion in the same sermon. And the gospel doesn’t have to be an appendix at the end. Sometimes the best thing you can do is simply take a moment—at a strategic point in the sermon—to look the non-Christian in the eye and passionately plead with him to leave his sin behind and put his faith in Jesus. Salvation is of the Lord, and he is pleased to save sinners through our preaching.

The post Aiming for Conversion in Our Preaching appeared first on 9Marks.

Pastoral ministry is often described as lonely, but, for most, it doesn’t need to be. From the opening pages of Scripture, God declares that it is not good for man to be alone. Throughout redemptive history, the Lord strengthened his servants through faithful companions. Moses had Joshua. David had Jonathan. Paul had Barnabas, Silas, Timothy, Titus, Luke, and many other fellow laborers. Even our Lord surrounded himself with the Twelve and enjoyed a uniquely close friendship with Peter, James, and John.

The church has long recognized the necessity of Christian friendship. Few, though, have captured the beauty of it better than J. C. Ryle:

A friend is one of the greatest blessings on earth. Tell me not of money—affection is better than gold; sympathy is better than lands. He is the poor man who has no friends. This world is full of sorrow because it is full of sin. It is a dark place. It is a lonely place. It is a disappointing place. The brightest sunbeam in it is a friend. Friendship halves our troubles and doubles our joys.J. C. Ryle, Practical Religion: Being Plain Papers on the Daily Duties, Experience, Dangers, and Privileges of Professing Christians (Baker Book House, n.d.), 336.

Many others have echoed Ryle’s celebration of the blessing of friendship. C. S. Lewis famously observed, “Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, ‘What! You too? I thought I was the only one.’”C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves (Geoffrey Bles, 1960), 65. Charles Spurgeon added, “Friendship is one of the sweetest joys of life. Many might have failed beneath the bitterness of their trial had they not found a friend.”Charles H. Spurgeon, “The Friend of God,” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, vol. 33 (Passmore & Alabaster, 1887), sermon no. 1938. John Owen reminded us that Christ himself calls us his friends,John Owen, Of Communion with God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost (1657). and Tim Keller observed that the entire history of redemption can be viewed as one great act of divine friendship.Timothy Keller, “Friendship” (sermon, Redeemer Presbyterian Church, May 29, 2005), Gospel in Life, https://gospelinlife.com/sermon/friendship-2/.

Yet if friendship is such a gift, why do so many pastors struggle to cultivate deep, lasting relationships? Sometimes it’s because of a lack of opportunity, though this seems rarer. More often, friendship is lost to enemies in our own hearts and habits. There are definitely more, but here are eight such enemies of friendship to be on the lookout for.

1. Pride: “I Don’t Need Anyone”

One of the greatest threats to pastoral friendship, as with any kind of friendship, is pride. Pride whispers to us that mature pastors should be self-sufficient. It convinces us that asking for help is weakness and that admitting struggles will diminish our leadership.

Scripture tells a different story. “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall” (Prov. 16:18). James reminds us that “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (Jas. 4:6). Peter illustrates this danger vividly. Jesus had told him and the other disciples that they would fall away, yet Peter confidently declared, “Even though they all fall away, I will not” (Mark 14:29). Within hours he denied Christ three times.

Pride convinces us we are strong enough to stand alone. Humility invites other brothers to speak into our lives before we stumble and fall. The tallest tree is often the first to break when the storm comes. Likewise, pastors who refuse the shelter of faithful friendships often discover their weakness only after the winds begin to blow.

2. Busyness: “I Don’t Have Time”

Few people are busier than pastors. Sermon preparation, counseling, meetings, administration, hospital visits, weddings, funerals, crises, and family responsibilities—these things can consume every waking hour.

But ministry activity shouldn’t crowd out a means God intends to use to sustain us. Like Martha, we may need Jesus’s correction: “You are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary” (Luke 10:41–42). Likewise, Jethro warned Moses, “What you are doing is not good. . . . You are not able to do it alone” (Exod. 18:17–18).

Busyness often feels productive, but it can become an excuse for neglecting important relationships. A woodcutter who never stops to sharpen his axe eventually works twice as hard while accomplishing half as much. Friendship sharpens pastors for the work God has called them to do.

3. Insecurity: “If They Knew the Real Me . . .”

Many pastors secretly fear being fully known. We worry that honesty about discouragement, temptation, exhaustion, or failure might diminish our credibility. That instinct is as old as Eden.

After Adam and Eve sinned, “they hid themselves from the presence of the Lord” (Gen. 3:8). Sin drives us into hiding, but the gospel calls us into the light. As believers, our identity is no longer built upon people’s approval of us but upon God’s acceptance through Christ (Gal. 1:10).

Mold grows best in darkness. But it dies when exposed to light. The same is true for many of the struggles pastors face. Honest friendships are where grace replaces shame and truth overcomes fear.

4. Technology: “I’m Connected Enough”

We have never had more ways to communicate. Text messages, group chats, podcasts, social media, video calls, and email allow pastors to stay constantly connected. Yet many of us have never felt more isolated.

The New Testament consistently points us toward embodied fellowship. The author of Hebrews urges believers not to neglect meeting together (Heb. 10:24–25). And the apostle John says that instead of communicating through pen and ink, he longs to speak with these brothers and sisters in Christ “face to face” because such fellowship completes his joy (2 John 12; 3 John 13–14). Even the risen Christ walked alongside two discouraged disciples on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:15).

A photograph of a meal cannot satisfy hunger. Likewise, digital interaction cannot fully replace the encouragement found around a dinner table, during a long walk, or over an unhurried cup of coffee.

5. Competition: “Why Can’t I Have His Ministry?”

Ministry can quietly become competitive. Attendance, baptisms, budgets, buildings, podcasts, conferences, and social media can tempt us to compare ourselves with others.

We desperately need to hear Paul’s command: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves” (Phil. 2:3). Jonathan beautifully modeled this spirit. Although David’s rise meant that Jonathan would never inherit the throne, Jonathan gladly strengthened and honored David, even giving him his robe, armor, sword, bow, and belt (1 Sam. 18:3–4). Jonathan rejoiced in God’s blessing on another man instead of viewing him as a threat. Likewise, other pastors are not competitors. They are teammates laboring for the same King.

Two oxen yoked together can pull what neither could move alone. The kingdom is best served when pastors celebrate one another rather than compete with each other.

6. Fear of Another Betrayal: “I Can’t Trust Anyone Again”

Many pastors have experienced betrayal. A trusted elder leaves. A close friend disappoints. A ministry partner walks away. The church wounds its shepherd. And the temptation is understandable: never be vulnerable again.

Yet Scripture never presents self-protection as the path to flourishing. “Two are better than one. . . . For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow” (Eccl. 4:9–10). When Saul was converted, the believers in Jerusalem understandably feared him. It was Barnabas who courageously stepped forward, embraced him, and introduced him to the apostles (Acts 9:26–27).

Friendship always involves risk. But refusing to trust guarantees loneliness. A farmer who never plants because he fears failure will never enjoy a harvest. Likewise, pastors unwilling to risk friendship will never experience its rich rewards.

7. Isolation: “No One Understands My Ministry”

Pastoral ministry carries unique burdens. Because of this, many pastors start to believe that no one truly understands what it’s like to be a pastor.

Paul certainly knew loneliness. Near the end of his life he wrote, “Do your best to come to me soon. . . . Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry” (2 Tim. 4:9–11). Even the great apostle longed for the companionship of trusted friends.

Earlier, while imprisoned in Philippi, Paul and Silas worshiped together at midnight (Acts 16:25). Their shared faith surely strengthened them in suffering. God often sustains weary shepherds through faithful companions.

A coal removed from the fire quickly grows cold. The same is true of pastors who slowly drift away from meaningful relationships with fellow elders and friends in ministry

8. Lack of Intentional Pursuit: “Friendship Just Happens”

Perhaps the greatest myth about friendship is that it develops accidentally. Deep friendships rarely form without effort. They are cultivated over years through shared meals, honest conversations, mutual encouragement, prayer, and faithful presence

Proverbs reminds us, “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Prov. 18:24). Jonathan did not merely appreciate David from a distance. Scripture says he “rose and went to David . . . and strengthened his hand in God” (1 Sam. 23:16). He pursued his friend. Friendship requires initiative.

A well is dug one shovel at a time. Likewise, lifelong friendships are built one conversation, one shared meal, one phone call, one prayer, and one visit at a time. Someone has to make the first move. Why shouldn’t it be you?

A Final Challenge 

Fellow pastor, which of these eight enemies most threatens your friendships? Whatever the obstacle, remember that friendship is not a luxury for pastors. It is one of God’s ordinary means of sustaining us for long-term ministry.

The Lord rarely intends his servants to endure the joys and burdens of shepherding alone. So call a fellow pastor. Invite another elder to lunch. Take a brother to get coffee. Pray together. Confess sin. Laugh often. Bear one another’s burdens. You may discover that one of God’s greatest gifts for your joy and endurance in ministry has been across the table all along.

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David Odom, Youth Ministry Deconstructed: Rethinking Your Ministry to Build Lasting Faith in Students. B&H Academic, 2026. 288 pages.

There is much discussion today about what youth ministry should look like in the church. Some argue that teenagers should be fully integrated into the life of the church and treated as adults, which means that youth ministry (as it is typically understood) largely disappears as children get older. On the other hand, some churches believe that students should have their own age-segmented ministry throughout their high school years, where most of what is taught and planned is specifically for them. And there are plenty of positions in between.

This isn’t merely a disagreement over church polity, as all churches must decide how best to minister to the teenagers among them. These young people need to be evangelized, taught, and shepherded in a way that helps them grow into mature followers of Christ “in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation” (Phil. 2:15).

I would agree with professor, author, and youth ministry veteran David Odom that youth ministry needs a “deconstruction.” Odom uses this term as a play on words, as many today speak of “deconstructing” their faith. He uses it to exhort churches to tear down, or deconstruct, the structures and strategies they have used for decades to minister to teenagers. This deconstruction phase comprises the book’s first six chapters, as Odom offers metrics for evaluating your youth ministry in various areas, including spiritual growth, discipleship, and discipleship environments. Then chapters 7–10 focus on building back up, or reconstructing, your youth ministry in a way that is biblical, sustainable, and contextual.

Church leaders will undoubtedly find places where they differ with Odom’s approach or his specific applications in certain areas, yet the issues and questions he raises are worthy of reflection. Rather than summarize each chapter, I want to commend Youth Ministry Deconstructed to church leaders by highlighting four main strengths of the book.

1. Youth Ministry Fits Within the Church as a Whole

There has been concern for a while now about how youth ministry has created silos in the church. The most encouraging thing about this book is that Odom wants to integrate youth ministry within the church as a whole. So, for instance, when it comes to a question like, Should teenagers skip the corporate gathering to go to a youth worship service? Odom says, “Don’t allow a youth-only worship gathering to become a substitute for intergenerational corporate worship. Teenagers in the church benefit both young people and the congregation” (126). And when it comes to the question, Why does youth ministry exist? he points to an example of a student ministry that uses the following discipleship strategy: “The process for the student ministry is the same as the church as a whole” (112). This doesn’t mean that there can’t be spaces for students to learn in age-appropriate settings, but it does mean that churches should prioritize having youth in the main gathering.

2. Youth Ministries Should Partner with Parents

This book emphasizes that youth ministries should partner with parents rather than simply connect with them. Furthermore, Odom says, “We can’t talk about student spiritual growth without discussing the spiritual health of parents” (56). God gave students their parents before he gave them youth pastors. This is why a youth pastor (or any other pastor) should minister to students with their parents in mind instead of focusing solely on the youth. This insight also suggests that one way the church can minister to teenagers is by discipling their parents to be mature followers of Jesus.

3. Churches Are Encouraged to Evaluate Their Current Practices

To help churches decide how to rebuild youth ministries that fit their context, Odom offers introspective questions at the end of each of the ten chapters. In total, there are 142 questions for church leaders to discuss! The book is not, then, simply about an information transfer; it prompts church leaders to think through how best to apply these principles to their students. Youth ministry will look different for every church due to differing structures and church polities. Still, all churches will benefit from evaluating whether they are faithfully and wisely applying Scripture in the way they minister to teenagers.

4. Churches Are Encouraged to Focus on Spiritual Growth Rather Than Numbers

Finally, Youth Ministry Deconstructed helps church leaders focus not on how many teenagers are involved but on whether they know Christ and are growing in him. Odom notes, “Deconstructing youth ministry encourages you to move beyond measuring how many people are involved to discover to what extent people are growing toward Christlike maturity” (135). Pastors know that it’s harder to measure spiritual growth than it is to simply count attendance. But true spiritual fruit grows in those who are abiding in Christ, not merely in those who are in close proximity to a church building.

Even if your church is not overflowing with teenagers, this book is a helpful resource to read so that you’re ready to minister to families that the Lord brings in the future.

So does youth ministry need a deconstruction? Yes. But don’t forget to build it back up. Teenagers are not just the church of the future—they are valuable to Jesus today.

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You finally did it. You talked your wife into letting you turn the basement into a man cave!

However, after receiving approval, you still have to do the work. What size TV will you buy? Where will it go? How much furniture will you have? Will you put anything on the wall? Many practical questions remain.

Similarly, leading a change from a single-elder polity to a plurality of elders has final steps that are often overlooked. We know we need to educate the body on the biblical model and its practical benefits. We understand the need for discussions and an official vote. But even after all this, we aren’t done yet.

Having discussed the evaluation and education phases of this process in previous articles, we will now look at the final step, which is also vital: execution.

A Word of Warning: Remember Your First Love 

In his letter to the church in Ephesus (Rev. 2:1–7), Jesus commends them for their perseverance and discernment.Thomas R. Schreiner, Revelation, in ESV Expository Commentary, vol. 12, 570–571. They were known for their commitment to sound doctrine and righteous living.

Yet they are rebuked because they had abandoned their first love.Schreiner argues that the Ephesians had stopped loving God and others. Schreiner, Ibid., 571. These Christians, who were so committed to doing the right thing, had forgotten why they were doing it in the first place. They had orthodoxy and orthopraxy, but they were missing love.

Don’t let this be your story. It is easy to get lost in wanting to lead out in change just so we can say we did it, or out of concern to our reputation. But our motivation for change should be to bring greater glory to God and greater health to his church. So don’t lose focus after the vote is taken. See the process through to the end.

Finishing Well 

Check Your Documents 

One of the first things to do after there is general agreement to move toward a plurality is to consult the church’s governing documents (bylaws, policies, and procedures). You need to determine how to officially adopt the change. Even if all the members are on board and ready, it still has to accord with your governing documents. If your documents do not allow for having a plurality of elders, then you will need to amend or rewrite them. The congregation will then need to vote to accept the amendments or new constitution. As part of this process, you might consider consulting a trusted attorney who has helped like-minded churches deal with these kinds of issues. They might have insights that help prevent you from making a costly mistake.

Identify Elder Candidates 

Once your documents are in order, you will need to identify qualified elder candidates. How this process is handled will have a significant effect on the congregation’s confidence in the transition.

One of the most important questions to answer is who will be responsible for nominating the first elders to serve alongside you. The constitution and bylaws of most elder-led congregational churches make the elders responsible for nominating new elders to the congregation. I think this is the best practice. However, since you are the only elder at the time of this change, you will need to decide whether to nominate qualified men yourself or form a one-time committee to help you. Either way, don’t undervalue the congregation’s feedback in the process.

Ensuring that the right men are identified and thoroughly assessed is crucial to a church’s health. This can’t simply be a popularity contest; these men must meet the biblical standards of character and doctrine for an elder, as outlined in 1 Timothy 3:1–7. Faithfully identifying the first generation of elder candidates helps create a stable foundation for the entire transition.

Present Elder Candidates 

Presenting and affirming qualified elder candidates is vital to this process as well. When done well, it breeds confidence among the congregation, but when done poorly—when they’re rushed, given insufficient information, etc.—the congregation can become skeptical of the process and feel that their voice has been weakened or ignored. Some more questions to consider:

• Once you identify and assess a candidate, how will he be presented to the congregation?

• What steps will you take to ensure that the members are confident in a candidate’s qualifications? Will he share his testimony before the body? Will you take questions about him from the church? Will he preach on a Sunday morning or teach a class?

• Will the church consider one candidate at a time or decide on multiple candidates at once?

• Will new elders make vows to the congregation publicly? Will the congregation respond with vows of their own?

I would recommend that, at a minimum, you have each candidate share his testimony, be available for questions, and, depending on how much the congregation has already heard him teach or preach, give the candidate another opportunity to do so before the vote occurs.

Other Factors 

Churches will also need to consider factors, such as whether elders will rotate off, how many elders the church will have, what duties they will fulfill, and how staff and lay elders will relate.

Don’t Stop Early 

As a former college athlete, I have spent a lot of time listening to coaches. When running sprints, one thing almost every coach stresses is not quitting until after you cross the finish line.

Pastor, if you’re in the middle of this process, you’re probably tired by now. You have held many meetings and taught on this multiple times, and you are ready for a break.

This transition is setting you up to have more help, but don’t quit before you cross the finish line. These final steps are ultimately aimed at protecting the church’s doctrine and ensuring that members are confident in Scripture’s teaching about leadership in the church.

You began this change for God’s glory and the church’s good, and that hasn’t changed. Keep going!

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Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

“Death to Christians.”

That’s the English translation of the phrase we found printed on a piece of paper and plastered to the large metal gate at the entrance to our Central Asian compound. My missionary teammates and I were returning from sharing a meal with friends down the street when we found this note around dusk. We snatched the paper off the gate and quickly made our way inside the seemingly secure walls of the compound.

The death threat was not a total surprise. Over the last two years, I had grown accustomed to the uncertainty of living in an active war zone. Additionally, the preceding few weeks had been particularly volatile, as we had heard whispers from our local friends that we were no longer welcome in our city.

We had gone up to the capital city for a week to let things cool down, and then four of us decided to take a two-day trip back to our home to test things out. It was on the second evening of this trip that we received the note on the gate. As we entered the gate and went through the courtyard, we immediately sat down in the living room to talk about next steps. Before we could begin talking, we heard shouting on the street. At the same time, we saw something thrown over the wall and land on the concrete porch mere feet from where the four of us sat, with only a glass window separating us. As soon as the object hit the concrete, I remember a deafening explosion and my entire field of vision was suddenly an orange-tinted color.

I remember thinking, “A grenade just exploded. Did that really happen?”

Waiting to Die 

It did happen. The glass shattered. We fell to the floor, crawled on our hands and knees to the bathroom, turned the light off, and sat in silence. We were stunned and unsure of what would happen next. But we all knew that in our country, attacks often started with a grenade and then people would rush in to finish what they started. We crouched defenseless in that bathroom in Central Asia.

It’s the first time in my life I genuinely thought I was going to die. I remember many things going through my mind. I thought of my fiancée. I thought of my family back home in the U.S. I also distinctly remember thinking, “I never thought I would die crouched down in a bathroom.”

But I also remember thinking, “If this is where the Lord has for me to die, then that’s okay. He’s worth it.” For the next half hour, we quoted Scripture out loud, prayed, and waited for what we thought was imminent death. In God’s kindness, the attackers never entered our home.

Four Biblical Realities of Suffering 

Well over a decade has passed since these events took place. By God’s grace, I write these words today from another Central Asian country, where I continue to live with my family and serve as a missionary. I have not experienced another incident of acute suffering like the one just described, but that doesn’t mean this last decade has been free from suffering. As I reflect on my own suffering as a missionary for the sake of the Name, I humbly offer four biblical realities of suffering that apply to all missionaries.

1. Suffering Is Normal

Scripture is clear that suffering as a Christian is to be expected. “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you” (1 Pet. 4:12). It’s easy enough to read these words, yet we often feel surprised when we encounter suffering.

Missionaries enter cultures where Jesus is historically unknown, misunderstood, or outright blasphemed. By definition, the bride of Christ is either nonexistent or small and fledgling. Satan hates missionaries and the work they seek to accomplish. So why would any missionary assume that things would be easy in this context? Missionaries should expect suffering.

One risk of sharing my story of a grenade attack is that some may think that less dramatic forms of suffering somehow do not qualify as “real” suffering. In reality, most suffering that missionaries encounter is more like a steady drip from a leaky faucet than a dam that bursts all at once. This kind of suffering takes place over days, weeks, months, and sometimes years.

Consider the missionary who lives far from adequate medical care and suffers physically. Or the missionary whose parents live far away, so she is unable to care for them as they deal with cancer or dementia. Missionaries regularly miss funerals and weddings. Their own marriages are tested in the pressure cooker of cross-cultural living. And then there are the sudden exits and deportations that can happen. These and other kinds of suffering are normal for missionaries.

2. Suffering Is Temporal

Although suffering is normal for missionaries (and all Christians!), we must also remember that for those who are born again, it is temporal. Suffering does not have the final word; Christ does. Because of the work of Christ, missionaries have hope in the midst of suffering. “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet. 1:3).

Just as Christians do not grieve as those who have no hope, so we do not suffer as those who have no hope. That’s because every child of God has been born again to a “living hope”! Our hope is sure, not because of our ability or inability to endure suffering. Our hope is not based on our ability to “tough it out.” Our hope is sure because Jesus Christ has risen from the dead and thus the outcome of our mission and life is certain. Jesus wins!

One day we will return to the garden, a new creation where we will once again dwell with God and he with us. “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4). Missionaries should remember the hope of eternal life that is theirs in Christ as they suffer for his name. This truth produces and sustains joy in the midst of suffering.

3. We Are Not Alone in Our Suffering

As I waited in that bathroom years ago, I vividly remember God calming my heart and granting supernatural peace that “surpasses all understanding” (Phil. 4:7). I am here to testify that God is with his people in the midst of their suffering. Jesus promised to be with his people to the end of the age (Matt. 28:20), and he is faithful.

In addition to the promises of his Word and the power of his Spirit, God in his great wisdom has instituted the church as a means of causing Christians to persevere to the end. Christians need the local church. Missionaries need the local church. It’s here, in the church, that we have brothers and sisters to walk with us through suffering and bear burdens we cannot bear alone (Gal. 6:2).

4. Future Glory Is Greater Than Present Suffering

When suffering seems unbearable, we sometimes think, “Is it really worth it?” Paul, who was no stranger to suffering, even despaired for his very life because of the overwhelming nature of his afflictions (2 Cor. 1:8). How could he go from feeling overwhelmed to calling his afflictions “light and momentary” just a few chapters later? By changing his perspective. He set his eyes on the “eternal” things, the things that are “unseen” (2 Cor. 4:17–18).

In another place he writes, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom. 8:18). How do I persevere crouched down in a bathroom waiting for someone to come in and kill me? The same way I persevere through the daily and constant afflictions of life—by remembering the glory that lies ahead—the resurrection of the body and a new heaven and a new earth.

Suffering to some degree is a constant companion for every Christian, but the day is coming when all that is wrong in the world will be made right. Child of God, remember that you’re not alone in your suffering and that you and I can’t fathom the glory that lies ahead. Let’s live in light of that eternal glory.

The post We Were Waiting to Die: Suffering as a Missionary for the Sake of the Name appeared first on 9Marks.

I never understood algebra until I took physics. Algebra was just abstract numbers until physics put those numbers to work. For instance, the quadratic formula helps determine how long a football can stay in the air and whether a receiver running at a certain speed could catch it. Now I’m interested.

That’s what most people want—not just abstract theory but practical application. When leading a church through a major change, you should put both on offer.

This article is the second in a three-part series on leading a church from a single-pastor polity to a plurality-of-elders model.As in the previous article, I’m using the terms “pastor” and “elder” interchangeably. In the first article, we saw the importance of evaluating your church’s history to help predict hazards you will likely encounter. In this article, we will see the importance of education in the transition process.

Help Them See the Need from Scripture 

On the day of Pentecost, Peter told the gathered crowd to “Repent and be baptized . . .” (Acts 2:38). However, before he gave this command, he preached a sermon full of reasons why they should eagerly do so.

In a similar way, we shouldn’t urge a change in polity until we’ve explained why that change needs to be made. Help your church see how a plurality of elders fits better with the teaching and example we find in the New Testament. Once they grasp the Bible’s model, adorn it with practical blessings that will come from adopting it—more on this in a minute.

I’m convinced many Christians would be surprised to learn what Scripture actually says about polity. It’s simply too often assumed rather than understood. Therefore, we need to help our members locate the ecclesial prescriptions in their Bibles.

Consider Paul’s example and instructions in Acts 20:17–35: elders should teach publicly and privately; teach believers and evangelize unbelievers; proclaim the “whole counsel of God”; know and care for all members of the flock; and protect the church against false teaching. According to Ephesians 4:11–12, elders are among those whom Christ has given to the church to “equip the saints for the work of ministry.” And when Paul tells Timothy the qualifications for being an elder, he says that elders should “manage [their] own household well,” “care for God’s church,” and be “above reproach” (1 Tim. 3:1–7).

Given the breadth of these pastoral responsibilities, it’s not surprising that the New Testament repeatedly underlines there being multiple elders for each local church (Acts 14:23; Titus 1:5; Jas. 5:14). Even on a practical level, a plurality of elders appears to be a more sustainable model for pastoral ministry. But if you don’t educate the congregation on these things, many will never see it.

Help Them Feel the Need 

Once members understand the scope and difficulty of a pastor’s calling, they should begin to see that it is too big for one man, and I believe this is by design. It seems the reason God gives pastors a job that is too big for one man is that he never intended for one man to do it alone! Though we want to avoid coming across as complaining about our job, particularly given that many members also have difficult jobs, we can be honest with them about the strain of pastoring alone.

I told the congregation I often had to look at two pastoral responsibilities and choose which one to neglect. There were days when I didn’t have time to do marriage counseling and sermon prep, to be at the hospital for a member’s critical surgery and attend a finance committee meeting. I had to choose one and leave the other undone.

If you are a solo pastor, you know about these weighty decisions. You also know how often the thing you’re tempted to neglect is your own family. However, your church members may have no idea what you do in a given week. Helping them understand this burden can prove vital to their understanding the why behind having a plurality.

Help Them Desire the Need 

You may recall the old infomercials that used to be on TV all the time. You know why those worked so well? Because they showed you what you were missing!

They didn’t just say, “You need this spray to stop your roof from leaking.” Instead, they covered a screen in the gunk, made it the floor of a boat, and demonstrated just how effective it was in stopping water ingress by putting two fellas in the boat and rowing it around for a while. If it can do that, surely, it’d make a difference on my roof!

Though you aren’t selling your congregation a product, you can help them see not only what they lack but also what they would gain from having multiple elders. Here are six practical benefits.

Clarified Christology 

Distributing leadership among multiple qualified men helps to reinforce the fact that Christ is the head of the church.

Comprehensive Coverage 

A plurality of elders affords more hands for the work, which means members receive better pastoral care.

Greater Giftedness 

A plurality of elders results in the greater diversification of pastoral gifting. Some are more cerebral and so are poised to defend the church’s doctrines against outside attack. Others are uniquely tenderhearted and so deal best with the weak and hurting among the members.

Additional Accountability 

A plurality of elders means every pastor has pastors on whom he can depend and from whom he can receive care.

Distinct Deacons 

A plurality of elders makes it easier for elders to do elder things and deacons to do deacon things.

Stronger Succession 

A plurality of elders provides continuity and consistent leadership during pastoral transitions.

Help your church see and desire these benefits, which a plural elder polity provides.

Conclusion 

Now that you’ve identified potential hazards from your church’s history (see the “Evaluation” step from the previous article) and educated your people about why your church’s polity needs to change, you should be ready for the final step of the transition process: Execution. That’s where we’ll deal with pertinent questions and practical steps, such as how many elders to pursue, how to identify them, which bylaws need to be changed, and more.

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In total, 2997 people lost their lives. Devastating is not strong enough of a word to describe the impact of those attacks.

Twenty-five years on, and it’s still common to hear people recall where they were when they first learned of the attacks on 9/11. If you were pastoring at that time, amid the shock and sadness you undoubtedly felt, you were probably also wondering what you were going to say on that upcoming Sunday, September 16. Knowing that your people would come questioning and grieving and fearing and feeling angry, you likely tried to speak to them at their point of need, maybe even doing so multiple times throughout the service, from the transitions in the service, to the prayers you prayed, to the songs you sang. You may, like our pastor, Mark, have even inserted a time in the service where you offered a theological and pastoral word in light of the terrible loss. You can read or listen to his remarks here.Mark Dever, “A Word on September 11, 2001” (sermon, Capitol Hill Baptist Church, September 16, 2001), https://www.9marks.org/article/mark-devers-remarks-the-sunday-after-9-11.

But what about the sermon? Well, if I polled the pastors I know, I would guess a fair number of them ended up changing their text or topic. And, depending on what they had planned, I am sure their decision to pivot was best for their people. This underlines the fact that, sometimes, pastors have to respond quickly to care for the sheep among them. Praise the Lord that a prayer for wisdom is one he promises to answer affirmatively (Jas. 1:5).

In the case of our church on Capitol Hill, it seems the Lord was providentially working for our good through the service planning of our pastors, which had been done months in advance. We were in the middle of a two-part series in Habakkuk entitled “When Bad Things Happen,”See the published sermon card with our September through December schedule below. and Bert Daniel, a guest preacher and former intern, preached a message titled “Confidence” from Habakkuk 3 on that Sunday after the attacks.You can listen to his sermon here: https://www.capitolhillbaptist.org/sermon/confidence/. Take a look at the original sermon card here:

And did you notice the sermon titles that followed 9/16? “A Quest for Peace.” “…for Justice,” “…for Security,” and “…for Forgiveness.” Who but God could have planned that! It’s like he was walking the congregation through stages of grief.

This particular providence is a reminder that the Lord can work his wisdom into our plans long before we realize how great our need will be or when it will arrive. Those brothers who made the sermon schedule certainly didn’t know how needy our church would be on September 16. Yet they asked the Lord for help and wisdom, and he provided it in an amazing way.

Maybe you feel your own need for help and wisdom even now. If so, take heart: God has invited all his children to come to him with a confidence born out of the sure knowledge that through Christ, our great high priest, we will receive mercy and grace in our time of need (Heb. 4:16).

For pastors specifically, you may not know precisely what your people need right now, or what they’ll need tomorrow or next year or ten years from now. But what you can know for sure is that as much as you want and plan for their good, the Lord their God desires and plans for it even more. Let this comfort you the next time you go to him on their behalf. Your Father, and theirs, knows and will give all that they need.

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“All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth.” (Hebrews 11:13)

Well, if you’re anything like me you have probably felt something like an alien and a stranger on earth this week, maybe not for all the same reasons that the writer to the Hebrews meant that, but certainly that’s how I’ve felt. I know that I’ve been distracted this week. I’ve had a hard time concentrating on things since Tuesday. And I know that many of you have felt similar things. Some here this morning work in the executive branch, others in the judicial, others in the legislative branch, and others are in the military. Most of us, if we don’t know people who were directly affected by the events on Tuesday, know people who do. Some sitting here this morning do.

I wanted to make a few comments given the things we’ve seen this week, and some of the questions that I know must be running through our minds. The events of these last few days do bring up some difficult questions: How could God let this happen to America? Or, more to the point, if we believe that God is good and all-powerful, how could God let this happen at all anywhere?

People around the world have struggled with this problem as things like this have happened in their countries. But for this to happen on this scale and in our country presses these questions on our minds even more. I don’t have time this morning, even if I were to take my normal time preaching, to fully address these questions. I don’t know that I could.

Amidst all the calls for hatred and revenge, we need to keep clearly in view that vengeance is not for us as private individuals. In our own actions and our own prayers, we need to remember what we read in Romans 12:19, “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay,’ says the Lord.”

Having said that, some kind of retribution is essential for justice in this world. I do not understand that to be in tension with what we believe as Christians. I understand that to be part of what the Bible teaches about the role of government. I want to make two brief observations.

First, about the need for justice in this world. So many here are involved in the government. I’m aware of that. I see your faces. I know who you are. Many of you I don’t know. You also probably, given where this church is located, are involved in the government in one way or another. If you’re a Christian, you may well wonder what is to be our response.

If you read Romans 13 when you go home this afternoon, you’ll find there, that among other things, it says that the state, the authorities do not “bear the sword in vain.” And what Christians have reasoned, largely, for the last two thousand years from that passage is that we understood that, with the exception of immediate self-defense, lethal force is only to be used by governments, not by private individuals, and then, only to further justice.

So, if you will, the public authorities have a monopoly on the use of lethal force. In some ways that’s part of what we mean by the word “civilization.” And that’s why, even if they haven’t known all the history of it, some of our commentators this week have reached for words like “uncivilized” and “barbarity” when they try to describe the acts of the people who did these terrible things on Tuesday.

With these terrorists, we see a return to a kind of barbarism, where, for private ends, non-combatants are targeted and innocent people are killed. This is wrong. Our leaders would be at fault if they did not seek to put an end to such immoral violence. They are responsible before God for the protection of innocent lives. As best I can understand it, that is what the Scripture teaches about the role of our government and of our nation.

Therefore we need to pray for wisdom for our leaders. We need to pray for our own courage, because this conflict will not involve them only. It will involve all of us in ways we don’t yet know. We must pray to God that he supply us what we need.

So much for the justice that we need in this world.

Second, about the certainty of God’s justice. Our hold on our own lives is so uncertain. That’s been brought home to us this week. Many people have died this week, who, like all of us, would one day of some immediate cause or other, die; but in the mysterious providence of God this week, they died suddenly and violently. We need to understand, and we need to tell others as Christians that the terrors of this week do not challenge the idea that God is real, that he is present, that he is sovereign, that he is good. These are difficult things to think through and we can’t do it right now, but we hope that the article may be helpful, and the sermons that are to come.

The thousands in the buildings, and the hundreds in the planes had their lives taken this week. As Christians we understand that they would have had to die at some point in the future. From Scripture we understand that we all die because we are all under a divine sentence of death because of our sins. But God decided that this was time for some to be brought to judgment, and for others to be brought home. These are the inscrutable ways of God.

The handful of evil men who commandeered these planes gave up their lives to take others. They were sincere in their actions, but we see what a thin veneer of virtue sincerity is. For sincerity in wrong is no virtue. They were terribly, tragically wrong in what they did. What they did was evil. Like the people whose lives they took, they too would have died at some point in the future. They could have died in a car accident in Delray, Florida, where some of them lived. They could have died in the country they came from. They would certainly die someday. They have now died also.

And though we may feel that they are beyond the reach of justice from our government, I promise you that our government’s justice pales compared to the justice of almighty God. That is certain.

I’m struck that only one person has died who did not need to die, and that is Jesus Christ. He alone was under no sentence of death. He too laid down his life, but he did it not to take the lives of others, but to give life, to hundreds and thousands and millions of others who would turn and trust in him. He died not to kill people, but so that we might live.

So many things have been destroyed this week: tragically, the lives of many people; certainly some important buildings; symbols and securities. I hope some other things may have been destroyed this week: our wrong financial and military security, in which we trust in things rather than in God; our wrong commitment to sin in our own lives; our wrong, false, deceptive sense of security which is not real apart from God.

Friends, as your pastor, as I’ve prayed about what to say to you this morning, I feel I must tell you that we must be prepared to die. You must be prepared to die. You should never live in the illusion that you know, because of your age or your doctor’s report, that your health is yours, or your next year, or decade, or even week. These things are not in our hands. We realize that this world does not last forever, and this life doesn’t. And whether our lives are ended quietly and calmly many years from now, or in horrible, evil injustice, our God is sovereign, and we will face him. And when we face him, we will not give account for the sins of some other terrible people who may have taken our lives. We’ll give account for our own sins, and we must be prepared for that.

The quest for worldly justice is right. But our ultimate hope for ourselves lies not in justice alone, but in God’s mercy, and in his forgiveness of our sins. God has so loved us that he took on our nature and lived a life deserving no death, committing no sins. Jesus died on the cross in our place for our sins. If we repent of our sins and turn and trust in him, he gives us new life.

God’s judgment for our sins is certainly poured out either on us or on Christ. So we must repent of our sins and believe in Christ. We should make sure that we have this new life in Christ, and we should share it with others, and pray for them. Oh friends, I don’t know about you, but I’ve noticed this week a difference between Christians and non-Christians. It is not that we Christians don’t grieve; we do grieve. But we grieve as those who have hope, and so many of our friends and family members grieve as if their worlds have been most fundamentally changed forever. This cannot be true of us if we are truly Christians. Oh friends, talk to them about the hope that we have in Christ. Share this with them. Serve them in love.

May God use these tragic events in our lives, and in the lives of those around us, to remind us of the brevity of this life, and the certainty of judgment. But like those people written about in Hebrews 11, we too should live, regardless of the circumstances in this world, knowing that the future is bright in Christ. Friends, I don’t know of all the terrible things that are about to come upon us, but I do know that if we’re Christians, our long-term forecast is absolutely wonderful. Our hope is in Christ, and we must not be ashamed or even shy about presenting this hope to others. Our friends now are wanting to talk to us about the things we’ve been wanting to share with them all along. Let’s pray that God makes us ready for this work.

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Many pastors begin their ministry in churches that need reform. Unfortunately, many can also tell the tale of having proceeded with change without understanding where the church has been and how it got into the state it is now in. Brother pastor, knowing your church’s history is of great value no matter what your state of play is, but it is especially helpful to know if you’re looking to bring change.

This article is the first in a three-part series meant to help you consider some practical steps to lead a transition from a single-pastor polity to a plurality of elders.I’m using the terms “pastor” and “elder” interchangeably. It is born out of personal experience, as I’ve had the privilege of leading such change in a two-hundred-year-old, traditional Southern Baptist church.

The three steps we’ll explore for making this change include: (1) Evaluation (how to use church history as a hazard map), (2) Education (helping members see the change that’s needed), and (3) Execution (taking the necessary steps to lead the transition). In this first article, we’ll consider the “Evaluation” step.

Church History: More Hazard Map Than Treasure Map 

Knowledge of your church’s history is less like a treasure map and more like a hazard map. Engineers use hazard maps to identify areas where they are likely to encounter threats or problems, such as floods, landslides, and earthquakes. This gives them a forewarning and allows them to plan adequately. Knowing where your people have been before you showed up works in a similar way.

My pastor friend has served his church for years. Over that time, he has been faithful and his people trust him. He seems primed to lead them to having a plurality of elders. The problem is that the pastor before him had tried to force that very change on the church before they were ready for it. The church almost split as a result, and the people remain sensitive and even edgy when it comes to the topic of elders.

Knowing the wounds caused by that man’s zeal absent wisdom informs how my friend should approach this change. Rather than assuming agreement and proceeding quickly, he should be patient, give himself to overexplaining, and strain to listen carefully to objections. His church’s history doesn’t bar him from implementing a biblical model of church leadership, but it should color how he goes about it.

Identifying Hazards 

So how do you identify hazards from your church’s history? Consider these diagnostic questions.

How has the church handled previous transitions?

I’m not just referring to the big ones like dissolving the deacon board and having a plurality of elders. Ask yourself: Did the congregation joyfully receive some of the contemporary hymns you introduced back when you became the pastor? Were they united 25 years ago when they built a new building? If so, you might feel more confident that they can embrace the next change like they have the past ones.

If, however, change has historically spelled division, then you will need to be cautious, doubling down on patience as part of your strategy.

How long has the church had its current leadership structure?

If you pastor a five-year-old church, no one is more than five years invested in the current polity. This means they probably hold it more loosely.

However, if you pastor a one-hundred-year-old church, you probably have members who have done it a certain way longer than you’ve been alive! They likely feel that whatever you’re trying to change is part of the church’s identity. Don’t make the mistake of thinking an issue weighs five pounds when, to your people, it weighs more like a hundred.

What personal ties do members have to the current leadership structure?

If you are in a smaller, rural “family church,” then it is likely that some of the members have had fathers, grandfathers, uncles, or other men whom they deeply admired who served as the pastor. In such cases, the introduction of a different model may feel to them like an attack on family values.

You will probably need to introduce a change with a lot of grace, being careful to avoid speaking harshly or overcritically of your forebears. Just because they’re not there doesn’t mean the people don’t defend them. Most importantly, you must help your people understand how the change you’re making is rooted in Scripture. Help them see how this change will increase the church’s spiritual health, like encouraging someone to add leafy greens to their diet.

What is your history with the church?

Be brutally honest with yourself here. How long have you served the church? How does your tenure stack up to the tenure of the five previous pastors? Have you led well during your time there, or have you made some shaky leadership decisions?

An honest assessment in this area will help you understand how the church views your leadership. If they are still getting to know you or haven’t seen you lead well, then you likely need to give it some more time.

But if you’ve pastored the church for seven years and the average pastoral tenure for the previous few pastors was 3.5 years, then they might be poised to follow you through a change in leadership structure.

Conclusion 

Remember, you aren’t just leading an institution; you are leading people—God’s people! Taking time to understand their story isn’t just prudent; it is pastoral. You’re not only preparing to lead a change in polity but also showing care and concern for brothers and sisters in Christ.

The evaluation step isn’t glamorous. After all, we aren’t talking about a teaching series on Acts 14 or implementing congregational voting yet. Nonetheless, evaluation will inform everything that comes next, so be honest and thorough. Talk to longtime members, mine the minutes, and let what you find shape how you lead.

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As a generation of pastors moves toward retirement, it’s not uncommon for their congregations, even those that are long-established and made up of a majority of older saints, to weigh it as a net advantage to hire a younger pastor. At least that’s been my experience.

My original plan for ministry was, admittedly, not to lead a time-tested congregation. When I came of (ministry) age in the 2010s, church planting was in vogue. My wife and I took multiple trips to different cities in the United States and prayed the Lord would lead us to plant a church. However, that was not God’s plan. His plan was for me and my family to move to a historic city in the Southeast to pastor a long-established church. Therefore, I have had to think carefully about what faithful leadership looks like when pastoral youth meets congregational longevity. Here are several things I’ve learned.

Remember That Your Authority Is in the Word, Not in Your Age 

When a young man is affirmed to lead an established church made up of older saints, both the pastor and the congregation will likely feel some insecurities. Thankfully, the remedy for both is the same: the Word of God.

Insecurity is a common foe for any new pastor. After all, he has never pastored his own flock. It’s also likely that the majority of the congregation is older than he is—perhaps much older! So how can he exercise biblical authority in spite of his natural insecurities? He must preach and teach the Word of God and model godliness.

When Paul left the church of Ephesus and returned to Jerusalem, Timothy was left behind to pastor the church even though he was a young man. Paul was aware of the challenge that was Timothy’s youth, so he exhorted Timothy, saying, “Let no one despise you for your youth” (1 Tim. 4:12). It’s not difficult to imagine that both Timothy and the congregation felt some unease about the young preacher.

It should be noted, however, that Paul does not tell Timothy to overcome this by asserting himself, by reminding the church of his position, or by attempting to project maturity beyond his years. Instead, Paul anchors Timothy’s authority in the faithful ministry of the Word. Paul exhorts him to “teach” (v. 11) and to devote himself to the “public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching” (v. 13).

Paul also instructed young Timothy to model a life of godliness in the midst of a congregation that was undoubtedly his senior. Because of Timothy’s age, the congregation likely questioned not only his teaching but also his maturity to lead. Yet as Timothy set an “example” with his life (v. 2), Paul expected that the congregation would joyfully submit to the authority of God’s Word as it was taught and embodied by their young pastor. In this way, both Timothy’s insecurities and the congregation’s concerns would be addressed.

Learn the Church’s History 

While submission to God’s Word is always the place to start, there are other things a young pastor may find helpful in leading an older congregation. For instance, there’s humility in trying to learn the church’s history. To study history is to admit that you need help, not only from the present but also from the past. You might think of history as the way in which God has sovereignly worked for his glory in the past, and as such, it should be treasured and respected, especially in a church with a long history of God’s faithfulness. The new pastor may have grand dreams and plans for the church, but it would be a great benefit to his early ministry to first learn the history of the church.

One of the most helpful artifacts of my ministry has been a book that chronicles my church’s history. It shares how the first pastor became a missionary and how the church built a larger sanctuary to accommodate growth, and it also records watershed congregational votes on numerous issues. These events are a part of the history that has shaped my people. The church you serve may have something similar to help you learn about how God has been at work before you arrived. (And if your church doesn’t have a comparable history, you might consider contributing to such a resource for the sake of those who come after you.)

Along similar lines, you might also get to know the longest-tenured members of the church. A wise novice learns from those who are older. Visit their homes and ask questions about their experiences over the decades. Ask about the highs, lows, successes, and failures of the church. Observe and listen well. And then ask them what they’re praying that the Lord would do for the church in the future.

Learning what is behind will help you lead them forward.

Be Consistent 

When asked about leadership in an established church, my mentor once said he wanted his leadership to be marked by consistency. His example has taught me so much. And to be clear, consistent preaching, decision-making, and shepherding shaped by God’s Word is not boring leadership. It is the mark of a faithful shepherd. Like water over a rock, consistent leadership reforms rough rocks into smooth stones over time.

Churches with a long congregational memory have lived through seasons of change, some sudden and painful. They have learned, often the hard way, to be cautious with new leadership. For a young pastor, consistency becomes one of the primary ways to demonstrate that you are not there to disrupt for disruption’s sake, but to shepherd with care and conviction rooted in the Word of God.

Additionally, trust grows within a congregation when they know what kind of pastor they are getting day after day, week after week, and year after year. That steady faithfulness reassures them that you are committed to God’s Word for the long haul.

Be Patient 

Young pastors often wish to move quickly and make significant changes. These desires often come from a strong sense of conviction and a clear vision for the direction of the church. However, this impulse can simply be a young pastor seeking to validate himself as the new leader of the church. This could be devastating for both the church and the pastor.

Instead, practice patience and take a long view of your ministry. Consider what will bear more fruit in the long run. Patience is an expression of love, and it communicates to the congregation that you value people more than your agenda. Patience allows the Word to do its slow and steady work over a long period of time.

In many cases, the changes you hope to see will come through your sustained preaching, prayer, and presence rather than your quick decisions or structural overhauls. By committing to patient pastoral ministry, you will demonstrate confidence not in your own leadership ability but in the ordinary means of grace that God has promised to bless over time.

Conclusion 

Young pastor, this is the best advice I can give you as you seek to pastor a church that’s established. Admittedly, I have learned most of these lessons through mistakes I have made. By God’s grace, perhaps you can lead better than I have. And by doing so, you may save both yourself and your hearers (1 Tim. 4:16).

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Richard Baxter was feeling sick—so sick, in fact, that he had to miss a speaking engagement at an important pastors’ conference. His slated topic was the need for pastors to engage in systematic personal discipleship. While many pastors knew that they should be preaching every Sunday, few had taken seriously their responsibilities outside the pulpit. Baxter, a seventeenth-century English Puritan, believed that pastors needed to adopt a more rigorous system to ensure that all the people under their care understood the gospel and were growing spiritually.

Baxter never got to deliver this talk: instead, he wrote and published it. Today, we know it as one of the most searching and hard-hitting exhortations to pastors ever written—The Reformed Pastor.Richard Baxter,The Reformed Pastor (The Banner of Truth Trust, 1974).The first edition of this work was published in 1656. (“Reformed” here is close to the meaning of the word “reform” in “reform school.”)

The Reformed Pastor has been praised by Methodists, Congregationalists, Baptists, and Anglicans alike. Congregationalist minister John Angell James wrote: “I have made, next to the Bible, Baxter’s Reformed Pastor my rule as regards the object of my ministry.” John Wesley wrote, “Can we find a better method of [catechesis] than Mr. Baxter’s? If not, let us adopt it without delay.”

If you’re a pastor and haven’t read The Reformed Pastor, I would encourage you to pick it up and read it.

To whet your appetite and to encourage you, I want to highlight several points from the section of the book titled “The Manner of this Oversight.” Each main point is Baxter’s, but I’ve shortened, reworded, and reworked them a bit so that (hopefully) they will land effectively for modern readers. (Words in quotation marks are Baxter’s own.)

1. Aim for God’s Glory Alone, Not for Personal Ambitions

Do you secretly hope for recognition and even fame as a pastor? Personal ambition might make you a better preacher, but if it does, you’ve just become a cleverer sinner and blinded yourself to the depth of your sin. Aim for God’s glory alone, not yours.

2. Work Diligently

We are trying (through the power of God’s Spirit) to save the world from damnation, to nurture God’s people, and to overcome the devil and demolish his kingdom. Are these tasks to be accomplished with a careless mind and a lazy hand? Pastoring calls for utmost diligence.

3. Start from the Ground Up

Lay the foundation of gospel truths before building the superstructure of theology. People need milk before they eat meat. This is why the early church labored so hard to catechize would-be members before they baptized them.

4. Emphasize and Repeat the Most Essential Truths

When deciding what to preach and teach, let necessity guide you. The question is not: “What will be most impressive, impactful, or exciting?” It is, rather: “What do my people need to hear?” “If we were sufficient for everything, we might attempt everything, and take in order the whole Encyclopedia: but life is short, and we are dull, and eternal things are necessary, and the souls that depend on our teaching are precious.”

Of course, a pastor who repeats foundational truths doesn’t have to be boring. Put fresh clothes on timeless teachings.

5. Teach as Simply and Plainly as Possible

If you want to be understood, you must make yourself understandable. Don’t preach over people’s heads: learn how to connect with them. The best way to make a good case for a good cause is to make it as plain as possible. If you’re having a hard time explaining a concept to someone, is it because you don’t really understand it yourself?

6. Pastor with Humility

Pride will keep you from learning and growing. It will also keep people from hearing the important truths you have to teach. If God threw down a proud angel from heaven, would he want a proud preacher in the pulpit?

7. Balance Tenderness and Toughness

With some people, you need to speak gently and share truths that bring comfort; with others, you need to be firm and share truths that startle them out of their complacency. Get to know God’s Word, your own heart, and the hearts of others to discern which circumstance calls for which approach.

8. Take Every Aspect of Pastoral Work with Utmost Seriousness

A serious pastor need not be morose and ill-humored. A merry heart does good like medicine. But the eternal consequence of your task demands gravity, not flippancy. To talk casually about heaven and hell is as bad as not talking about them at all.

9. Do Everything with Tender Love to Your People

Your people must know that you find your greatest pleasure in doing them good, and that you are troubled when they are hurting. They should see that you care for their salvation more than you care for anything else, whether your wealth, freedom, honor, or even your own life. Most people value counsel only as much as it comes from someone who deeply cares about them. When people know you sincerely love them, they will readily listen to you.

But heed this warning: don’t use love as an excuse for not confronting their sins. Loving is not incompatible with rebuking. If you truly befriend your people, you will help them fight their worst enemies: their own sins.

10. Endure Resistance

After you study diligently, preach your heart out, meet with people, and pray for them, you may find that they don’t appreciate your efforts. They might even view you as their enemy. Endure this with patience, and continue to do good.

11. Work with Reverence

Reverence comes when you are deeply aware of God’s holy presence and communicate often with him in prayer. You are in the presence of God: live like you believe it.

A preacher who has modest skills as a communicator but speaks as if he’s in the very presence of God—that man is far more effective than an eloquent preacher who speaks irreverently. And when a preacher’s fervency isn’t matched by his reverence, his preaching becomes counterproductive.

Reject the kind of preaching that is designed to make people laugh, entertain them, or merely move their emotions instead of impressing them with a holy reverence for God. “We should, as it were, suppose we saw the throne of God, and the millions of glorious angels attending him, that we may be awed with his majesty when we draw near him in holy things, lest we profane them and take his name in vain.”

12. Lean into the Spirit-Given Power of God’s Word

There is a place for philosophy and technique, but these must always serve and not compete with God’s Word. Beware of a heart-drift that takes less delight in the plain preaching of the Bible and begins to draw more from other books and ideas. It is God’s Word, not clever ideas, that brings a person to spiritual life, and it will always resonate with true believers.

13. Keep Up a Craving to See the Fruit of Your Ministry, and Expect That It Will Come

Ministry fruit—specifically the conversion of unbelievers and the edification of believers—is what you are working for. Set your heart on these things; otherwise, you are not likely to see them happen. It’s troubling to see a pastor who can be satisfied with doing the same things year after year, with little or no fruit of his labors. “Let all who preach for Christ and men’s salvation be unsatisfied till they have the thing they preach for.”

A pastor who is happy so long as he draws a salary and people say nice things about his sermons and programs, but who never sees sinners turn to Christ—that man must be preaching for himself, but not for Christ, no matter how splendidly he preaches.

It’s true, of course, that a pastor may find comfort even when going through dry seasons of ministry. But even that man, though finding his contentment in Christ alone, will still long to see people come to Christ.

14. Realize How Utterly Inadequate You Are for the Work

“And who is adequate for such a task as this?” (2 Cor. 2:16). If Paul the apostle asked such a question, should we feel satisfied with our own powers for pastoral ministry? Quite the opposite: we must be aware every moment that we depend completely on Christ to do any good.

Until you are driven to your knees in desperation, you haven’t really understood the reality of your inadequacy. Prayer must carry on our work as well as preaching: you can’t preach earnestly to your people unless you have prayed earnestly for them. If you don’t plead with God to give them faith and repentance, you won’t persuade them to believe and repent. A pastor must be a man who speaks to God on behalf of his people before he speaks to his people on behalf of God.

15. Build Unity with Other Pastors and Churches

Don’t limit your vision to your own congregation: see and value Christ’s work in the whole church. The church as a whole is healthier when her local pastors love and fellowship with one another. Far from being the instigators of divisions, pastors should be the healers of divisions. Work and study to see how you might be part of closing up, rather than creating, breaches in the church.

The way to cultivate and maintain this harmony is to “keep to the ancient simplicity of the Christian faith, and the foundation and centre of catholic unity.” Learn the difference between essentials and peripherals, between absolutes and opinions. This doesn’t mean that you should ignore theological differences; rather, study them out to see where the real difference lies, and whether it’s a matter of primary, secondary, or tertiary importance.

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“Dad’s in the hospital again.” 

My sister’s text message was waiting for me when I woke. And so began the all-too-familiar calls and texts between us to find out what had happened. How serious is it? Do they need me to come? How’s mom doing? Fortunately, it was a minor issue that only required a brief hospital stay. But being in their late 80s, I knew that it could happen again at any moment, or that an even worse health crisis could befall them. 

Every pastor’s parents are getting older and closer to the day when they will stand before the Lord. News flash—we’re all getting closer to that same day. My parents are aging and in need of care and attention. To complicate matters further, I live eight thousand miles away. But many of the dynamics of caring for our parents as they age are the same regardless of how far we live from them. 

How should a pastor think about the needs of his parents as they age? What’s unique about a pastor’s role in caring for his aging parents? If you’re a pastor, you’re a shepherd of the souls of your church members, and you’ve likely spent time praying and sharing God’s comforting words from Scripture at numerous hospital bedsides. But shepherding carries more emotional weight when the person you’re ministering to is your mom or dad. 

The Scriptures exhort us to honor our parents from childhood, and this task lasts until they meet the Lord (Ex. 20:12). It’s often been noted that this is the only one of the Ten Commandments that comes with a promise, highlighting for us its importance. Paul’s instruction to Timothy regarding widows is informed by our responsibility to parents when they enter a season of vulnerability. 

Honor widows who are truly widows. But if a widow has children or grandchildren, let them first learn to show godliness to their own household and to make some return to their parents, for this is pleasing in the sight of God. (1 Tim. 5:3–4) 

The children of vulnerable parents have an even greater responsibility to care for their parents than their church does. David protected his parents when King Saul sought his life. Knowing that Saul would set out to do them harm, David escorted his parents to safe harbor with the king of Moab (the ancestral home of his grandmother Ruth) before seeking refuge himself (1 Sam. 22:3–4). And surely the household management of an elder (1 Tim. 3:1–7) could be understood to include caring for the needs of parents as they age. Even as Jesus hung on the cross, he directed John to care for his mother Mary (John 19:26–27). Caring for our parents as best we can until they die is a fundamental duty of all Christians. 

Here are three ways a pastor can care for his aging parents well. 

Initiate Loving Communication 

I don’t know many aging parents whose spirits wouldn’t be lifted by a call or visit from their son. Your initiative in talking to them will communicate concern, even if the conversations are brief. When we moved to Dubai 23 years ago, it became much more difficult for our parents to reach out to us. I grew frustrated with their lack of initiative. Eventually, I realized that the responsibility was primarily mine. To make communication easier for them, we purchased video calling devices that didn’t require much technical know-how and installed them in their home. As they’ve approached their nineties, we’ve also become convicted that we need to travel back to see them several times a year, when possible. 

Even though we’re pastors, sometimes our relationship with our parents is strained. Some aren’t Christians and disagree with our calling. Others might struggle with mental illness. One pastor friend found himself shying away from spending time with his parents, even though they lived in the same city, because their relationship was fraught with tension. A fellow pastor urged him to make time for his parents a priority, even though it was challenging. 

Your situation may not require telecommunication installations or warrant as many transatlantic flights as we take to see our parents. But the necessity of initiating loving communication with them is well-founded because it’s based on the Lord’s loving initiative with us. “God so loved the world” that he took the initiative and “gave his only Son” without us asking for him (John 3:16). Love initiates. 

Consider Physical, Emotional, and Spiritual Needs 

As our parents’ bodies age, they will inevitably begin to break down. Doctor visits increase, as does the possibility of falls or other crises. During one visit to Dubai, my father fell at the base of our staircase and broke his hip. Having a hip replacement in a foreign country was a particularly stressful experience for him and required a lot of care from us. Even now, he is being treated for his third different kind of cancer. Our weekly check-ins often begin with “How are you feeling today?” 

One way to love our parents is to ensure that they’re getting adequate healthcare. A pastor friend shared that his mother is in her 90s and has recently been diagnosed with cancer throughout her body. He needed to be involved in the difficult decision of whether to proceed with treatment or not. The decision to undergo pricey and painful treatments is often influenced by the extent to which life can be extended. 

We might face difficult vocational decisions if our parents’ health becomes a crisis. One pastor who could have easily taken a senior role in an available distant pulpit instead took a temporary junior training role in the city where his father-in-law was battling the latter stages of Alzheimer’s. He and his wife took care of him until he died. His sacrificial example is a powerful picture of Christlike love. 

We should also monitor our parents’ social-emotional well-being. During the COVID-19 pandemic, many older parents felt isolated and fearful. They went months with little social contact. When the pandemic waned, we were able to persuade my parents to move into a retirement community where their church friends lived. Since then, the daily contact with others has been uplifting. 

As pastors, we want to look out for our parents’ spiritual well-being most of all. If your parents are believers, don’t forget to pray for them or open God’s Word with them like you would with any church member in a similar situation. Helping them find a way to attend church if they’re physically able could also be a way to serve them. For parents who aren’t believers, we continue to pray, ask questions, and share the gospel as the relationship permits. 

Model Care 

Paul told the Corinthians to “be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). Your siblings and children are watching how you care for your parents. Your congregation and fellow elders are observing how you care for them. What will they learn from your example? 

Is there time in your elder meetings to share personal concerns and prayer requests, like the challenges you might be facing in caring for aging parents? Maybe it’s just a few elders that you’re closer to who need to know more. Or maybe there’s a time and place where you could tell your congregation of your need for prayer in looking after your parents. Our church covenant says we will “endeavor with tenderness and sympathy to bear each other’s burdens and sorrows.” Be sure to allow your congregation to fulfill their covenant commitments to you in this regard. 

By God’s grace, my grown children are believers, and as I’ve gently urged them to pray for and visit their grandparents, they’ve often responded sacrificially. I realize that their efforts are not only a blessing to them now, but also practice for when my wife and I might need their attention in the coming decades. 

Making Some Return 

Pastors daily feel the responsibility of shepherding the souls of their congregation. The apostle Paul felt it and wrote, “Apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (2 Cor. 11:28). But you and I must not let one God-given responsibility distract us from another: caring for our families, and even our aging parents. May God enable us to “make some return” to our parents, and so bring glory and honor to him.For further reading, I highly recommend the book Making Good Return: Biblical Wisdom on Honoring Aging Parents by Kathleen B. Neilson. 

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Pastor, I’d like to invite you to consider something that has borne significant fruit in my local church: intentionally grounding corporate prayer in the point of the sermon text.

I don’t mean merely quoting from or mentioning the sermon text in the pastoral prayer. I mean letting the main thrust of your sermon passage shape your corporate prayers of praise, confession, lament, and petition.

Over time, I’ve seen what happens when the prayers of the church are tethered to the sermon text, and I want to commend this practice to you. Here are four specific ways this can be a blessing to your church.

1. It Reinforces Your Sermon

When the theme of the text appears not only in your sermon but also in the prayers of the service, the congregation hears the truth of the text multiple times, in multiple forms (i.e., praise, confession, lament, and petition), and from multiple voices. By the time the sermon is preached, the truths you’re proclaiming will have already been sprinkled into the hearts of your people several times. And your people don’t even have to be aware of all that’s happening for the repetition to do its good and quiet work. Even if your people can’t fully articulate why the service feels unified, this way of reinforcing the truth will still have a powerful effect on them.

2. It Models How to Pray Scripture

When leaders pray the themes of the text, they are teaching the congregation how to read and respond to the Bible with prayerful devotion. They’re modeling, in real time, how to take a passage of Scripture and pray the very words of God back to him. Members have told me repeatedly that our Sunday prayers teach them how to pray the Bible. That alone is reason enough to consider this practice.

But there’s another benefit I didn’t initially anticipate. Praying the point of the text means the congregation hears the passage not only through my voice as the preacher but also through the voices of other godly saints. More than once, someone leading a prayer has applied the text in a way I hadn’t seen in my many hours of sermon preparation. In fact, there have been occasions when something prayed during the service was so obviously helpful that it found its way into my sermon moments later.

3. It Guards Against Unhelpfully Generic Prayers

We’ve all heard (and prayed) orthodox, yet unhelpfully generic prayers.

“Just bless this time.”

“Forgive us where we fail you.”

“Be with those who are traveling.”

None of those requests are wrong, but neither are they particularly edifying. The Scriptures do not typically leave us with abstractions. They address husbands and wives, parents and children, elders and members, sufferers and sinners. Our prayers, in turn, should follow the grain of the text. Not “Grow me somehow,” but “Help me apply this truth to my soul.” Not “Forgive me generally,” but “Cleanse the sin that this text revealed in my soul.” Not “Bless me broadly,” but “Give what you command in this text.”

4. It Unifies the Entire Service

It’s helpful to think of corporate worship not as a collection of spiritual moments but as a cohesive experience shaped by the various facets of the gospel jewel that the Word of God reveals to us in the sermon text. The service then begins to feel integrated rather than segmented. The congregation senses that we are doing one thing: responding together to what God has said.

Putting This into Practice in Your Own Church 

If this sounds like something you’d like to implement in your own services, here are four practical suggestions to get you started.

First, encourage those who lead prayers in the service to study the sermon text ahead of time. Reading and meditating on its truths will be a blessing to them and to the congregation as the corporate prayers are increasingly shaped by God’s Word.

Second, if you’re able, finish your sermon manuscript early enough to share the main point and some potential applications with those who will be praying in the service. Even a rough draft can be helpful. Send what you have by Friday evening so that those who are working on prayers don’t feel rushed in their preparation.

Third, conduct service reviews. This is one way those who pray corporately can receive godly encouragement and correction. It helps pastors and all members pray edifying prayers when they receive feedback. These reviews can address everything from truths stated unclearly to things like unnecessary repetition, verbal tics, volume, tone, and the words that were used in the prayer.

Fourth, whether it’s you or another elder, model these kinds of prayers for a season to set an example for your people. When I got to my church almost nine years ago, I modeled praying the point of the text for about six months before I invited other members to do the same.

 
Conclusion 

Pastor, consider the value of letting your sermon text shape not only what you preach but also how your church prays. Over time, you may find (as our church has) that the Word begins to saturate your worship in ways you didn’t anticipate, producing fruit that blesses your people and brings greater glory to God.

The post Let the Point of Your Sermon Text Shape Your Church’s Corporate Prayers appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

As pastors we live in plain view of God’s people. God designs it this way so that the flock can observe and emulate our faith (Heb. 13:7; 1 Pet. 5:3). Our people need to see how we practice what we preach in every area of life—including how we suffer.

The past few years have been a uniquely trying season for my family and me. We’ve endured numerous hardships that have changed nearly everything about our lives. In December 2023, my oldest daughter had a seizure that lasted twenty-six hours and forced her onto life support. That was followed by a six-month hospital stay. This coincided with my mother’s brutal battle with pancreatic cancer. Other trials during this time have only been shared with a small circle of friends.

Suffering drains us physically, emotionally, and spiritually, and we don’t feel like we have the strength to keep going, let alone help others keep going. We are tempted to question things about God that we never thought we would. Sharing our weaknesses can bring shame, guilt, and anxiety over how people might respond.

Yet part of leadership is modeling how to trust God in suffering. As you consider how to steward your own afflictions, you’ll be confronted with the question: How much of my suffering should I share with my people?  No two pastors or church situations are identical (Prov. 14:10), so you’ll need the Lord’s wisdom, which he gladly supplies (Jas. 1:5; Prov. 3:5–6). I want to offer nine questions, however, to help you discern how much of your suffering to share and how to do it wisely.

1. Who Are Your Closest Companions?

Scripture shows us that Jonathan “strengthened David’s hand in God” when David was on the brink of despair (1 Sam. 23:16). We all need Jonathans in our lives. Who are the brothers who were born for your day of adversity? Who can you call, no matter what time it is, and pour out your heart to? Who can you weep with and confess your doubts, fears, and the unraveling you’re experiencing? To survive in life and ministry, you must have a few close friends.

Open your heart to these trusted brothers and hold nothing back. Allow them to bear your burden. Ask them for wisdom about how much and when to share. Since grief can cloud our ability to see reality rightly, we need faithful counselors to help us remain steady under the Lord’s mighty hand.

2. Have You Involved Your Fellow Elders?

Your fellow elders are your pastors, which means God has called them to care for your soul. Hopefully, some of them are those trusted friends I just mentioned. But even if not, they need to know what you’re going through so they can offer prayer and encouragement. They also need to be able to speak into how much you share with the rest of the church, which means they need to know how your suffering is impacting your family. My elders loved me remarkably well in our season of suffering.

But what if your elders aren’t as helpful, or if they’re actually the source of your sorrow? That’s tragic, but not uncommon. If you can trust at least one or two of them, start there. If you don’t have that level of trust with any of your fellow pastors, find a pastor friend outside your church who can offer unbiased counsel and assist in any needed mediation.

3. Will Sharing Publicly Bless Your Wife?

When you suffer, your wife suffers as well. God calls you to live with her in an understanding way (1 Pet. 3:7), and caring for her is part of what qualifies you to shepherd God’s flock. Stay attentive, then, and listen to her. If you have to choose between using your limited strength to care for your church or for your wife, choose your wife. The church can get another pastor, but your wife can’t get another husband. And remember that the two of you will likely not grieve in the same way. My wife and I learned this over time, and it brought tension and additional trials. But God will help you, even as he’s helping us.

One practical way to care for your wife is to make sure that she approves of whatever you share with the church. You may need to help her understand why you think you should share something, or you may need to be humble enough to follow her counsel. Pray about it together and ask God to give you unity in your decision. If the two of you are struggling in any way, involve other elders and a sister she feels comfortable with. God will help you. Don’t give up.

4. Will Sharing Honor Your Children?

If the suffering includes your children, be careful not to dishonor them in what you share. If possible, make sure you have their permission before sharing something that involves or reflects on them. In our case, Eden was in a coma, and we did not know if she would live. Once she eventually regained consciousness, we made sure that any posts or updates were approved by her. We desired to honor her, not exploit her. Being a pastor’s child is hard enough as it is.

There are, of course, many unique situations. Maybe your child is handicapped, neurodivergent, or especially rebellious. In such cases, guard them (as much as possible) from becoming a public spectacle or from being unnecessarily scrutinized by the flock.

5. Should You Share Now or Wait Until Later?

Timing matters. Some things need to be shared immediately. Tragedies, for instance, tend to force our hand. In such cases, either you or another elder can share with the church what has happened. This should be followed by instructions for the church on how to get updates and provide help.

Allowing for some time to pass may be best if you’re unsure about when to share. I’ve found that God used my (more immediate) raw testimony as well as my more thought-out version in useful ways, though quite differently. Ask those closest to you for counsel on the timing aspect of sharing.

6. Are You Vulnerable in Personal Conversations?

I’m likely to share most anything interpersonally if I feel like it might be beneficial. If, for example, someone shares about their own suffering, I might feel obliged to share about ours. Or it could be something as simple as someone asking, “How are you doing?” I’ve learned to be honest in my response by saying something like, “It’s been a hard season, but God is holding us together,” or, “We’re stable, so you can keep us in your prayers.” Those aren’t flippant words; they’re moments of vulnerability that God can use to help a fellow saint support you in your suffering.

7. Will It Bless the Church to Share This Publicly?

God’s people not only need to hear you preach, but they also need to see that you live what you preach. That you don’t just know your sermons but need them. Don’t underestimate how much they are blessed by seeing God sustain you in suffering and weakness. It can help cultivate in them humility, vulnerability, and hopeful authenticity.

On several occasions, I received texts, emails, or personal words of encouragement about how people had been helped by watching me trust God during my trials. One Sunday afternoon, someone texted with a picture of my wife and me standing next to my dying mother and our fresh-out-of-the-hospital daughter. The message said, “Pastor, seeing you and Carrie trust God in this horrible season has helped my faith grow. Thank you.” They’d heard me tell them thousands of times that Jesus was worth whatever it costs to follow him, and now they were seeing me being forced to live it.

If a pastor never shares the burdens of his heart or his struggles, his preaching and pastoring can seem robotic or like a mere academic exercise. Carefully opening the windows on your life so people can see the messiness of your faith can help others open up and become more vulnerable.

8. Will Sharing Distract the Church’s Attention from Christ?

Sometimes pastors share about their personal life in a way that tends to dominate the attention of the church. The focus shifts from Christ to the pastor and his family. Certainly, if the pastor is enduring a tragedy, there should be a concerted focus on praying for and supporting him and his family. But if the pastor shares too often or if he references his situation repeatedly in his sermons, it can distract from the point of the text. I tend to share more openly than most pastors, which means I have to be very careful here. Unfortunately, there have been times where I’ve probably crossed the line.

One pastor friend who battles with chronic pain said, “I’m careful to share sporadically but consistently. Sharing once a year about my disability and depression is only once every 52 weeks (not a lot); but over fifteen years, that’s fifteen times vulnerably sharing about my physical and emotional pain.” This approach gives people a glimpse into their pastor’s life and helps them know how to pray for him. Instead of dominating the church’s attention, the pastor’s faith encourages members in their own suffering.

9. What’s the Best Setting to Share This with the Congregation?

The most sensitive information should likely only be shared at a members’ meeting. Evening or midweek prayer services also offer an opportunity to relay updates and receive prayer in a more intimate setting. Several years ago, one of our pastors shared at an evening service about how he and his wife had endured a decade-long struggle with infertility. His tender tears and trust in God stirred the flock to express their love for this couple and intercede on their behalf.

A Sunday morning service offers the broadest exposure, but prayers should not become veiled announcements. It’s best to provide an update about the situation first and then pray about it. If you share something in your sermon, don’t let it distract from the preaching of God’s Word.

10. Are You Ready to Trust God with His People’s Response?

Sharing comes with a risk. We don’t know how our people will respond, as every pastor and every church are unique. Some will weep with you, pray for you, and love you well. Others will care somewhat and possibly pray, but they see you as more of a spiritual provider who should be above his circumstances. Still others will care but (unintentionally) respond in unhelpful ways, like trying to cast out a demon, saying things to your wife that upset her, or “prophesying God’s message over you.” Some people will assume that the suffering is your fault and gossip about it. And some may see it as an opportunity to gain control of the church, or even to force you out. Typically, the more mature your church, the more open you can be.

Regardless of how your people respond, and even if you make mistakes along the way, keep your eyes on God, who promises to work all things for your good, which includes your suffering (Rom. 8:28). He wastes nothing. As you allow your people to see your hope being refined, you can trust that God will refine theirs too.

The post How Much of My Suffering Should I Share with My People? appeared first on 9Marks.

Michael Reeves, Come, You Weary: Enjoy Christ’s Comfort. Union Publishing, 2025. 62 pages.

Often, the persistent, faithful laboring of the pastor can feel like trekking up an endless mountainside in a perpetual blizzard. The icy pellets of critics constantly sting your face. The winds of culture threaten to push you off course. Lack of spiritual progress in those you’ve so heavily invested in envelops you like a snowy whiteout, shrouding the way forward. In time, every step forward feels like a step closer to being overwhelmed, and many begin to wonder how, or even why, they should continue up the mountain. Those who were once zealous alpinists, glowingly determined to reach the summit, now find themselves searching for the nearest ski lift back down to the base. To the reader who finds themselves in such a place, I daresay that Michael Reeves’s short book is like catching a glimpse of light through the snowfall and, upon further searching, finding that it emanates from the soft, candlelit glow of a well-warmed cabin. Here is a place where the tired and cold can find comfort; the spent and stung might receive respite. In short, this book, true to its name, is a place for the weary, and it bids you come.

In the opening chapter, Reeves gently cracks open the door and, placing an arm around all the exhausted, worn, downtrodden ministers of the Word, warmly invites them in for a drink. As he says, “To you, today—wherever you are and whatever you are feeling. Come to the waters. Come, without money and without price. Don’t let your emptiness become a constant state, but recognise it as a thirst, and drink deeply from this fountain” (14). Refreshingly, what Reeves offers is not his own brewed concoction of encouragement and motivation. Rather, he extends to the reader a cup drawn from the living, animating well of the Word of God.

This is the author’s emphasis in the second chapter, where the weary worker’s thoughts are directed by the signposts of Scripture to the future image of Christ, exalted. Reeves meets his reader as a guide by exclaiming, “We need a fresh vision: the enlightening sight of the glory that confers vitality” (16). He spends the rest of this chapter framing and mounting this portrait of the Lord who holds “all things under his feet” (Eph. 1:22a) so that we might see that no matter how defeated we feel, Jesus is, and always will be, victorious. Chapter 3 then offers a beautiful linking of logic and love to show how we, as fallen humans, are now partakers of this victory. Yet, being reminded of position, alone, is often not enough to raise the spirits of the deeply discouraged.

This is, precisely, why Reeves spends the next two chapters drawing out the heart of Jesus for his people. Reflect on the author’s words, here:

Weary, stumbling Christian, since Christ has shed his blood for you, do you really think he could not care about you? That you are alone in your weariness and distress? He humbled himself for us; he endured the most awful suffering, rejection, and death for us; and he was exalted for us, to bring us to glory. (26)

This passage wonderfully highlights the beauty of this book: its simplicity. Surely, we know these things to be true. We use them to comfort our hurting brothers and sisters almost daily. But, oh, how difficult it can be to press these into our own wearied hearts! Do you doubt, even now, that the Lord cares for you, if you are his? He gave himself over to death for you. His care is proven, and his commitment to your good shall not waver. Take heart unto glory!

Reeves’s sixth and seventh chapters pull the reader up to a “mountain-top gospel perspective” (31) by showing that ascending intellect should be paired with the lifting heart. This involves realizing that the missio dei will not be disrupted or derailed by his workers’ weaknesses or failures. There is one who heads up God’s plan of salvation, and it’s not any of us. That should allow the faithful, tired minister to relax their shoulders and see that Jesus shares their yoke. Jesus does not lend his strength out of mere duty or obligation.

As the preceding couple of chapters emphasize, Jesus joyfully engages his people as a husband overflowing with love for his bride. It can be particularly easy for pastors and church leaders to, without even realizing it, feel like employees of Jesus. This subtle shift only serves to remove the pressure valve of joy from the crushing pressure of ministry work. But this is not the way Jesus sees his people. Ministers are members of his church, and he is committed by love and blood to his bride. As Reeves puts it, “This is the heavenly bridegroom: one who will not rest, will not stop, until his bride is glorified and all the world gasps at her beauty” (43). This is the love of Christ, overflowing and ever-spilling into the cups of his beloved. Finally, Reeves bids us to stand and ready ourselves for the next leg of our endeavor by showing the reader a picture of the mountain peak.

In Chapter 11, the author forges a chain of passages that are intended to bind the goal of glory to the reader’s chest. The glory of God is both the purpose and goal of the church’s work, and it is to this end that Christ is also working. Reeves describes this conjoined labor simply and beautifully by penning, “Through the church, Christ fills the universe with his glory . . . He will irradiate them with his glory” (52). The author then closes the book by exhorting the reader to remember that this fullness can only be found at the source, and the thirsty must go there to be refreshed. In this way, weariness is a reminder for our souls to come to Jesus and drink.

Now, to those who only make margin for reading books of particular provocation, I admit that Come, You Weary boasts nothing novel nor controversial. Instead, its mereness serves as a finely crafted pedestal, simple in form yet splendid in fashion as it holds high the beauty of Christ. The book neither vies for attention nor distracts from this purpose; nay, its every chapter extends upward to support it. It guides our eyes, which may be tracing downward to the muck and mire, to gaze heavenward upon the once crucified Christ. Reeves is relentless in this, otherwise, mundane way, revealing on nearly every page the majesty of Jesus as the only rest for the weary.

As for length and accessibility, I read this book in one sitting before bed. Additionally, the author has included helpful questions for each chapter to help foster both individual reflection and group discussion. As such, Reeves’s short work is one for both pastors and members to keep close at hand to crack open like a spiritual first aid kit when their hearts are inevitably dragged low by the millstone of the world. In these times, the reader may find that Michael Reeves has lovingly provided both the comforting salve and the hand holds to climb the mountain of glory.

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When we hear about being “discipled,” we often picture a one-on-one relationship or a small group setting, and those are important ways in which we grow as Christians. But have you thought about how discipleship happens through the gathered church?

Scripture teaches us how to use our time together—how to “do church”—and each element of our services is designed by God to disciple you and to give you opportunities to disciple others in your church family. Consider, then, how the following elements of corporate worship shape our discipleship.

Singing 

From the earliest church gatherings, Christians have sung together. In fact, congregational singing is a distinctive feature of biblical Christianity. As Paul writes to the church at Colossae, “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God” (Col. 3:16).

Christians sing with “thankfulness” to God, and this is a primary way we express love for, adoration of, and praise to Christ, our Savior and Lord. But according to Paul, singing also builds others up. That is, we sing for one another’s discipleship. And this singing shouldn’t be a performance from the stage to the congregation. Church singing is the church singing.

Some songs are addressed to God while others are addressed to one another, and many songs move in both directions. Since teaching and discipling others is one of the purposes of singing, we should sing heartily, as to the Lord. You may feel tired, weak, or self-conscious about your voice, but be willing to put others first by singing boldly with them and to them. They need it, just like you do.

This doesn’t mean we should only sing joyful songs when we gather. Our singing should reflect both the joys and the sorrows of the Christian life, as God ordains both (Phil. 1:29). In this way, the weak and suffering are helped to sing and are ministered to in their pain. We may not remember powerful sermons from ten years ago, but we often remember powerful, gospel-saturated songs for decades.

Corporate Prayer 

We also pray together in church. Repeatedly in Acts, we see the gathered church praying (2:42; 3:1; 6:4), as this was one of the Spirit’s chief means of driving the church forward. The same thing is true today.

Usually in our services one person leads the congregation in prayer, which means each week we’re being taught how to pray. We can learn from good prayers and good prayers. So next time you’re asked to pray in church, make every effort to pray in a way that accords with God’s Word, because you’re discipling others to do the same.

Corporate Scripture Reading 

Reading Scripture together is another way we’re discipled in the gathering. Just as Paul tells Timothy to “devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture” (1 Tim. 4:13), so we should hear Scripture read and read it to others in our services. The importance of hearing Scripture is underlined by Paul’s words later in 2 Timothy 3:16–17, where he writes, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.”

God’s Word is powerful and life-giving, and it provides us with spiritual nourishment. As it’s read publicly, it exposes people’s souls and speaks into their circumstances. Similar to how we counsel individuals with Scripture in one-on-one settings, so also we use the Scriptures to counsel the church corporately.

Preaching God’s Word 

One of the primary ways we are discipled is by hearing God’s Word preached. The Scriptures teach and shape the church into greater maturity in Christlikeness (Col. 1:28). It’s important, then, that we learn to listen well. At a practical level, some are helped by taking notes, and most people find it helpful to keep their Bibles open so that they can follow what’s being said and stay focused.

We can also benefit from the preached Word by talking about the sermon after the service or during the week with fellow members and with our own families. Ask others what they learned or what stood out to them. This is one way we encourage one another to listen well.

Baptism and the Lord’s Supper 

When we baptize people, we affirm the credibility of their profession of faith and welcome them into the church. And when we take the Lord’s Supper together, we reaffirm our profession of faith as well as the profession of others as we identify publicly as Christ’s body. This meal is not just a private moment between you and God; it’s the whole church affirming these truths together.

Can you see how the ordinances are public, visible proclamations of the gospel that teach, shape, and disciple the whole congregation? Through them we’re reminded of the gospel; of our identity as God’s people; of our commitment to one another; of what repentance, faith, and confession look like; and of the importance of personal and corporate holiness.

Fellowship 

Corporate discipleship doesn’t end at the benediction or closing prayer. If you’re able, don’t rush off after the service. Stick around and talk with others with the intention of encouraging them (and being encouraged by them). At a family meal, you don’t eat and then leave as quickly as possible. The food nourishes you, but so do the people around you. Church is family time!

Conclusion 

Discipleship in the gathered church isn’t just the pastor’s job but the job of every member. Ideally, everyone is being discipled and discipling others. Therefore, we want to make the most of every opportunity with this God-given privilege and responsibility.

The post The Elements of Corporate Worship and Christian Discipleship appeared first on 9Marks.

Early in our ministry, my wife and I made a commitment. Our kids would never hear us say anything negative about anyone in the church. We also vowed to rotate our tires every five thousand miles and floss nightly. 

Our intentions were good. 

We thought we could protect our kids from bitterness by shielding them from the uglier parts of church life. But the reality of being a pastor made it impossible to hide sin in the church from our children, including their parents’ sometimes sinful responses to hard circumstances. We also failed to rotate our tires regularly, and sadly, some nights we even went to bed without flossing. 

We shouldn’t—indeed, we can’t—fool our children into believing the church is full of shiny happy people. A better goal, one that is more realistic and grounded in the gospel, is this: we can help protect our children from bitterness by modeling gospel love for God’s people as we put off resentment and put on graciousness. Using Ephesians 4:31–32 as a guide, we’ll consider practical steps we can take as pastors to identify resentment and cultivate graciousness. 

Spotting Resentment (v. 31) 

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. 

Our first challenge might be realizing that we are modeling resentment to our children. Perhaps resentment has lingered in our hearts for so long that we’re not aware of its presence. Resentment can vary in intensity, so when it ebbs, we think we’ve eradicated it. Maybe we catalog all the sacrifices we make for the church and conclude that someone who loves the church as much as we do can’t be resentful. 

Undiagnosed resentment in our hearts festers, breaking through in unexpected ways, teaching our children that it’s normal to feel aggrieved by Christ’s church. In Ephesians 4:31, Paul helps us identify blind spots to resentment. 

1. Resentment Is Revealed in Our Attitude 

One way we spot resentment is in our general demeanor toward people. Paul warns us to put away “bitterness.” Bitterness is a “sharpness” in our hearts, a visceral response of spite or anger. 

There are telltale signs of a resentful attitude. We can’t stop thinking about that situation in which we were wronged. We turn it around in our minds like meat on a spit, considering the injustice from various angles. With each rotation, there is a sharp pain and flash of anger. 

Another sign of resentment is self-pity. Our eyes fixate not on our abundant riches but on our perceived lack. How hard our lives are compared to others in the church! How unfair that while others go on nice vacations and enjoy holidays, we’re stuck preparing sermons and visiting people in the hospital! 

2. Resentment Is Revealed in Our Anger 

Paul uses two nearly synonymous terms in verse 31: anger and wrath. If there is a difference between the two terms, the first might refer to outward acts and the latter to inward emotions. Both are sinful. We blow up, and everyone within the blast radius feels the heat. Or our anger smolders, and we don’t even consciously realize it is there. 

Our family notices. They sense something is off, even if they’re too young to articulate why. 

“Dad is . . . ‘frustrated,’” we explain. 

But the truth is uglier: Dad is angry. 

3. Resentment Is Revealed in Our Speech 

“Clamor” and “slander” refer to the verbalization of resentment. We come home from a tough day of meetings, and the resentment that has been building all day spews out of our mouths. We rant against “dumb meetings” and “pointless phone calls.” We ascribe sinful motives to those with whom we disagree. Even short, innocuous statements reflect resentment: “Well, that’s Dan for you,” we bemoan. “He’s spiritually immature.” 

As we recognize the sin of resentment, we need to confess that it contradicts the truths of the gospel we proclaim. Where our children have seen our resentment, they also need to see our repentance. They’ve heard the tone of annoyance at how hard life is and seen the scowl pass over our face when someone’s name is mentioned. Now our children need to hear us acknowledge our sin and see us model putting off sinful responses of resentment. 

Cultivating Grace (v. 32) 

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. 

Those who are in Christ don’t just “put off” resentment. They also “put on” graciousness. The hope of Ephesians 4:32 is that being a Christian means growing in graciousness. Let’s consider three practical steps we can take as pastors to help our children see what it looks like to grow in graciousness as we “put on” Christ. 

1. Celebrate the Kindness of God’s People to Our Family 

A pastor’s family possesses a unique vantage point. Our daily bread—and warm home and nice clothes and fun vacations—all come from the Lord but directly through the generosity of his people. I’m talking about their tithes and offerings and gifts by which we receive our salaries. Every pastor should celebrate the church’s generosity with his family. 

I once made the mistake of mentioning from the pulpit that my daughter was saving for a guinea pig. Within hours, we received three separate offers of gently used guinea pigs. Was this the generosity of God’s people or examples of guinea pig buyer’s remorse? From my perspective, a bit of both. But to our daughter, it was proof that her church loves caring for her. And that is what we and our new guinea pig, Millie, celebrated. 

2. Nurture a Tender Heart Toward God’s People 

One of two things happens to pastors as we age: we either become more bitter or more gracious. 

It’s easy to see how one might become bitter. After decades of ministry, the betrayals have piled up. There are a dozen hard situations our minds could dwell on that remind us of the failures of God’s people. 

But bitterness flies in the face of Paul’s instruction. We are to be “tenderhearted” or “compassionate” as we think about the lambs entrusted to us. Year after year, we’ve seen people respond to the gospel! There are thousands of stories of God’s grace we can call to mind. Like the psalmist who begins to recount God’s wondrous deeds, we are forced at some point to simply stop because they are “more than can be told!” (Ps. 40:5). Our children should hear us recounting God’s incredible work among his people far more frequently than bemoaning their faults. 

Another way we help our children develop a tender heart toward people in the church is to “contextualize” sin. This doesn’t mean to excuse sin or pretend it doesn’t exist. It means helping them understand why fallen people in a fallen world hurt and hurt others. It means helping them develop hearts of compassion toward fellow sinners, particularly those ensnared by sin’s deceitfulness (2 Tim. 2:25–26). When they see people lash out, we remind them that people usually aren’t upset with Dad. He just happens to be close enough to hurting people to get hit by the shrapnel. In fact, we acknowledge that sometimes Dad may have been the one who inadvertently hurt them! This doesn’t mean sinful responses are validated. It means we’re helping our children see that we should extend to others the same graciousness we ourselves need. 

3. Be in Awe of God’s Grace Toward Our Family 

The call to forgive in verse 32 is a call to lavish on others the same grace we ourselves received. Paul lived in awe of God’s graciousness in entrusting a ministry to him. He wasn’t resentful that he was given a difficult ministry but thanked God for his merciful gift of a ministry (1 Tim. 1:12–17). 

There are sacrifices pastoral families make. There are late nights and early mornings. There are seasons we labor harder than other people (though fewer than we think). When my eldest daughter got married, she was scandalized when her husband parked halfway back in the parking lot at church. She thought all good Christians had to park as far from the front entrance as possible. 

But these “sacrifices” are not loss but gain! Our children need to see us live in awe that God allows us to be pastors. They need to see by our response to hard circumstances that we believe our ministry comes with an eternal reward (1 Pet. 5:4)! 

Our children didn’t need us to pretend the church was perfect. They needed us to help protect them from bitterness by modeling gospel love for God’s people as we put off resentment and put on graciousness. Our original plan to never let our children hear us say anything negative about the church was naïve. But by God’s grace, our four children—all in their early to mid-twenties—love the church. God graciously protected them from the “root of bitterness”—not through parents who never struggled with bitterness, but through the same grace of the gospel their parents received (1 John 4:7–8). 

The post Protecting Your Children from Bitterness Against the Church appeared first on 9Marks.

What if the best day of your week was the day you spent with God’s people? That sounds great, but if we’re honest, Sundays can feel like a grind. Another class to teach, another service to plan, more music sheets to print out, more doors to be opened, more conversations to be had—and plenty of other responsibilities. If we’re not careful, we can start feeling apprehensive about Sundays rather than savoring them.

In order to savor Sundays, we need to start by being reminded of the significance and purpose of the Lord’s Day. The focus is not on a 24-hour period of regulations and rules but on gathering with God’s people to worship him. Jesus rose from the dead and met with his people on a Sunday (John 20:19), and on the following Sunday he met with them again (John 20:26). After his resurrection, his followers assembled on Sundays (1 Cor. 16:2), and the apostle John received his revelation of Jesus Christ (what we know of as the book of Revelation) on “the Lord’s Day” (Rev. 1:10).As early as the Didache (c. AD 90-100), we’re told that Christians met on the Lord’s Day. See https://www.earlychristianwritings.com/text/didache-roberts.html. Justin Martyr (AD 155) referred to this day as the first day of the week, the day Jesus rose from the dead. See https://www.ccel.org/ccel/richardson/fathers.x.ii.iii.html. While Scripture does not prescribe the number of times we should gather or the length of our meetings, Christians have often met morning and evening (or afternoon) in order to structure the whole day around worshiping the risen Christ.

With this background in mind, I want to offer ten suggestions to help make the Lord’s Day a day that you anticipate and enjoy, and a day that centers on gathering with God’s people for worship. To clarify, these suggestions are not meant to be burdensome or binding but to give us space to delight in this foretaste of heaven. Faithful Christians may disagree over what’s prudent or permissible on the Lord’s Day, but regardless of your view, there is great benefit in being intentional about how we approach this day.

1. Receive the Weekly Rhythm of Worship

Humans are creatures of rhythm. Summer leads to fall, and winter always gives way to spring. The sun rises in the morning and gives way to the moon at night. We don’t live in a perpetual state of work, recreation, or rest. Rhythms help us live according to God’s design. And when Jesus rose from the dead, a new rhythm of worship began. The Lord’s Day is the time each week when Christians cease from their other responsibilities and activities to meet with Jesus and his people. This rhythm reminds us that our true citizenship is in heaven.

2. Prepare for Sundays with Intentionality

A holiday well spent is a holiday prepared for with intention. We invite our friends, buy the food, and wrap the gifts. Christians too have a holiday, not once a year but once a week. Therefore, we should intentionally prepare our hearts and schedules for Sundays. It can be tempting to use Sunday to catch up on laundry, do the grocery shopping, meal prep, and a thousand other things. But as you’re able, plan to take care of as many duties as possible during the week to free up Sunday. Give yourself time to linger after the service, to accept an invitation to someone’s home, or simply to read a book, take a walk, or enjoy a nap. We want to be “devoting ourselves to the pursuit of those things that promote the enjoyment of God.”Tim Challies, “Delight in the Lord’s Day,” Challies.com, July 19, 2009,  https://www.challies.com/quotes/delight-in-the-lords-day/. Challies reflections are based on Donald S. Whitney’s book Simplify Your Spiritual Life: 90 Ways to Make the Spiritual Disciplines Less Overwhelming and More Sustainable (NavPress, 2026). This leads naturally to the next two suggestions.

3. Use Saturdays to Serve Sundays

Kevin DeYoung once noted, “The Christian uses Saturday not just to recover from Friday but to prepare for Sunday.”Kevin DeYoung (@RevKevDeYoung), Twitter (now X), January 17, 2015, https://x.com/revkevdeyoung/status/556454101337124865?s=46. The best way to use a Saturday night is to serve Sunday morning. Granted, work and family schedules differ, and there are often factors that are beyond our control, but the point remains: don’t be careless about your Saturday. As a child, my parents tried to get me to finish my homework by Saturday night. While there was often still a Sunday afternoon scurry to finish my work, their goal impacted me. It’s worth asking, “How can I use Saturday to guard Sunday?”

4. Read, Re-Read and Discuss the Sermon Passage

Read, meditate, and ask questions on the upcoming sermon text. If your church doesn’t publish the upcoming text, ask one of your pastors. I usually email our church members the upcoming passage and solicit their questions. This should whet your appetite for the main feast, as you begin to smell the aroma of God’s Word. Give your soul time to crave it. Then after the service, share what you received with others. I once visited a church and was encouraged as numerous members went to lunch afterward to discuss the sermon. Let the Word reverberate in your home. Ask your children what was encouraging for them. Re-read the sermon passage as a family before you go to bed. Allow the day to become an echo chamber of God’s Word.

5. Make Gathering with God’s People a Non-Negotiable

This is a tough task in a world where youth sports, adult leagues, and birthday parties are increasingly scheduled for Sunday mornings. But what if we taught our children that the Lord’s Day gatherings are more important than their games, recitals, and parties? Or to take another example, what if we tried to guard Sunday from always being the final travel day before work on Monday? However we choose to prioritize the Lord’s Day, we want our decisions to communicate that the gathering is a non-negotiable. For “our greatest privilege and most important responsibility on the Lord’s day is to worship Him with His people.”Challies, “Delight in the Lord’s Day,” Challies.com, July 19, 2009, https://www.challies.com/quotes/delight-in-the-lords-day/. Challies reflections are again based on Donald S. Whitney’s book Simplify Your Spiritual Life: 90 Ways to Make the Spiritual Disciplines Less Overwhelming and More Sustsainable (NavPress, 2026).

6. Shape the Whole Day Around Delighting in God

Instead of merely thinking of the Lord’s Day in terms of a service that lasts an hour and a half, consider how you can make use of the entire day. This forces you to slow down and set other things aside. If your church gathers again in the evening, this will be a natural way to frame the day. But even if you don’t have an evening service, try to think of ways you can bless others rather than simply starting on your Monday to-do list. For instance, you’re less likely to get back into the “grind” when you make time for a church member to linger in your living room after lunch. Allow the day to be shaped by enjoying God through his Word, through his creation (good food and nature), and through his people.

7. Practice Ordinary, Imperfect Hospitality

Hospitality doesn’t have to be a dinner party. At its core, it involves inviting others into our lives, and Sunday is often a great day for this. Commenting on Lord’s Day hospitality, Rosaria Butterfield notes that we might be “the way of escape” for brothers and sisters in Christ as God uses our ordinary hospitality to rescue them from isolation and sin.Rosaria Butterfield, “Your Lord’s Day Might Be Someone Else’s Way of Escape,” 9Marks, November 14, 2018, https://www.9marks.org/article/your-lords-day-might-be-someone-elses-way-of-escape/. By opening our homes on a Sunday afternoon, we might be doing more than providing friendship.

8. Rethink Rest as an Act of Trusting God

If we think of Sundays as merely a day of rest, we might be tempted to skip the gathering to spend the day watching Netflix or pro football. Or we may simply spend it in isolation. Granted, the idea of leaving my house for a gathering doesn’t always feel like rest, but if the “Sabbath that remains” is Christ himself, then we rest by intentionally drawing near to him. In turn, gathering with God’s people provides a rest that physical inactivity cannot provide. It’s a rest that reinvigorates your soul, not just your body.

9. Value Service over Performance

Perhaps this is a word for those who have specific responsibilities during the service, but regardless of your role, we should value our service to the church over our performance. To be sure, we want to serve people well, but the center of attention should be the presence of Christ among us, not our production. It’s when we turn Sundays into a performance to be evaluated that it produces dread rather than delight. (No wonder some churches don’t meet once or twice a year to give their volunteers a day off—consider the irony!) We are there to serve the congregation in its worship, not to impress anyone.

10. Remember God Is the God of Our Time

One of the reasons it’s difficult for us to enjoy the Lord’s Day is because life is busy and we’re afraid that if we neglect our normal duties, Monday will be more stressful. In other words, we don’t trust God with our schedules. But as DeYoung reminds us, “If we want to keep going, we have to learn how to stop.”Kevin DeYoung, Crazy Busy, quoted from: https://www.monergism.com/thethreshold/sdg/ryythm_deyoung.html. We must trust that God can do more in six days than we can do in seven. When I choose to ignore those emails in order to gather with God’s people, I declare that God is the God of my time, and I am trusting him.

The post Ten Ways to Savor Sundays appeared first on 9Marks.

Scrolling Ourselves to Death: Reclaiming Life in a Digital Age, eds. McCracken, Brett and Ivan Mesa. Crossway, 2025. 256 pages.

“Sadly, many Christians default towards a naïve embrace of technology as a neutral and merely pragmatic tool to be harnessed for mission” (10). This observation runs throughout Scrolling Ourselves to Death: Reclaim Life in a Digital Age, a resource from The Gospel Coalition and Crossway that examines modern digital media in light of the gospel. If you want to prepare your church for life in an age of “information satiation” (8), this resource is a great place to deepen your understanding of the issues involved, as it represents the work of multiple contributors who address various aspects of this topic. Scrolling Ourselves repurposes the basic insights of Neil Postman’s 1985 classic Amusing Ourselves to Death and applies them to digital media, all within a biblical worldview.

The Embrace of Digital Death

Scrolling Ourselves makes the case that though our churches are full of people who may have resurrection life, these individuals are simultaneously—to greater and lesser extents—embracing digital death. “The best of us are responsible users who can consume media in moderation. But none of us is fully sober” (27).

Throughout these essays on digital media, three predicaments show up repeatedly: false digital discipleship, disembodied community, and the decay of contemplation.

False Digital Discipleship

A recurring argument in Scrolling Ourselves is that nearly everyone is having their hearts and minds formed by digital media. “Compared to twenty years ago, the internet—not the local church—has become the primary place where Christians are formed today” (94).

Some parts of this digital discipleship may be obvious. For instance, we’ve all been on the receiving end of “Let me tell you what I heard on this podcast.” But the issue goes beyond an increase in knowledge or even a massive number of hours wasted scrolling through instantly forgotten videos. The authors point out that the digital media we’re consuming is warping our expectations of the Christian life. Though the internet has provided access to a bounty of gospel-rich resources (like this article!), this book confronts us with the reality that “this accessibility comes with the risk of trivializing religious engagement, reducing it to just another form of digital content consumed passively and intermittently” (42).

The result is a morass of trivialization, deception, self-promotion, and an occasional sprinkling in of the truth. The fact that the members of our churches are gleefully and willfully swimming in this flood should jolt us awake. After all, making disciples is the church’s mission (Matt. 28:19–20), and it cannot be outsourced to social media.

Disembodied Community

Every hour spent scrolling is time we’re not pouring into the lives of other people. Thus, in addition to normalizing the idea of (so-called) “virtual church,” digital media has also chipped away at the day-to-day life of the church. Sitting with someone as they grieve and physically speaking the comfort of the gospel into their life is not the same as sending texts (as helpful as those can be).

Gratefully, Scrolling Ourselves does not suggest that the battle for embodied community is lost. Instead, we’re challenged to “think about how we can use such media as invitations to face-to-face encounters where people can ask questions (and have them answered) and witness Christian community” (113). These in-person encounters help the church present an alternative to a deeply dissatisfying, disembodied way of life. For example, the church’s weekly gathering involves actual water baptisms and bread-and-wine communion, and its members can actually make eye contact with one another.

Decay of Contemplation

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations—you’ve defied a key trend, namely, the trivialization of information by packaging it in ten-second video clips that can be skipped with the flick of a finger. This trend, the authors convincingly argue, is breaking our brains. We see this most clearly with decreased attention spans, but it also shows up in our growing inability to think clearly and rationally about complex topics. In a world where people “are conditioned to accept that whatever the algorithm feeds them is perfectly appropriate” (83), they are struggling to sit down and read a basic book about the Bible. Furthermore, when gospel truth is opposed, people are accustomed to shrugging and then scrolling to the next video.

When you combine these predicaments—false digital discipleship, disembodied community, and the decay of contemplation—the book’s assessment of the effects of digital media seems entirely justified: “Digital media has played its hand, and by almost all quantifiable measures its primary effect has been to perpetuate despair in the human soul” (188). That this despair is present in the life of believers is disheartening.

The Gospel Answer to Digital Media Overload

If you’re discouraged by these issues, be encouraged by God’s faithfulness. Scrolling Ourselves reminds us, “We’re not on the losing side of a pointless battle. Instead, we’re serving a King who’s calling us to ask once more how we can be faithful in our generation and offer his healing in a broken, digital dopamine-addicted world” (30).

Likewise, be comforted by the fact that God has always known about this era of digital media in which people would scroll themselves to death, and he offers the same solution: conform your life to Scripture in the context of the local church. Before discussing the role of the local church further, it’s worth highlighting one more insight from the book.

The Bible Speaks to Both Content and Medium

Surely all Christians would agree that the media we consume is not neutral in the eyes of God. We must judge the content based on Scripture. Yet, following the insights of Postman’s Amusing Ourselves to Death, the authors suggest taking things one step further. Instead of limiting our discernment to the content of our media, we should also evaluate the medium by which it arrives. Christians should ask, “How is this medium affecting the way I learn, think, and interact with the world?”

The Church Being the Church Is the Answer

Finally, the role of the local church shines through in this book. One author shares about how he “found a healthier way to live” by rediscovering “the beauty and necessity of the local church” (173). Various benefits of the church are mentioned. For example, worshiping in a community counters social media isolation (57); holding up the holy glory of Christ counters the trivialization of truth (123); and the gospel’s call to real-world action is counter to the digital world where one is “overinformed but underactivated” (168). Another author states, “Joy in God’s kingdom comes by way of high commitment to the inconvenient mess of embodied communities awkwardly learning to share life together in all its pain and joy” (196).

While various authors in this book suggest teaching Christians about digital media, no silver bullet is offered. Rather, the reader comes away thinking that the church feels perfectly suited to meet the challenge.

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Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

There are a dozen or so excerpts from Christian literature which, upon having first read them, I find myself going back to over and over again. John Calvin’s commentary on Genesis 32:22–32 where Jacob wrestles with God is such a text. I bet I’ve read it more than a hundred times over the past fifteen years. Of those times, the majority were prompted by various kinds of trials or suffering, whether my own or that of someone close to me. Let me summarize the story and give you a sampling of Calvin’s insights.

Genesis 32 opens with Jacob readily admitting to God his fear over the imminent encounter he is to have with Esau, his brother whose blessing he stole years earlier. On the night before the two brothers were to meet, Jacob found himself alone. . . alone, that is, until he wasn’t. For the text says that “a man wrestled with him” (Gen. 32:24). As the two were locked in a grapple, Jacob demanded a blessing from his mysterious opponent, a request I never made of my childhood friends when we used to tussle. The man responded to Jacob: “Your name shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and man, and have prevailed” (v. 28). When the sun had risen and the man was gone, Jacob reflected on the match and said, “For I have seen God face to face, and yet my life has been delivered” (v. 30).

Pretty wild story, right? Now, let’s consider some of Calvin’s takeaways.

God Wrestles with His People 

After recognizing the uniqueness of Jacob’s experience, Calvin pastorally applied the paradigm to all of God’s servants whom he referred to as “wrestlers.” With whom do they wrestle? Be forewarned—Calvin’s answer may at first seem a bit jolting. He writes:

Wherefore it is right to keep in view this design of the vision, which is to represent all the servants of God in this world as wrestlers; because the Lord exercises them with various kinds of conflicts. Moreover, it is not said that Satan, or any mortal man, wrestled with Jacob, but God himself: to teach us that our faith is tried by him; and whenever we are tempted, our business is truly with him, not only because we fight under his auspices, but because he, as an antagonist, descends into the arena to try our strength.Calvin, John, and John King. Commentary on the First Book of Moses Called Genesis. Vol. 2, Pg. 195. Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010. (emphasis mine)

God’s servants, his pastors, wrestle with God himself. So says Calvin. And just so we don’t miss the point, he comes around for it again: “Therefore, what was once exhibited under a visible form to our father Jacob, is daily fulfilled in the individual members of the Church; namely, that, in their temptations, it is necessary for them to wrestle with God.” When we suffer, it is easy to look east and west for explanations when the sure answer comes from the north. Pastors, for example, suffer because the world and its god oppose their message (1 John 3:13); or because their members criticize their preaching (2 Cor. 10:10); or because, like their members, they suffer in a body that is ailed with disease (Gal. 4:13). We can offer various secondary, instrumental causes for pastoral sufferings such as persecution, spiritual warfare, unfounded criticism, disease, loss, relational estrangement, and many other trials. It is totally legitimate to see Satan and sin as actors in bringing about these things in our lives.See, for instance, Doug van Meter’s article, “What Is Satan’s Role in Suffering, and How Should We Respond?”, or Matt Emadi’s article, “Handling Ungodly Criticism”, or Travis Rymer’s article, “Pastoring with Two Cancers: Leading Your People While Fighting for Faith.”

And yet, I want to keep our attention on the primary cause of suffering which is God’s sovereign purpose over every detail of our lives. What comes to us must first pass through his hand.For more Scripture that makes plain God’s sovereignty over all things including suffering, see Lamentations 3:37–38; Isaiah 45:7; Job 1:21; Ephesians 1:11; Romans 8:28. Now, you may at this point be thinking, “Ya know, Taylor, this isn’t the most encouraging way to address the topic of suffering!” Calvin, at least momentarily, appreciates the pushback. He asks:

Who is able to stand against an Antagonist, at whose breath alone all flesh perishes and vanishes away, at whose look the mountains melt, at whose word or beck the whole world is shaken to pieces, and therefore to attempt the least contest with him would be insane temerity.Calvin, John, and John King. Commentary on the First Book of Moses Called Genesis. Vol. 2, Pg. 195. Bellingham, WA: Logos Bible Software, 2010.

If God is so powerful that lightning bolts report to him for duty and lions wait for him to hunt their prey (Job 38:35, 39), the obvious question is how can you or I stand in an arena where he descends to oppose? The answer is equally obvious: no one can, at least, not alone. Not even the best-prepared pastor protected by the most biblically robust polity is ready to go one-on-one against this Antagonist.

God Gives His People the Win 

So you’re suffering, pastor, and it’s under God’s sovereign oversight, and, if you’re alone in the fight, you’re going to lose. What hope do you have? Forgive me for the length of the following quote. It’s too good to cut up. Calvin answers:

For we do not fight against him, except by his own power, and with his own weapons; for he, having challenged us to this contest, at the same time furnishes us with means of resistance, so that he both fights against us and for us. In short, such is his apportioning of this conflict, that, while he assails us with one hand, he defends us with the other; yea, inasmuch as he supplies us with more strength to resist than he employs in opposing us, we may truly and properly say, that he fights against us with his left hand, and for us with his right hand. For while he lightly opposes us, he supplies invincible strength whereby we overcome. It is true he remains at perfect unity with himself: but the double method in which he deals with us cannot be otherwise expressed, than that in striking us with a human rod, he does not put forth his full strength in the temptation; but that in granting the victory to our faith, he becomes in us stronger than the power by which he opposes us.Ibid.

You’re the man behind the pulpit, or in the counseling room, or sitting around the elder table, and opposition surrounds—opposition which has the Lord as its primary cause. If not for the Lord being on your side, you’d be completely without hope. And yet, the Lord is on your side. For whatever he brings against you, more still does he give to your defense. And why not just prevent suffering in the first place? So that “in granting the victory to our faith, he becomes in us stronger. . .”

Remarkably, this design of wrestling with God and winning doesn’t result in a diminished view of God, nor does it produce the kind of self-aggrandized pride a victor often feels after receiving his trophy. Jacob and all the rest of God’s winning wrestlers know that they win only by the “invincible strength” that God supplies. And the prize? The prize is God himself. Pastor, God is accomplishing things in you, through you, and for you amid whatever his hand has brought against you. But he is also with you in the fight. He draws near in order that you might see his face and be blessed.

The sun eventually dawned on Jacob’s face, and the God with whom he wrestled relented, but not before he blessed Jacob and gave him a new name. Jacob was left to walk with a limp, true enough. But my bet is that he wouldn’t have traded that limp for the victory God gave him for anything in the world. How could he? He saw God face to face and yet his life was delivered (Gen. 32:32).

If you’re a suffering pastor, take heart. This is not the end, and you are not alone, not even close.

The post Wrestling with God . . . and Winning: John Calvin’s Meditations on Genesis 32:22–32 appeared first on 9Marks.

I heartily affirm the “doctrines of grace,” a common way of referring to five truths that describe salvation as a work of God’s grace from beginning to end (sometimes referred to as the “five points of Calvinism”). Yet I pastor a church where there are differing views on God’s sovereignty, particularly as it pertains to salvation. Around a third of my church knows what the doctrines of grace are and heartily agrees with them; another third knows what they are and doesn’t agree with them; and the remaining third has little to no knowledge of them.

On the one hand, I want to maintain unity around the gospel of Christ crucified so that those with different views of God’s sovereignty don’t feel like anything other than full and equal members of the church.

On the other hand, I desire for the entire church to experience the joy of coming to see what the Bible teaches on this topic. Not only do I find the biblical case for the doctrines of grace to be very strong, but I also find them to be extremely practical. We may not have to agree on them for basic unity in the faith, but how one views God’s sovereignty over salvation is hardly inconsequential.

This is a tension I feel regularly as I seek to shepherd my church (I assume there are plenty of pastors out there in similar situations). To this end, I put together a list of nine aspects, or in some cases implications, of the doctrines of grace that I think our entire church should be able to agree on. But first, a conviction and an observation.

My conviction is that the doctrines of grace are not ultimately about God’s sovereignty but about God’s glory.This doesn’t deny that God’s sovereignty is an important aspect of his glory. Rather, it highlights the fact that our ultimate goal isn’t merely to promote a certain view of God’s sovereignty but to see and make known God’s glory. Along these lines, John Dillenberger notes that John Calvin urged the Catholic bishop Sadolet to “set before [man], as the prime motive of his existence, zeal to illustrate the glory of God.” As cited in John Piper, 21 Servants of Sovereign Joy: Faithful, Flawed, and Fruitful (Crossway, 2018), 96 (emphasis original). My observation is that many Christians are happy to get behind the primacy of God’s glory, regardless of what they think about the particulars of God’s sovereignty in salvation.

Here, then, is a list of nine truths I want our church to care about most when it comes to God’s saving work:

1. We get no credit for any part of our salvation.

Not your morality, not your common sense, not your humility or self-awareness, not your sorrow for sin, not the seriousness with which you take God—none of those things give you reason to boast. God works in such a way that “no human being might boast in the presence of God.” Rather, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1 Cor. 1:29, 31). If our view of salvation leaves us with any room to boast, we have not understood salvation correctly!

2. We do not deserve God’s grace.

Your decision to trust in Jesus, even though others haven’t made that decision, in no way shows you to be more deserving of God’s grace. We should be humbled and awed by Jesus’s death for sinners like us. Paul says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 3:23–24). And again, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Eph. 2:8–9).

3. Salvation involves a real change in someone’s nature.

The biblical term for this is regeneration (see Titus 3:5), and it reminds us that salvation is never merely a decision to believe or to live a different way. It’s a work of God that involves a radical, supernatural change. As Jesus said to Nicodemus, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3). Without regeneration, which is entirely God’s work, it is impossible for man to repent and believe.

4. Genuine salvation produces spiritual fruit.

The genuineness of someone’s salvation is evidenced not simply by a decision made, a prayer prayed, a commitment given, or a doctrine assented to, but by the “fruit” that is borne of the Holy Spirit (Gal. 5:22–23). This includes the fruit of an ongoing trust in Jesus, a willingness to repent of sin, and a desire to honor and glorify God. While God may certainly use things like a decision, a prayer, or a commitment in the process of saving an individual, the Bible never tells us to look toward such things as the evidence of saving faith. To grow in assurance, Peter tells us to add to our faith virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love (2 Pet. 1:5–7). He then says, “For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For whoever lacks these qualities is so nearsighted that he is blind, having forgotten that he was cleansed from his former sins. Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to confirm your calling and election, for if you practice these qualities you will never fall” (vv. 8–10).

5. The finished work of Christ is the ground of our hope.

The ultimate basis of your hope of making it to the end secure in Christ is not your own resolve, seriousness, or moral character but the finished work of Christ and all of God’s promises in him. As Robert Murray M’Cheyne famously said, “For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ.” Not only are we saved by looking to Christ, but we find assurance by continuing to look to him: his saving work, his person, his words, and his promises. Jesus said, “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out” (John 6:37). And, “I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand” (John 10:28).

6. We are dependent on God’s Spirit in evangelism.

God has chosen to use us to share the gospel, so we have a responsibility to call others to respond and to pray for their salvation. But ultimately we can’t save anyone. We should be diligent and urgent in our evangelistic efforts, but no amount of pleading, convincing, or pressuring can give someone new life in Christ. God must work, which means he gets all the glory. As Paul said, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth” (1 Cor. 3:6–7).

7. God works all things according to his sovereign will.

Believing this helps you experience the hope, rest, strength, and comfort of a God who doesn’t merely know the future, but who sovereignly and mysteriously brings all things to pass according to his perfect plan, even that which is directly caused by human sin and the work of the devil. God is not the author of sin, and he cannot be blamed for sin or evil. At the same time, Scripture teaches that nothing comes about apart from, or outside of, his sovereign rule. Nor can anything thwart his purposes. Therefore, nothing is truly random, chaotic, or meaningless. This is the basis of that wonderful promise in Romans 8:28: “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” God “works all things according to the counsel of his will” (Eph. 1:11).

8. Prayer is necessary and effective.

Prayer is necessary and effective not because we control God and the future, but because God has chosen to bring about his purposes (at least in part) through our prayers. Prayer presses us into the mystery of how God brings about his sovereign will. We can dismiss this mystery and stray from Scripture in at least two ways. We can fail to pray much at all because we think our prayers are effectively meaningless due to God’s overarching sovereignty. Or we can make the mistake of thinking that our prayers determine the future as long as we pray with enough faith. Scripture, on the other hand, teaches that God answers prayer according to his own sovereign wisdom and timing, yet it invites us to call on him to meet our needs. As Jesus said, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matt. 7:11).

9. We are responsible for our decisions and actions.

This is similar to the previous point, though here we’re thinking more broadly than prayer. A Reformed view of God’s sovereignty in no way negates human responsibility or God’s use of various means to bring about his purposes. For example, we are responsible for putting our faith in Christ and for making “every effort” to grow in godliness (2 Pet. 1:5). We are also responsible to share the gospel freely with all people and to call them to respond, knowing that “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Rom. 10:13). In short, God’s sovereignty is never a justification for inaction, unbelief, or apathy.

Conclusion 

I tell our church that my aim is to consistently set forth a view of God that is biblical and big, even when it confounds us, humbles us, corrects us, and awes us. That’s what these nine statements are working toward. And while I have found much value in wrestling through the finer points of the doctrines of grace, and hope my people will as well as they study and are taught God’s Word, my greatest concern for them is not that they become card-carrying Calvinists. Many in my church will never articulate God’s sovereignty over their salvation according to the verbiage used at the Synod of Dort. They can nonetheless come to see a God who is big and glorious and thus be appropriately humbled and filled with joy at the sight of him in Christ.

The post Pastoring Those with Differing Views on God’s Sovereignty in Salvation appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and His Family.”

There is nothing quite like the smell of a behavioral therapy drop-in clinic. If you’ve never been, it smells like . . . fear, though I’m not sure that is an actual smell. For years, my wife and I had known that something was wrong with our boy. Initially, we were in denial, but then friends and family began to take notice and point out what we were scared to see. Since those early days, we’ve seen ups and downs, anxiety attacks, depression, medications, and endless appointments. The most disturbing crisis occurred recently when my son had a three-hour anxiety attack. Like a boat going through a storm, the only way through was to ride the waves and wait for the storm to pass. It was exhausting for him and traumatic for the whole family. Eventually, the anxiety broke, his demeanor changed, and he spoke a phrase I will never forget: “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

Whether your child is suffering from mental illness or not, parenting is rarely easy, which is why I often find myself wishing for a magic wand that I could wave into the sky to make my son instantly feel better. I wish I had a spell that could protect all of my children from various foes that I know they will have to contend with one day. And yet, as I’ve walked this well-worn parental path, I’ve found that God has given his saints something far more potent and powerful than a wand or an incantation—he’s given himself. Lest we miss God’s presence in our lives, here are five ways in which God is present when parenting gets difficult.

Supernatural 

In the Upper Room Discourse in John 14, Jesus informs his disciples that he is going away, but “he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever” (John 14:16). That Helper, the Spirit, puts Jesus before us that we might delight in him (John 16:14), which is hard to see when parenting gets difficult. Yet there is a sweetness of Jesus that is often tasted in times of difficulty.

When you feel weak as a parent, God reveals himself as the Sovereign Lord (Jer. 32:17). When your sin is revealed in times of stress, God reveals himself as the all-sufficient Savior (1 Pet. 3:18). When you look back and see God’s preserving grace in your family, God reveals himself as the God who upholds (2 Cor. 12:9).

When the days are long and the nights are short, God is not absent. He is revealing himself to you through the Spirit.

Ordinary 

During seasons of difficult parenting, I’ve found that God often draws near to me through the ordinary means of grace—the Word, my church, prayer, singing. These things are life-sustaining when life and parenting get hard.

One night, my son couldn’t fall asleep, a symptom of the new medication he’s taking. He was so frustrated that he couldn’t do the most natural of tasks. So, I sat with him and read the Word. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” At first, it felt futile. “Maybe we should just try counting sheep,” I thought to myself. But as I continued to read, his breathing slowly calmed. We met the Shepherd who leads us not only by still waters, but also in the valley of the shadow of death.

Reading, meditating, and praying in light of God’s Word is too often overlooked or underappreciated when the going gets tough. After all, who wants to wait when there may be a quick fix on offer somewhere beyond the Book? But the tried, true, and ordinary gifts of sitting under the preached Word, singing songs about the promises of God, and praying in light of God’s Word seem to make all the difference (Col. 3:16–17).

When parenting gets difficult, fill your life with the ordinary means of God’s grace.

Community 

Most Christians acknowledge the need for community and hospitality. Yet parenting difficulties can erode community.

There was a season when getting invited over for dinner only brought anxiety to our family. How do I explain why my son is hiding under the table? What excuse can I give to get out of dinner? The shame of having such a family is quite isolating. Not to mention, some people in the church, though well-meaning, will never understand your particular parenting difficulties. Some of our deepest wounds came not from outside the church but within.

Though some might not understand, others will. God has always providentially brought families to walk with us in every season. These friends have been a display of God’s presence as they’ve asked probing questions, carried our burdens, and walked us to Christ, who covers parenting shame.

Personal Ways 

My days never look the same. As a pastor, that seems typical. But when I must cancel a meeting to pick up my son who is having a panic attack at school, it’s easy to conclude that parenting is getting in the way of pastoring. I suppose there is a time when a pastor may need to step away from ministry to care for his family. But what I’ve found is that parenting difficulties aren’t a distraction from ministry, but a quality of my ministry. They are a means that God uses to form me into a better pastor, husband, father, and Christian.

Few things have brought me to my end like parenting. I find myself quite comfortable studying God’s Word, navigating hard conversations, and leading within the church. But God has exposed issues of control, the fear of man, and countless other sins through the gift of parenting. Not to mention, he has used my children to make me more patient, compassionate, and long-suffering. The crucible of difficult parenting is a personal gift that forms Christ in us.

Heaven 

This last means of experiencing God’s presence in parenting might sound strange. Yet I find myself weekly, if not daily, thinking about heaven—the Gloryland to come, where there is no suffering, no weeping, and no wheelchairs. That New Jerusalem, where undertakers are out of work and there are no behavioral walk-in therapy clinics. That Celestial City with joys and crowns and nations singing a song without end (Rev. 5). I think of children like mine, who, among the saints, will for the first time have rest for their weary minds.

When parenting gets difficult, I consider heaven, but mostly, I consider the centerpiece of heaven, Jesus Christ. What a sight to behold when we see him face to face!

Some may call this escapism. But Paul, in his difficulties, wasn’t escaping anything when he longed for heaven (Phil. 1:23). He wasn’t so heavenly minded that he was no earthly good. Instead, the thought of heaven fueled his earthly perseverance. So, sing songs about heaven. Feast on the Lord’s Supper and remind yourself of the greater feast to come. Dwell on Canaan’s land, where Sabbaths have no end.

Parenting is difficult, but there is a happy ending: arrival at a place where beauty is unmatched, where death is no more, where tears are forbidden, where darkness must hide, and where the Son of God—whose suffering makes parental suffering worth it—reigns.

The post Pastoral Ministry When Parenting Gets Hard appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is an adapted excerpt from an address titled “Kingdom of Priests: Melchizedek, Church Membership and Understanding Your Place in God’s Story” given at First Baptist Church in Boynton Beach, Florida.

C. S. Lewis once said, “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” Biblical theology does something similar for us as it traces God’s unfolding plan of redemption across the storyline of Scripture. It not only helps us see what’s in Scripture, but it also helps us see the world and our lives in light of Scripture.

This is particularly helpful when it comes to a topic like church membership that, on the surface, seems detached from the central themes of Scripture. But since all Scripture points us to Jesus, and since the church is his body, that means all Scripture has something to say about Christ and his people. United to Christ by faith, his people become part of his story, which means we participate in the fulfillment of Old Covenant promises and shadows.

I want to show you how all this relates to church membership by focusing on the theme of priest-kings as it unfolds across major “movements” of the storyline of Scripture. Then we’ll consider what it means to embrace the role God has given you as a member of your local church.

Movement 1: Why God Created Humanity 

Why did God create humanity? To glorify him and enjoy him forever.1 But what does that look like? To answer that we need to look at the story of creation. Genesis 1 records the rhythmic repetition of the first six days: “God said . . . God made . . . God saw that it was good.” That’s the pattern. But then the pattern is interrupted. It’s as if God steps back to hold counsel with himself to prepare for his greatest work—the climax of his creative genius. God creates man in his own image (Gen. 1:26–27).

In the ancient Near East, only kings and pharaohs were said to be in the image of God. Bearing God’s image meant that you were a descendant of the gods—a son of God. Yet God creates Adam as his image, which is to say Adam is God’s own royal son. And as Jonathan Leeman has put it: like every good father, God wants Adam to get a job. So God gives Adam a job, the job of a priest-king.

Commissioned as a King 

First, God makes Adam a king. He commissions him to rule and gives him dominion over all creation (Gen. 1:28). Adam is the “boots-on-the-ground” king on earth who represents God’s life-giving rule in heaven. Just as God uses his authority to generate flourishing, prosperity, and life, Adam must do the same. He must fill the earth with life.

That’s why God commissions Adam and Eve to “multiply” (Gen. 1:28). In an ancient Near Eastern context, when a king or a pharaoh conquered a land, he would go into the town square and set up an image—a statue—of himself. This image would signify to everyone that he was the rightful ruler of that land—the king to whom everyone owed allegiance. It’s as if God is doing the same thing with humanity. He wants Adam and Eve to extend the boundaries of Eden and fill the earth with image-bearers so that these servant kings would draw attention to the Lord of all creation.

Commissioned as a Priest 

So God made Adam a king, but he also gave him another responsibility. He made him a priest. When God put Adam in the garden, he told him to “work it and keep it” (Gen. 2:15). These two words, “work” and “keep,” are used as a word-pair only a few other times in the Bible, and each time they refer to the work of the priests in the tabernacle or the temple. In other words, Adam is the prototype for Israel’s priests.

This helps us see that the garden isn’t just an ordinary garden. It’s a temple. Have you ever wondered why all the features of the tabernacle are described as having almonds and pomegranates? (Exod. 25–40) That’s because the tabernacle and the temple were miniaturized recreations of the original garden-temple.

So what was Adam supposed to do in this garden-temple? First, he was supposed to “work it,” which refers to inside-the-garden work. Adam was supposed to cultivate and nurture the garden. He was to make sure the trees were bearing fruit, the bushes were trimmed, and the land was well-irrigated. Second, Adam was supposed to “keep it.” That is, he was supposed to guard this garden-temple by keeping out anything unclean and impure—like a talking snake (Gen. 3:1–7). This was the job of the priests. They protected the temple by regulating what came in and out, by declaring what was clean and unclean, holy and unholy.

This commission is God’s creation project. It’s why Adam was created. It’s how God gets glory for himself: he makes his image-bearers to rule over his world as kings and serve in his temple as priests.

Christian, this is what we were made for—to be priest-kings serving in God’s temple. This cosmic employment unites the biggest realities of heaven with the dust of this earthly creation.

Failure and Promise 

Sadly, Adam didn’t fulfill his commission as priest-king. He allowed the serpent to pollute the purity of God’s temple, so God cast Adam out of the garden. It’s as if God fired Adam from his job. Yet in that moment, God promised to raise up from the line of Eve a seed of the woman who would crush the serpent’s head (Gen. 3:15). In other words, this coming seed, or offspring, would do what Adam failed to do. He would be a new Adam. He would rule over the earth and guard God’s temple.

The seed of the woman would be a faithful priest-king.

Movement 2: A Long Line of Failed Priest-Kings 

The story of the Old Testament is the story of a sequence of priest-kings who perpetuate and pervert the work God established with Adam. Take Noah, for example. He sacrifices clean animals, he judges between clean and unclean animals, and then he’s given the same dominion mandate as Adam (Gen. 7–9). He’s a new priest-king.

But he’s another failed one. At the end of Noah’s story, he’s in a vineyard—a garden—drunk, naked, and ashamed, just like his father Adam, another unfaithful priest-king.

Abraham is also described as both a king and a priest. And Israel as a nation has both priests and kings. In fact, God calls his people “a kingdom of priests” (Exod. 19:5).

As Israel obeyed God’s voice and kept his covenant, they would image God rightly.

But Noah, Abraham, and Israel—as well as David and a whole series of priest-kings in the Old Testament—all failed to do what Adam was supposed to do. They didn’t protect the temple or the land given to them. They defiled it with paganism and idolatry. And so the story of the Old Testament ends where it began—with the temple in ruins and Israel in exile, just as Adam was exiled from the garden.

The only exception to this pattern of priest-king failures is an enigmatic figure named Melchizedek in Genesis 14. He is so great that he even blesses Abraham and, through Abraham, all Israel. This is why David’s prophecy about the coming Messiah in Psalm 110 says that he will be both a king from the line of David and a priest from the order of Melchizedek. That’s humanity’s hope: a faithful priest-king who is greater than Abraham and David and who will do what Adam failed to do.

Movement 3: Jesus Is the Faithful Priest-King 

When Jesus arrives on the scene, he does so as a faithful priest-king. He is introduced as the son of David (Matt. 1:1), the promised royal king (2 Sam. 7:12–14). Then he ends his earthly ministry by declaring, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matt. 28:18).

And then Jesus goes around healing people of infirmities and restoring withered hands and cleansing lepers and healing women who have been bleeding for twelve years and raising the dead. He even declares people’s sins forgiven! In other words, Jesus is a priest unlike any other. He doesn’t just declare what’s clean and unclean; he makes unclean people clean. He takes defiled bodies and cleanses them; even more amazing, he takes defiled hearts and cleanses them. And as a priest, he offers himself as a sacrifice for sins.

Jesus is a priest-king after the order of Melchizedek (Heb. 5–7). He is the final installment in a pattern as old as Adam—a priest-king who has come to rule over creation, represent God’s holiness, and mediate the presence of God without fail. He is the true and faithful priest-king.

Therefore, if we want access to the presence of God; if we want back in the garden; if we want our sins forgiven and our hearts cleansed; if we want to fellowship with God and live under his gracious reign; and if we want to be saved from death, then we need to go to the true priest-king, Jesus, for forgiveness and cleansing and fellowship and life.

But we don’t go to him by doing something for him. We come to him by faith (Eph. 2:8–9). Faith is an empty hand that lays hold of Christ. And Paul says over and over again that when we lay hold of Christ by faith, we become united to him. We are “in him” (Eph. 1:7). This is crucial to understanding our role in the story.

Movement 4: The Church’s Role as a Kingdom of Priests 

Because we are in Christ—united to him by faith—everything that is true about him becomes true of us. He is righteous, so we are righteous. He is holy, so we are holy. He is a priest-king, so we become priest-kings. Or as Peter put it, a “royal priesthood” (1 Pet. 2:9).

Our responsibility—a priestly responsibility—is to “proclaim the excellencies of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light” (1 Pet. 2:9).

When you come to Christ, you get installed into the very job Adam was fired from. You’ve been given the authority to represent Christ’s righteous judgments and the power from his Spirit to do the priestly work of mediating or proclaiming the excellencies of God to the nations!

But remember, when Peter refers to us as a royal priesthood, he’s speaking corporately. The church is a royal priesthood. So what tabernacle do we serve? What garden are we cultivating? What temple are we protecting? The temple upon which God has poured out his Spirit. The New Covenant temple is the local church gathered to worship God. As Jesus says, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there (in the gathering) I am among them” (Matt. 18:20). Likewise, Paul says that we are “God’s temple” and that his Spirit dwells in us (1 Cor. 3:16).

So how do we do “work” and “keep” this temple? By doing what Adam was supposed to do. We keep it holy by cultivating our holiness and the holiness of other church members. Your ultimate ambition in life isn’t merely to see how devoted to the Lord you can be. You are to labor for other people’s devotion to the Lord as much as you labor for your own, because you’re maintaining the purity of God’s New Covenant temple. That’s what it means to be a member of a church.

What Living as a Priest-King Looks like Practically 

Based on everything we’ve seen so far, it should be evident that church membership isn’t about getting a few privileges and attending some church programs. It’s about committing to do the work of a priest-king to build up God’s cosmic temple. So what does this look like practically? Here are several suggestions:

• Make sure you have an accurate understanding of the gospel and what it means to follow Jesus, and then help other people in the church understand these things.
• Meet with a discouraged mom to remind her that her labors aren’t in vain and that she should continue on in faith and love and holiness.
• Ask some people to join you for lunch so that you can practice praying together.
• Read Knowing God by J. I. Packer with other church members and then talk about how you can help each other live out those truths.
• Invite a newly married couple to your house for dinner so that they can watch how you do family devotions with your kids.
• Take a meal to sick brothers and sisters in Christ who need encouragement and tangible, visible reminders that the Lord loves them.
• Give to the church faithfully so that the pastors can keep equipping the congregation to minister God’s Word to one another.
• Invite your non-Christian neighbor over and share the gospel with them.

These are just a few examples of priest-king work. It’s focused on edifying and encouraging the saints—the messed-up, often annoying, sinful, sometimes offensive, glorious saints—who are God’s own garden-sanctuary.

On a corporate level, living as priest-kings means that a church should practice meaningful membership. That’s why you do membership interviews—to ensure that people understand the gospel and show evidence of true conversion. Only those purified by the blood of Christ should be brought into the church’s membership. This is also why church discipline exists. When people want to live for sin more than they do for Christ, a congregation of priest-kings should guard the purity of God’s temple and remove what is unholy.

Finally, this is why we cannot tolerate anti-gospel teaching in the church. Unlike Adam, we must not allow snakes to pervert what God has plainly said.

What You Were Made For 

God made us to be priest-kings serving his cosmic temple. And by union with Christ, you, Christian, have been restored to the office originally given to Adam. The stakes and responsibilities, as well as the joys and blessings, of this work could not be higher. This is what God is doing in the world, and it has cosmic significance.

The post Kingdom of Priests: Melchizedek, Church Membership and Understanding Your Place in God’s Story appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

As a young pastor, I thought I understood Paul’s admonition that an elder “must manage his own household competently and have his children under control with all dignity” (1 Tim. 3:4–5). (If anyone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he take care of God’s church?)” Paul was clearly arguing from the lesser to the greater. If you couldn’t do the smaller thing (manage your household), then there’s no way you could do the larger thing (take care of the church).

Yet decades later, it seems the much harder thing to manage well is your own family, and never more so than when turmoil and suffering strike. Whether it’s a childhood cancer diagnosis, like a pastor friend of mine has dealt with, or the demands of aging parents with dementia, like almost everyone my age is dealing with, or run-of-the-mill teenage boundary-pushing and chronic mental illness, like my family has experienced, when suffering and turmoil and conflict and heartache hit the pastor’s family, the problems waiting for you at the church office can feel like a welcome break, or even an escape hatch, from the problems at home.

When your family is suffering acutely, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually, you must give attention to it. The church can hire other pastors, but your family can’t find another husband and father. At the same time, the church is paying your salary, and not only do you need that salary to care for your family, but the church needs your care as well. So how do we care for the church when our family needs special attention?

For several years, my own family suffered through an acute mental health crisis. One of my children was in and out of the hospital with a diagnosis that, while not always fatal, carried a very real risk of death. The crisis absorbed an extraordinary amount of time and energy from me and my wife, and for many years there was very little that was predictable from day to day. At the same time, I was just a few years into pastoring my church. There was a lot of work to be done, a fair amount of opposition to that work, and not a lot of earned capital with the congregation. It seemed impossible.

And yet, Paul didn’t say that managing your household when it’s easy demonstrates that you’re qualified to manage the church. He didn’t have a family, but he knew what it was like to suffer and to carry on in ministry when things were difficult. Like him, we don’t pastor the church or lead our families out of our strength but out of our weakness. As the Lord said to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is perfected in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). So as we pastor while our families are hurting, how can we experience God’s power?

Turn to God in Prayer 

If our weakness doesn’t drive us to prayer, then we’re still operating out of our own strength. Every morning of our family’s crisis, my wife and I would get up early and go for a walk, rain or shine. We had a three-mile loop. For the first mile and a half, we would talk and catch up and plan for the day. But as we turned toward home, we turned to prayer. And we wouldn’t stop praying until we reached our front door. We prayed about the crisis, of course, but we also prayed for the church, and for the family members who weren’t in crisis. We prayed like our family’s life depended on it, which it literally did. We also prayed like our church’s life depended on it, which it did, even if that wasn’t as apparent to everyone else.

You don’t have to follow our morning routine, but if God’s grace is going to show up for your family and your church in the midst of your suffering, it will show itself first in your prayers. It was in response to Paul’s prayers that the Lord assured him of the sufficiency of his grace.

Ask Others to Pray 

Paul constantly asked others to pray for him.1 His letters to the Corinthians, Ephesians, Colossians, Thessalonians, and Philemon all make mention of it. And no wonder, for he felt the “daily pressure of his concern for all the churches” (2 Cor. 11:28). We too quickly realized that we needed others praying for us, for our family and our church. So my wife and I put together a team of people who knew our family, and especially our child who was suffering, and enlisted their prayers. I sent out regular updates by email to people who spanned the globe so that they would know how to pray for us. I also enlisted people to pray locally. My fellow elders were constantly interceding for us, and some of my staff began to fast and pray once a week.

But it wasn’t just my family that needed prayer. My church did, too. To this day, I think the most significant way that I cared for my church during this crisis was by introducing several new practices of prayer. For instance, I added a pastoral prayer to the Sunday service in which I brought before the Lord the needs of the congregation. I also introduced my staff and elders to the habit of praying by name through the membership directory, both privately and in our staff and elders’ meetings. And we started a Sunday evening prayer meeting that focused on the church and its ministries. Even though I was often distracted by the crisis at home, the church was becoming a praying church, not least the elders.

Pastor, don’t forget that God answers prayer—for your family and for your church. So, get people praying, and ask them to pray for you specifically.

Involve the Elders 

In addition to prayer, I needed my fellow elders to care for my family and the church in other ways, which meant bringing them into the crisis as much as possible. I was blessed to have godly and trustworthy elders from the start of my pastorate. Not every pastor is given such a gift, so wisdom and discretion are required. But remember that your fellow elders cannot care for your family if they don’t know what’s going on. This was the start of what came to be known as an “executive session” for our elders. We normally had guests and observers in our meetings, but I needed a safe context to talk about what was going on and to allow them to ask probing questions. We also needed some privacy to allow them to pray for specific needs for me and my family. And so, at the end of each elders’ meeting, we excused the guests and I both invited and allowed my fellow elders to pastor me.

I also needed the elders, most of whom were quite new to the role, to step up and pastor the church. Since my time was limited and my attention was divided, I gave almost all my personal ministry time to them. This is a normal priority for many lead pastors, but it was essential in my case. I took time in each elders’ meeting to train these men in pastoral care and disciple making; I devoted a lunch or two each week to meet with them individually. I focused on raising up a few potential new elders who could quickly put their shoulders to the plow. My convictions about the biblical case for a plurality of elders became practical knowledge as their growing capacity and maturity complemented my felt weakness and limitations.

Communicate But Protect 

There came a point when my family’s crisis had to be addressed publicly. By God’s grace, I had not missed a Sunday, and I always had a sermon prepared during the three or four years when the crisis was acute. But the stress and strain on our family was beginning to show. People noticed that some members of my family were not always there on Sunday. Questions were being asked. Sometimes, members would corner one of my kids and ask leading questions. I’ll never forget one dear saint asking me furtively, “I just need to know, is it drugs?” Usually, though, the questions were directed to the elders, and gratefully they wanted to protect my family’s privacy and dignity. But people can tell when there’s something wrong, and a lack of information often breeds misinformation.

The balance between transparency and privacy is always difficult for a pastor’s family, but the challenge is magnified amid suffering and turmoil. Suffering makes us feel vulnerable—because we are—and it often strips the sufferer of dignity and a sense of agency. Most of us don’t want our infirmities widely known, even if the issue isn’t a direct result of sin in our lives. On the other hand, as a pastor, you are not simply a private individual in the church. You, and sometimes your whole family, are on display publicly. The congregation has a reasonable expectation to know if your ability to pastor them is being adversely affected. More importantly, how can they love and support you and your family if they are left in the dark?

This is another situation in which a plurality of elders can be helpful. In my case, I wrote both a letter and a list of FAQs to the congregation. I read the letter at a public meeting, explaining as much as I could and thanking the church for their love and care. Then the chairman of the elders read the FAQs, putting it in his own voice on behalf of the elders. These FAQs gave practical advice, drew boundaries, protected my children, and directed future questions and offers of help to the elders rather than to me (or my kids). The church was served, and so was my family.

Don’t Be a Hero, Just Be a Pastor 

When I read of Paul’s “boasting” in 2 Corinthians 11, even though he calls it “talking foolishly,” I can walk away thinking that the call to pastoral ministry is the call to heroic sacrifice. But then you keep reading, and you find out that Paul’s “thorn in the flesh” (12:7) is the thing that made him feel his weakness in ways that his other suffering did not. It’s this, and all the other examples of his weakness, that he boasts in, because it’s in his weakness that Christ’s “power” is made known (12:9).

This was perhaps the most important lesson I had to learn. My call at church was not to soldier on as if nothing was wrong. It was to pastor the church in my weakness so that Christ’s grace would be magnified. And by God’s grace, that’s what happened, at least to some extent. As I preached each Sunday, regardless of how the week had gone, I learned to depend on the Lord in ways I never had before. My study was often interrupted and, by necessity, my sermon manuscripts got shorter. But people who had heard my preaching for years noticed a change. There was more compassion, more tenderness, more vulnerability, more grace. I often told them that all I was simply doing was preaching to myself and letting them listen in. My weakness and need were palpable to me, and in his grace, God met me there. And through me, he met his people, too.

My call at home was no different, though honestly, I found it much harder. During much suffering and chaos, I wanted to fix things and make them better. I wanted to be strong and to have all the answers. But so often, I didn’t know what to do. I felt helpless and weak. While it was easy to admit that in the pulpit or in an elders’ meeting, it was much harder to admit it to my wife and kids. At home I was usually busy, on task, getting things done to keep the household going. But what my family needed was the same thing my church needed: a husband and a father who was a pastor, aware of his weakness and dependent on God’s grace to lead. “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:10).

The post Pastoring Amid Family Turmoil appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: The following article was originally a letter sent by a pastor to his church to help them think biblically about AI. While Christians will disagree on specific uses of AI, the questions raised in this letter are worth reflecting on.

Dear Church Family,

By now, you’ve heard of artificial intelligence (AI) and, in particular, the large language model (LLM) that allows the software to personalize answers to suit our needs. For years we used a search engine to lead us to websites that housed our answers. Now, the LLM reads most everything the internet holds and digests that data to customize a response for the user. Many experts suggest this is the greatest technological advance since the creation of the internet.

But how should we think of these LLMs as Christians? Entire books have already been written on the subject, but let me suggest ten questions you should answer before you use an LLM like ChatGPT, Claude, or Grok. Right now, my focus is not on how a Christian should use AI to be more efficient at his work but on how Christians should think about AI as they seek to grow in their knowledge of the Bible and service to their church.

I’m not exhorting you to avoid this technology; I’m simply encouraging you to use it well. Here are ten questions to ask before you turn to AI.

1. Will this use of AI decrease my knowledge of the Word?

Scripture repeatedly tells us to meditate on the Word of God (Ps. 119:15–16). This requires carefully hearing, reading, and pondering particular verses. Knowing the right prompts to ask about the Bible is different than knowing the Bible itself.

2. Will this use of AI decrease my dependence on the Holy Spirit?

For years pastors like me have been advised to study the text before going to commentaries. This is not because commentaries are bad, but because the study of the Bible is a Spirit-led effort that requires patience and prayer (1 Cor. 2:12–14). AI can be a helpful resource, but it should not replace careful, prayerful study.

3. Will this use of AI stifle my God-given creativity?

God made us to “be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it” (Gen. 1:28). Part of this is about making children, but another part is about making culture. As individuals made in the image of God, we are to cultivate the world we live in by designing buildings, sculpting statues, writing stories, and drawing sketches. An overreliance on AI can be a way of denying the image of God.

4. Will this use of AI keep me from gaining much-needed expertise?

AI is best employed by people who already have expertise in their field. They know the lay of the land. They can sense when the LLM has produced a flawed product. For experts in their field, AI can increase efficiency. But for those still trying to master a subject, the abuse of AI will keep them from ever becoming proficient. Too much reliance on AI to understand the Bible will, ironically, keep you from actually understanding the Bible.

5. Will this use of AI lead to plagiarism?

Even non-Christians know it is unethical to present someone else’s work as your own. This is because honesty is a virtue (Prov. 12:22). If you present an AI-produced Bible study or Sunday school lesson as your own, you are plagiarizing as surely as if you copied it out of a solid Christian book.

6. Am I aware that AI errs?

I once asked AI to tell me in which book by C. S. Lewis a certain quotation could be found. It gave me the wrong book. I’m told each iteration of AI is better, but it will never be inerrant. I’ve been told to think of AI as a really, really smart intern—helpful but imperfect. Thus, it is dangerous to pass along material produced by generative AI without carefully checking its work.

7. Am I convinced there is a difference between the sacred and the secular?

In other words, we should understand that there is a difference between an email for a vendor written by AI and a hymn or Bible study written by AI. Can AI write a hymn better than me? I have no doubt. And yet, to outsource the writing of a hymn or Bible study to AI is to deny the spiritual nature of the task.

8. Will others care how I employed AI?

My wife, whom I love, would not be pleased if I gave her a romantic poem written by an LLM. You, the congregation I serve, would not be pleased if I gave you a sermon written by an LLM. My wife would rather have an imperfect poem from me than a “perfect” poem produced in a data center. Same with a sermon. There is wisdom in the expression, “It’s the thought that counts.” AI can’t think. AI can’t love.

9. Will this use of AI feed a lazy heart?

I often use AI as a topical analysis of the Bible, much like this book by Walter Elwell that sits on my shelf. AI is a powerful search engine that can compile passages on hell or heaven or angels or grace. I sometimes use AI to edit a document for grammar, clarity, and style. It finds typos in no time at all! Only your conscience can tell you whether you are leaning into an LLM to be efficient or to be lazy.

10. Will this use of AI glorify God?

Like your smartphone, like your computer, AI is a tool. It can be used to bring God glory or to bring him dishonor. It can be used for the purpose of your sanctification, or it can lead you down the road of condemnation. Like your expense report, like the search history in your web browser, your use of AI should be something you are proud of—something you’d be glad for the world to see. If it’s something you want to hide, it is probably not glorifying to God.

Aaron Menikoff
Senior Pastor

The post Using AI Wisely: A Pastor’s Encouragement to His Church appeared first on 9Marks.

Dave Kiehn, Pulling the Thread: A Pastoral Philosophy on Church Revitalization. Baptist Courier, 2025. 316 pages.

“How have you been lately?”

In conversation it becomes clear when someone is genuinely interested in you. They ask thoughtful questions and demonstrate authentic curiosity. On the other hand, we’ve all been part of a one-sided conversation where one person seems interested only in talking about themselves and their own interests. While reading Dave Kiehn’s Pulling the Thread, I felt like I was sitting down for a thoughtful conversation about church revitalization with a loving and faithful pastor who was genuinely interested in the work the Lord had given me to do.

Not since reading Don Carson’s Memoirs of an Ordinary PastorD.A. Carson, Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor: The Life and Reflections of Tom Carson. Crossway, 2025. have I encountered a book on ministry that has encouraged me this much. While this book differs from Carson’s in many ways, the two books share a common thread: they address the wounds, losses, and heavy burdens of pastoral ministry. More specifically, Kiehn addresses challenges related to self-awareness, relational depth, and leadership struggles. He manages to lift readers out of the daily skirmishes of ministry to provide a wider and clearer view of the battlefield. In addition, Pulling the Thread is brimming with good diagnostic questions.

How’s Your Soul? 

The first three chapters alone are worth the price of the book. They prompt pastors to reflect on past wounds, unhealthy habits, family dynamics, and sinful motives in ministry. In the process, these chapters promote growth in self-awareness by gently uncovering blind spots. And yet, rather than leaving pastors feeling condemned, Kiehn guides pastors toward biblically faithful solutions.

How Are Your Relationships Going? 

The book is uniquely about relationships and their role in pastoral leadership. These relationships begin with our communion with God, which then flows into our families and friendships, and from there into our wider ministry at the church. Pulling the Thread shows how the pastor’s presence with his people is needed for his connection and credibility with them.

As pastors, the way we approach relationships directly impacts how we preach and minister. People can sense our affection for them, and they can also sense when we view them simply as projects to complete. Kiehn summons us to model Christ’s gracious heart for sinners and to reflect on how our relational practices affect the congregation’s spiritual health. Pastors are to be marked by truth, love, patience, friendship, and presence. The role of relationships in revitalization is both convicting and inspiring.

How Are You Thinking Through Current Challenges? 

Finally, the book helps the reader discern several thorny issues surrounding elders, deacons, and gospel partnerships. These sections encourage pastors not to micromanage but to empower those with whom they serve. They also help the pastor move from fearfulness to bold faith in the way he helps other churches. I found fresh encouragement to rethink how our church develops leaders, cares for the congregation, and collaborates with other churches.

Can We Unpack This Some More? 

In an age of internet fame, endless scrolling, and YouTube Shorts, we do not need more self-promoting pastors. We need godly, warm, and faithful shepherds. And this book helps pastors to be both convictional and cheerful.

The post Pulling the Thread appeared first on 9Marks.

Scripture does not flatter fathers. Instead, it exposes their failures. Again and again, the Bible places before us men who were chosen by God, used by God, even praised by God, yet who failed grievously in their homes. These stories are written, as the apostle Paul reminds us, “for our instruction” (1 Cor. 10:11).

This instruction is weighty, especially for pastors because their responsibilities as fathers are not an entirely private matter. God ties the credibility of spiritual leadership to the management of the household. “If someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church?” (1 Tim. 3:5). The home is the proving ground of pastoral faithfulness, not a footnote to it.

In an age when ministerial success is often measured by visibility, growth, or influence, Scripture insists on a different metric: nothing less than faithfulness in the ordinary, hidden work of shepherding one’s own children. The Bible’s repeated pattern of terrible fathers serves as a warning flare, highlighting the dangerous ways men drift from faithful leadership. Pastors often drift from a godly example through silence, indulgence, compromise, or neglect.

What follows is not an exhaustive catalogue of bad fathers, but a set of recurring biblical patterns we see in them. These patterns surface across generations and contexts, and they remain painfully relevant for pastors today. By attending to them carefully, shepherds may learn not only how to avoid ruin, but how to lead with humility, clarity, and gospel hope.

Passive Fathers: Adam and the Sin of Silence 

The first father in Scripture sets the pattern for many who follow. Adam’s failure in the garden was not merely disobedience; it was disobedience by the abdication of duty. Genesis 3 presents Adam as standing with Eve as the serpent questions God’s Word. Adam hears the distortion. He sees the temptation unfold. And he says nothing.

Adam’s silence was not neutral. It was sinful. Adam had been charged to guard his bride Eve, along with the garden, and lead her in keeping God’s command. Instead, he withdrew and left her vulnerable to the lies of the enemy. When sin entered the world, it did not come through brute force, but through unresisted lies. Adam’s passivity left the door open for sin to come through and take up residency inside.

Paul interprets the fall through Adam’s failure of headship. Sin and death entered through one man, not because Eve sinned first, but because Adam failed to act as covenant head (Rom. 5:12–19). His silence proved catastrophic.

For pastors, this pattern should feel uncomfortably familiar. Passivity often disguises itself as peacekeeping or patience. But refusing to lead is a kind of leadership all on its own: one that points downward. Fathers who avoid instruction, correction, and spiritual initiative train their children to drift from, rather than stand on, the Rock.

In the church, passive leadership produces passive disciples. When pastors hesitate to speak clearly on sin, the congregation learns that God’s Word is optional. When fathers remain spiritually silent at home, children learn that faith belongs at church but not at the dinner table. Silence does not protect anyone. Adam’s story warns pastors that leadership withheld is leadership failed.

Indulgent Fathers: Eli and the Refusal to Restrain 

Eli knew his sons were corrupt. Scripture tells us plainly that Hophni and Phinehas abused their priestly office, exploited worshipers, and treated the Lord’s offering with contempt (1 Sam. 2:12–17). Sure, Eli rebuked them verbally. But he never restrained them—seemingly because Eli was complicit in their sin of indulgence. God said to Eli: “Why then do you scorn my sacrifices and my offerings that I commanded for my dwelling, and honor your sons above me by fattening yourselves on the choicest parts of every offering of my people Israel?” (1 Sam. 2:29)

God’s indictment against Eli for these things is chilling: “I declare to him that I am about to punish his house forever . . . because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them” (1 Sam. 3:13). Eli honored his sons above the Lord, not by explicit preference but by inaction.

This pattern appears whenever fathers mistake affection for love. Eli loved his sons, but he loved them wrongly. He feared relational fallout more than divine judgment. He preferred short-term peace to long-term faithfulness.

Pastors today face this same temptation. Discipline is costly. Confrontation strains relationships. Correction risks misunderstanding. Yet Scripture is clear: love without discipline is not love at all. Refusing to restrain sin participates in it. “Whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin” (Jas. 4:17).

In the home, indulgent fathers raise children who believe boundaries are negotiable. In the church, indulgent pastors preside over congregations that drift into disorder and doctrinal confusion. God does not judge Eli for his sons’ sins alone, but for his failure to act as a father. Shepherds must remember that holiness preserved today prevents devastation tomorrow, both in the home and the church.

Partial Fathers: Isaac and Jacob 

Few sins fracture families as quietly and persistently as favoritism. Isaac favored Esau. Jacob favored Joseph. In both cases, the result was division, deceit, and deep resentment. Isaac’s favoritism was rooted in appetite. “Isaac loved Esau because he ate of his game, but Rebekah loved Jacob” (Gen. 25:28). Their divided affection poisoned the household.

Jacob, shaped by this environment, repeated the pattern. He clothed Joseph with a special robe and openly preferred him above his brothers (Gen. 37:3–4). The result was predictable. Jealousy festered. Hatred grew. Betrayal followed.

Favoritism teaches children that love must be competed for—to the victor go the spoils. It creates winners and losers within the same household. And it distorts the character of God, who shows no partiality.

Pastors are not immune. Favoritism may appear in subtler forms, such as unequal attention, disproportionate praise, or emotional investment in one child over another. In the church, it surfaces when leaders privilege certain families, donors, or personalities.

Partiality undermines trust. It trains people to perform rather than rest in grace. Faithful fathers and pastors must reflect the impartial love of God, who shows kindness freely and consistently.

Compromised Fathers: Lot and Worldly Proximity 

Lot’s story is a warning about the slow danger of compromise. He did not wake up one day intending to lose his family. He simply chose what looked advantageous. He lifted his eyes, saw the fertile plains, and pitched his tent near Sodom (Gen. 13:10–12).

Proximity eventually became participation, and participation became normalization. By Genesis 19, Lot lived inside the city gates. His family had absorbed Sodom’s values. His sons-in-law dismissed a divine warning as a joke. His wife looked back, rejecting the words of the angel. His daughters carried Sodom’s ways with them even after their escape.

Lot’s compromise did not stay personal. It shaped his household. Fathers teach by what they tolerate. Children learn not only from instruction, but from what their parents move toward, excuse, or ignore.

Pastors face constant pressure to soften convictions for the sake of relevance or comfort. Yet holiness erodes slowly, not suddenly. When leaders normalize worldliness, they catechize their children and congregations in compromise. The church does not need fathers who withdraw from the world, but fathers who resist being shaped by it.

Distracted Fathers: Samuel and Neglect Through Busyness 

Samuel stands as a sobering reminder that public faithfulness does not guarantee private attentiveness. Scripture gives no indication that Samuel was morally corrupt or doctrinally compromised. He was a faithful prophet. Yet his sons “did not walk in his ways” and instead pursued dishonest gain (1 Sam. 8:3).

The text suggests neglect. “[Samuel] went on a circuit year by year to Bethel, Gilgal, and Mizpah. And he judged Israel in all these places. Then he would return to Ramah, for his home was there” (1 Sam. 7:16–17). His public calling eclipsed his private ministry of discipling those in his own home. The result was devastating, not only for his family but for Israel, which demanded a king in response to his sons’ failure.

Pastors are especially vulnerable here. Ministry creates endless demands. Sermons must be prepared. Crises must be managed. People must be shepherded. Yet no amount of public ministry compensates for neglected fatherhood.

Paul’s qualification for elders assumes that the home reveals the man. The church should not celebrate gifted leaders who neglect their children. Faithfulness is either holistic or it is hollow.

Insecure Fathers: Saul and Controlling by Fear 

Saul ruled by fear rather than faith. His leadership was marked by insecurity, jealousy, and suspicion. When David’s success threatened Saul’s status, Saul turned not only against David but also against his own son, Jonathan (1 Sam. 20:30–33).

Control became Saul’s strategy for survival. Loyalty was demanded, not cultivated. Obedience was coerced, not inspired. His home mirrored his reign: volatile, fearful, and fractured. Control is a counterfeit for godly authority. It arises not from strength but from insecurity. Fathers who rule through intimidation may achieve compliance, but they destroy trust.

In the church, authoritarian leadership often masquerades as decisiveness. But fear-driven leadership produces shallow unity and quiet resentment. Gospel authority operates differently. It persuades, shepherds, and serves. Fathers and pastors must lead from confidence in God’s sovereignty, not anxiety over their position or their desire for respect.

Ashamed Fathers: David and the Silence of Moral Compromise 

David’s failure as a father was especially tragic because of his strengths. He was courageous, compassionate, and deeply devoted to the Lord. Yet his moral collapse with Bathsheba crippled his leadership at home.

When Amnon assaulted Tamar, David was angry but silent. When Absalom murdered Amnon, David failed to act. When Absalom rebelled, the kingdom bled. David’s passivity compounded his earlier sin. Guilt erodes courage. Unconfessed sin weakens discipline. David’s household disintegrated not because he lacked affection but because he lacked godly resolve.

Pastors must take this warning seriously. Moral failure does not remain in the shadows. It echoes off the walls of homes, destroying families and churches. Only true repentance restores fellowship with God and can heal cracked foundations.

Shortsighted Fathers: Hezekiah and Indifference to the Future 

Hezekiah’s failure was subtle. After showing Babylonian envoys of his wealth, he received word that future generations would suffer because of his pride. His response is startling: “Why not, if there will be peace and security in my days?” (2 Kgs. 20:19). This is the sin of shortsightedness. Hezekiah accepted delayed judgment with indifference because he prioritized immediate comfort over generational faithfulness. He didn’t care that his children and their children would be left paying the bill so long as he wasn’t responsible for it.

Pastors must think beyond their own tenure. Churches are normally not built for one generation alone but entrusted to generations to come. Fathers who measure success by present stability often neglect long-term spiritual health and eternal reward. Faithful leadership asks not only, “Is there peace now?” but “What peace will this produce in the future?”

Why Scripture Shows Us Terrible Fathers 

The point of these warnings is not condemnation, but renewed faithfulness. Every flawed example leaves us more aware of our own need for God’s help. God reveals the insufficiency of human leadership so that his people will long for his perfect fatherhood. Human fathers fail because they are not the perfect Father.

Perhaps as you read through these patterns, you recognize more than history. You may recognize yourself. You see moments of passivity, seasons of indulgence, compromises you justified, conversations you avoided, or absence at home. Scripture does not expose these failures to crush you, but to call you out of hiding. The gospel invites honesty. God already knows where you have failed as a father. He is not surprised by your weakness, your fear, or your regret. What he requires is not self-defense but humble repentance. The same Word that names your sin also invites you to bring it into the light, where grace does its restoring work.

The good news for terrible fathers is not that the past can be undone, but that it can be redeemed. Jesus Christ came as the faithful Son who perfectly revealed the Father whom we have failed to reflect. He bore the guilt of our passivity, our anger, our neglect, and our pride. At the cross, the Father did not overlook sin; he judged it fully in his Son. And in the resurrection, God declared that forgiveness is real, cleansing is complete, and renewed obedience is possible.

Brother pastor, confess your sin. Turn from it. Ask for forgiveness where it is needed. Then, walk forward in faithfulness, trusting that God delights to restore broken fathers and families. He will use repentance as the instrument of lasting change in your children’s lives.

The post The Biblical Pattern of Terrible Fathers appeared first on 9Marks.

After a year and a half of sprinting in my first pastorate, I felt drained.

For a while, I thought that was totally fine. Ministry is supposed to be hard, right? And as a single man, there was nothing stopping me from leveraging my singleness to serve others. To be clear, I do think the undivided devotion Paul speaks of in 1 Corinthians 7 enables me to flex and focus in special ways. But an undivided devotion is not an unlimited one.

As the fog of exhaustion encumbered my soul, I found it difficult to focus on my work and my flock. My attempt to run harder had me running on fumes. Being a single man didn’t change the fact that I am just a man.

Advice to singles often swings from exhortations to productivity (“you’ll never have this much free time in your life again!”) to sympathy (“trust God to help you through this season”). But what isn’t talked about as often is the need for single pastors to rest. This can be more difficult than you think.

Limited Energy 

Getting a smartwatch was a rude awakening. Mine tracks my sleeping, and I had told people that I was usually in bed by 11 p.m. and awake around 6 a.m. But my watch told a different story. The amount of time I was actually sleeping instead of doomscrolling or watching videos was around five to six hours.

My exhaustion had less to do with my day-to-day ministry load and more with my restlessness. You might say my “rest” wasn’t actually that restful. And by neglecting my rest, I was, in a sense, neglecting my work. Now I’m not saying there aren’t times where we have to embrace the long hours and chaos of ministry to address the needs of our people. But if that becomes our default rhythm, it’s possible that the primary cause of our fatigue isn’t the church’s problems but our own priorities. Like Martha, we may be “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:41) while neglecting the most important things.

This means we have a responsibility to guard the things that give us rest. Whether it’s our sleep, our private devotional life, or our days off, these gifts from the Lord are designed to refresh us and recharge us for the work we’ve been called to. It is not inherently selfish or lazy to take deliberate periods of rest.

Limited Perspective 

As with many things in the Christian life, the need for rest wasn’t anything that I didn’t know already. I’ve heard countless warnings and exhortations about it. But I lacked the perspective to see the long-term effects of my being constantly on the go.

Of course, this is a danger for all pastors, but single pastors face a unique challenge. Having a family can be like a mirror to a pastor’s soul as it allows you to see the effects of your work on your spouse and kids. But without those guardrails, we may be heading toward burnout with very little warning.

Those risks are compounded with the inner anxiety of feeling like we’re not doing enough. There’s always more to do—more calls to make, more books to read, more lessons to prepare, etc. A savior complex without intervention is a lethal combination.

That’s why we need thoughtful brothers and sisters who can give us honest feedback. That is, we need a spiritual family. And this is precisely what God has given us in the church. 1 Timothy 5:1–2 exhorts us to treat older men as fathers, younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters.

Who knows you well enough to know your limits? Who has permission to look at your schedule and your life and ask honest questions about how you’re doing?

Honest feedback helps me on two fronts. First, it helps expose areas of idleness. Gentle nudges have propelled me further than I would have gone on my own. Second, it helps me see when I need to pull back. And when I do decide to pull back, I can rest assured that it’s not a decision I’ve made in isolation. I’ve received the counsel of wise family members who know and love me.

For many single pastors, getting this kind of feedback will be something we have to intentionally cultivate. Whether it’s inviting our fellow pastors or church members to examine the rhythms of our life or pursuing mentors who can speak into our lives, we need the perspective of others.

Personally, I’ve confessed to church members that I’m close with when I’m lacking in commitment, energy, and encouragement. I’m so grateful that these saints have heard, loved, and prayed for me while pushing me to be more like Christ.

Embrace Your Limits 

When I asked Vaughn Roberts, himself a single pastor, what advice he’d give other single pastors, he said, “Be willing to tell your friends that you’re lonely.” Years of pastoral ministry had taught him to stop maintaining facades of strength and to embrace his limits.

A few months later, I found myself discouraged and tired, so I texted a few friends and asked for prayer. I also asked if anyone was free for dinner that evening, and an evening of melancholy was prevented by Christian fellowship. I wonder how many assaults from Satan would be thwarted if we were more willing to ask for help.

Embracing our limits isn’t an admission of defeat. It’s a recognition of reality. For it’s in our weakness that God’s power is made perfect (2 Cor. 12:9).

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Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

“You speak with the voice of the Serpent.” “You preach the doctrine of demons.” Ouch. These are some of the criticisms I have received over the past twelve years of pastoral ministry. Of course, not all my critics have aligned me with Satanic forces of darkness. Much, if not most, of the criticism has been quite helpful for my growth and sanctification.

Anyone in a public office is going to face some level of criticism, and that includes pastors. Not everyone will agree with our decisions, our exegesis and applications, our actions, or our advice. And at times, our people will let us know why they think we’re wrong. Criticism is inevitable.

In a fallen world, ungodly criticism is also inevitable. Sometimes ungodly criticism will come our way from unregenerate people. I am convinced that the person who told me that I speak with the voice of the Serpent was one of those people. Such criticism from unbelievers is easier to handle. It can even be encouraging. Jesus himself said, “Woe to you, when all people speak well of you, for so their fathers did to the false prophets” (Luke 6:26). People who love darkness hate the light (John 3:19–20). Criticism leveled against us from the domain of darkness is often a reminder that we are doing something right.

In this short article, I’m not going to address the ungodly criticism that comes from unbelievers. Instead, my aim is to help us think carefully and biblically about how to handle the ungodly criticism that comes from godly people—that is, fellow saints indwelt by the Spirit and loved by Christ. Such people still sin against each other and, at times, against us.

We should not expect that our people will always package their criticism with encouraging affirmations, deferential language, and balanced nuance. Sometimes they will bite. Sometimes their words will be intended to hurt. Sometimes they will falsely judge our motives. We should be ready for this kind of ungodly criticism lest, on the one hand, we become arrogant, untouchable, angry, and uncorrectable; or, on the other hand, discouraged, defeated, and afraid to lead. We don’t want to find ourselves like Elijah retreating to a “juniper tree” to wallow in self-pity (1 Kgs. 19:4, KJV). We want to receive ungodly criticism with humility, patience, resilience, and wisdom. Toward that end, I have four suggestions.

Genuinely Desire the Edification of the Criticizer 

Giving criticism is hard. Giving criticism in a mature, reasonable, dispassionate way is even harder. Let’s be honest, most of our members have not thought carefully about what it means to give and receive godly criticism before coming to us with a concern. People often bottle-up their frustrations internally, and when they finally talk about them, their passions get the best of them. Of course, I’m not excusing ungodly behavior. I’m simply making an observation that can help us be more compassionate and less defensive.

Even when we are the object of ungodly criticism, we must desire the spiritual good of the criticizer. As the apostle Paul wrote to the Christians in Rome, “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up” (Rom. 15:1–2). He says something similar to Christians in Galatia: “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness” (Gal. 6:1). These two passages are not addressing the exact same issue, but they both highlight a relevant principle: the “strong” and the “spiritual” should proactively work for the good of the “weak” and those “caught” in sin. A posture of the heart that genuinely desires the good of others is necessary for handling ungodly criticism.

We must also remember that we are under obligation as undershepherds not to please ourselves but to build up God’s people, including the criticizer. In other words, we need humility. Paul exhorted the “spiritual” among the Galatians not to become proud when restoring a brother or sister caught in sin: “For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself” (Gal. 6:3). Frustration and resentment grow in the soil of pride. If our hearts are proud, we will seek our own good instead of the good of the criticizer when his or her ungodliness is evident. We should ask ourselves: Do we care more about winning an argument than shepherding this person? Do we care more about justifying ourselves than helping a brother or sister grow in spiritual maturity?

Ungodly criticism often comes from Christians who do not yet exemplify mature Christian virtues, at least not in this particular area. We do believe that sanctification is progressive, after all. Even our harshest critic is loved by the Good Shepherd and has been given the same righteousness that justifies us, which means we need the grace of God as much as they do. Remain humble, then, and remember that the critic is not a hindrance to your ministry—he or she is your ministry. Your job is to work for their good. You and I will need wisdom to know when to push back and when to listen, when to bear patiently and when to confront and correct. But the aim is the same: to build them up in their walk with Christ.

Know Your People Well 

People have different personalities, struggles, weaknesses, hobbyhorses, influences, and interests. Before we let ungodly criticism cripple or calcify us, we should ask questions like: Does this person have a persnickety personality? Does he perceive himself to be the church’s theological watchdog with the spiritual gift of sniffing out heresy? Is she prone to emotional highs and lows? Does he come from an abusive home and have a history of unrighteous anger? Is she hypersensitive because the leaders of her previous church did her great spiritual harm? Is this person a new believer? Do they have a history of assuming motives?

Of course, recognizing the weaknesses or idiosyncrasies of others should not be an excuse to dismiss their criticism as illegitimate (more on this below), but it should help us respond to criticism with appropriate poise, maturity, and compassion. To be clear, we are not people pleasers, so we must not flatter or compromise the truth. However, knowing people well may help us discern whether someone simply needs to be heard or whether their criticism calls for a response. A wise and loving husband will not get drawn into a meaningless argument when he knows his wife has had a hard day. Likewise, a good pastor will not become overly affected by criticism if he knows the criticism is, in part, the fruit of other variables in that person’s life. Sometimes losing an argument is a win, and sometimes winning an argument is a loss.

Learn from the Criticism 

Just because criticism is given in an ungodly manner or with an ungodly motive doesn’t mean there is no truth in it. Pastors must be open to correction. We need the help of God’s Spirit to cultivate humility so that we do not think more highly of ourselves than we ought (Rom. 12:3). Like all members, we have our own idiosyncrasies, weaknesses, and blind spots. God may use clunky, and even ungodly, criticism to edify us.

The book of Proverbs reminds us repeatedly that the wise man learns from reproof, but fools despise correction:

• Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid. (Prov. 12:1)
• The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice. (Prov. 12:15)
• The ear that listens to life-giving reproof will dwell among the wise. (Prov. 15:31)
• Like a gold ring or an ornament of gold is a wise reprover to a listening ear. (Prov. 25:12)

A wise pastor will not swiftly dismiss criticism because of the way it was packaged. Instead, he will give due consideration to the substance of the critique.

Brothers, let us not reject rubies because they are wrapped in toilet paper! Maybe God is using the exegetical watchdog in your church to keep you theologically precise. Maybe God is using the hypersensitive saint to help you grow in patience and gentleness. Maybe the church member wrongly impugned your motives, but did the critique reveal a weakness in your leadership? Next time you get criticized, even in an ungodly manner, ask yourself if the substance of the criticism is true or if there is something you need to learn from it. A plurality of elders is useful here, as faithful, mature brothers can help us discern if the criticism is justified or unfounded.

Stay Near the Cross

In his excellent article, “The Cross and Criticism,”Alfred J. Poirier, “The Cross and Criticism,” The Gospel Coalition, July 28, 2019, https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/cross-criticism/. Alfred Poirier reminds us that the key to handling all types of criticism is “understanding, believing, and affirming all God says about us in the cross of Christ.” The cross simultaneously declares the heinousness of our sin and the reality of our forgiveness and justification in Christ. The cross has “criticized” us and “judged” us “more intensely, deeply, pervasively, and truly than anyone else ever could,” and yet the cross is also the rock-solid assurance of God’s love for us and the basis of our justification (Rom. 3:23–26). By understanding the meaning of the cross, we can rightly say with Poirier: “I do not fear man’s criticism, for I have already agreed with God’s criticism. And I do not look ultimately for man’s approval, for I have gained by grace God’s approval.”Ibid.

Meditating regularly on the gospel will prepare us to handle ungodly criticism without sniveling or sneering, but instead with humility, patience, resilience, and wisdom. In fact, how we respond to ungodly criticism might prove to be one of our most profound opportunities to emulate the love of Christ. For “God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Christ reconciled us to God even while we were enemies (Rom. 5:10). We can work for the good of our criticizers because Jesus cared about the ultimate good of his crucifiers, and that includes you and me. 

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Paul T. Sloan, Jesus and the Law of Moses: The Gospels and the Restoration of Israel within First-Century Judaism. Baker Academic, 2025. 288 pages.

Scholars hope their work will receive a wide readership and have an impact on the status quo, but it’s often difficult to tell which works will make a splash. One recent work that fits that description is Paul T. Sloan’s Jesus and the Law of Moses: The Gospels and the Restoration of Israel Within First-Century Judaism (Baker Academic, 2025).

On one level, it is not difficult to understand why many have received Sloan’s work so warmly. Rather than boring and stilted academic writing, Sloan offers lucid prose with humor and personality. You almost want him to be right. The book breathes with eloquence and ease.

But Sloan’s strengths are not merely stylistic. He holds up Jesus as the interpreter of the Mosaic law and the one who restored Israel from exile. In the process, he provides insight after insight into Jesus’s handling of the law. However, the insights and eloquence are mixed with serious errors. Sloan’s analysis is problematic in its presentation of the law-gospel distinction, in its Christology, in its insistence on continued law-keeping for Jews, and in its denial of Christ’s death as a sacrifice of atonement. We will consider each of these shortcomings, but first we’ll highlight some of the book’s strengths.

Strengths of the Book 

Sloan’s thesis is that central to Christ’s ministry in the Synoptic Gospels is his role as the eschatological Messiah who comes to bring about the restoration of Israel. Christ is an authoritative interpreter of the law who adjudicates debates on how to apply the law’s ordinances in light of the eschatological Jubilee (see Lev. 25) he brings in with Israel’s restoration. If Sloan is right, then some of the more popular presentations of Jesus’s disputes with the Pharisees are misleading. Sloan takes umbrage, for instance, with the notion that Jesus’s criticism of the Pharisees is something like, The Pharisees love the law too much. Rather than minimizing or disparaging the law, Sloan insists that Jesus is often correcting the Pharisees’ misinterpretation of the law (whether that’s because they fail to recognize who he is, or because they fail to recognize the eschatological significance of his coming).

In other words, many of the showdowns between Jesus and the Pharisees are not debates between those who love the law too much (the Pharisees) and someone who loves God more (Jesus); rather, they are intramural debates between those who love the law yet disagree on how to interpret and apply it. According to Sloan, Christ’s main criticism of the Pharisees is not that they idolized the law but that they didn’t know “what time it was” and therefore didn’t interpret the law rightly. The eschatological restoration of Israel was upon them, but they were seeking to apply the law in ordinary times. Sloan writes, “It seems that Jesus treats the Sabbath as a microcosm of the Jubilee he heralds, and thus he claims that it is not just permissible but necessary that on the Sabbath he do what the Sabbath qua Jubilee requires” (131). What Sabbath and Jubilee require is the release of bondage from the domain of Satan and death. This is why, as Sloan convincingly demonstrates, Christ’s healings all correspond to the reversal of Levitical curses.

Some of Sloan’s best moments are nestled in this demonstration of Jesus as the divinely authorized teacher and interpreter of the law. This is seen especially in his treatment of the “permitted profanations” of the law, as when his disciples plucked heads of grain on the Sabbath (Matt. 12:1–8). Jesus’s actions have precedence: “David and the priests have ‘violated’ the law, but they show that in some cases violations are permitted” (159). Just as David and the priests may profane the Sabbath or violate the law because of a greater or situation-specific command, so also Jesus’s “mission takes precedence over otherwise good rituals and commandments” (149). Sloan goes on to argue that Jesus’s work is “commissioned and that such a commissioning is at least on par with the temple” (138). The “something greater than the temple” (Matt. 12:6) does not refer specifically to Jesus himself but to Jesus and the disciples’ mission.

The strength of Sloan’s argument comes with a necessary caveat. It is not simply that Jesus’s commissioning is on par with the temple and parallel with David’s, or the priests’, commissioning, as Sloan emphasizes; Jesus is also Lord of the Sabbath and the fulfillment of the temple. He is inaugurating a new eschatological reality and era in the New Covenant, which the law pointed to all along. Sloan agrees. However, he goes on to argue that Jesus, as Lord of the law, reestablishes the law and restores God’s people to a form of law observance. And this brings us to a few serious criticisms of Sloan’s work.

The Law-Gospel Distinction Misrepresented 

Our first objection, though by no means the most significant, is that Sloan sets up a false foil when he contrasts his approach with the law-gospel distinction articulated in the Reformed tradition. The kind of false contrast described above—between a laid-back Jesus and the uptight Pharisees—may be more common at a popular level (or for certain strains in the Reformed tradition), but it does not characterize the best articulations of the law-gospel distinction. Yet Sloan uses these crude portrayals as his foil to dismiss the notion that Jesus dealt with legalism in his ministry.

But the law-gospel distinction has never been about maligning or rejecting the law. What the Reformers rejected—following Paul and Jesus, they believed—was not the law per se, but rather the attempt to establish one’s righteousness by adhering to the law. The 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith is representative of this Reformed approach to the law:

Although true believers are not under the law as a covenant of works, to be thereby justified or condemned, yet it is of great use to them as well as to others, in that as a rule of life, informing them of the will of God and their duty, it directs and binds them to walk accordingly; discovering also the sinful pollutions of their natures, hearts, and lives, so as examining themselves thereby, they may come to further conviction of, humiliation for, and hatred against, sin; together with a clearer sight of the need they have of Christ and the perfection of his obedience; it is likewise of use to the regenerate to restrain their corruptions, in that it forbids sin; and the threatenings of it serve to show what even their sins deserve, and what afflictions in this life they may expect for them, although freed from the curse and unallayed rigour thereof.The Second London Baptist Confession of Faith (1689), 19.6

The law reveals and condemns sin, but it also instructs people in righteousness. The law is not powerless, then, but it is completely powerless to justify (e.g., Gal. 2:16).

So while some mistakenly call a high view of the law “legalism,” and while this so-called form of “legalism” is by no means in Christ’s rhetorical crosshairs in the Synoptic Gospels, this does not mean that Christ never challenges a form of legalism in the Synoptic Gospels. It is difficult to imagine, for example, how the parable of the Pharisee and tax collector in Luke 18:9–14 (which receives only a footnote on page 31) can be read as anything but an indictment against legalism: “He told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous” (Luke 18:9). Mark 2:17 is also relevant here, where Christ offers a summary of his entire ministry: “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” This cannot mean that Jesus thinks there are some who are truly righteous and therefore not in need of him. Rather, he’s referring to those who think they’re righteous and will thus be deaf to his message. Jesus is saying that he came to call those who know that they lack righteousness. Again, claiming a righteousness before God based on personal adherence to the law may not be at the heart of every dispute, but this misuse of the law wasn’t altogether absent during Jesus’s ministry either.This mischaracterization of the law-gospel distinction is not unique to Sloan, particularly when it comes to scholars who work in the area of “Biblical Studies.”

If Jesus and the Law of Moses had simply stopped here—with a modest recalibration of how to understand Christ’s disputes with the Pharisees, along with a couple shots below the belt at traditional Reformed theology—there would only be little to complain about. But Sloan is far more ambitious in his proposed “recalibrations,” and herein lies our main concern with this book.

Diminished Christology 

One of the consequences of Sloan’s recalibration of Christ’s role and his relationship to the law is that it leaves him with a rather diminished Christology. Christ seems to be reduced to little more than an authoritative interpreter of the law. And while this may in part address his prophetic office, one is left with the impression that his priestly and kingly offices find little purchase in the Synoptic Gospels (e.g., the typical proof texts for Christ’s kingly and priestly offices, as well as his divine authority as “God from God,” are used by Sloan to bolster his thesis about Christ’s role as the eschatological Messiah).

Even more pointedly, Christ’s obedience to the law does not appear to be, for Sloan, vicarious in any way. When Christ “fulfills” the law, he is merely “upholding” the right standard—a standard he expects his people to live up to for themselves. There is no category in Sloan’s proposal for something like Christ’s passive obedience, that is, his entire life of suffering that culminated in his death, which renders his people “not guilty” on account of his propitiation, or atoning sacrifice. Nor do we hear of Christ’s active obedience—his fulfillment of God’s law, which renders his people “righteous.” For example, Sloan writes, “Jesus’s point in Matt. 5:17, then, seems to be that he came to do what the Law and the Prophets require, and such commandments perdure at least until ‘all is accomplished’ (5:18)” (81). Christ, apparently, does not meet the standards of the law on behalf of his people so much as he upholds and clarifies those standards for them to then meet on their own. He, in this sense, accomplishes little more than emboldening them to do better.

Even the death of Christ, for Sloan, is not vicarious in the strict sense:

Knowing his fate, Jesus goes to the cross willingly, interpreting his death as an endurance of the covenant discipline through which it will be exhausted for those who repent and follow Jesus’s instruction. Through his resurrection, the restoration is inaugurated, and (now summarizing just Matthew and Luke) having received authority from his heavenly Father, Jesus commissions his disciples to spread this news to the rest of Israel and the nations, “teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you” (Matt. 28:20; cp. Luke 24:46–47). (75)

By “repent and follow Jesus’s instructions,” Sloan seems to mean something along the lines of “live in keeping with the Law as Jesus teaches it” (79, 209). In other words, continued law-keeping and observance is, for Sloan, an essential component of the repentance upon which Christ’s death as “covenant discipline” is predicated.

Law-Keeping and Dividing the People of God 

And this raises a fundamental problem with Sloan’s argument. Sloan’s proposal is that Christ’s work of restoration in the New Covenant effectively reaffirms the law. In this, Sloan follows the approach of E.P. Sanders, who held that Second Temple Judaism was not legalistic but rather a grace-based religion. Many of the assumptions of Sloan’s work are indebted to Sanders’s covenantal nomism.E.P. Sanders used the phrase “covenantal nomism” to characterize Israel’s perceived relationship to the law during Second Temple Judaism. According to Sanders, God had graciously brought Israel into a covenant relationship. Keeping the law, then, was not a way of getting into the covenant but rather the way Israel was expected to maintain, or stay in, this covenant relationship. The Pharisees, contrary to popular opinion, were not legalists but too lenient in their grace-based approach. For instance, Sloan critiques N.T. Wright, who said, “Jesus was replacing adherence or allegiance to Temple and Torah with allegiance to himself. Restoration and purity were to be had, not through the usual channels, but through Jesus” (138).N.T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, Christian Origins and the Question of God, Vol. 2 (Fortress, 1996), 274. Sloan responds that Jesus’s debate was not with “the Pharisees over matters of food, purity laws or the Sabbath” or Jewish law observance (171). The issue for the Pharisees is that Jesus made himself “not just the herald, but the executor of the restoration, divinely authorized as the Son of God to teach the law and to serve as Israel’s authoritative prophet endowed with the authority to summon Israel to God through himself” (171). This was a battle over authority, not over perceived threats to the law. In other words, Sloan agrees with Wright on the need for allegiance to Jesus, but he sides with Sanders that this allegiance to Jesus is expressed through continued careful “grace-based” law observance in the New Covenant era.

We believe that this approach to the law misunderstands Jesus’s teaching. Jesus fulfilled the law, and at the same time, he ushered in something completely new in the New Covenant. It is noteworthy that Jesus’s followers were accused of teaching that “Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and will change the customs that Moses delivered to us” (Acts 6:14). This is a question of authority, but it is more than that. The religious leaders saw Jesus and his work as a threat to their place (temple), cultic institutions, and overall understanding of the law. Jesus was ushering in something new and unprecedented. He inaugurated the time of fulfillment that brought about the end of Mosaic law observance as covenantally binding.

There are endless debates about the law (Titus 3:9), and the debates over discontinuity and continuity will continue. But Sloan’s emphasis on the continuity of the law and the necessity of law observance within the New Covenant era invites misunderstanding that hits close to the very heart of the freedom offered in the gospel. Sloan argues that Jesus requires Jews to continue observing the law as part of the New Covenant (209). Sloan’s emphasis on the necessity of continued law observance even under the New Covenant is a shocking claim.

Sloan’s interpretation leads him to sympathize with the law-keeping demands represented in the Judaizers’ perspective. They claimed, “It is necessary to circumcise them [the Gentiles] and to direct them to keep the law of Moses” (Acts 15:5). Sloan comments sympathetically, “Circumcising them and directing them to observe the law of Moses need not be interpreted as a sign of ill will but can be seen as a desire for their full inclusion: Gentiles are really joining the family, and so they must do all that the family does” (222).

Judaizers argued at least two things: (1) Belief in Jesus includes following the Mosaic law as an essential ground for one’s righteous standing (Acts 15:1); (2) Gentiles must become Jewish in order to be brought into the covenant (Acts 15:5). Unlike the Judaizers, Sloan does not argue that Gentile Christians should observe the law as though they are now Jewish. He also is clear that law-keeping is not required for salvation. However, Sloan does argue that as a result of salvation, Jesus “teaches his fellow Jews to keep all aspects of the Law, from the Ten Commandments and the love of neighbor to the purity regulations and tithing requirements” (215). In other words, Jews are to continue to observe the law.

Sloan also argues that Gentiles should keep aspects of the Levitical laws that apply to them (not circumcision or dietary laws) (230). Of course, the typical interpretation of Christ’s teachings—which Sloan critiques in his work—places significant emphasis on the fact that Christ’s death and resurrection are the means of ushering in the New Covenant and inaugurating a new age. This New Covenant does not push for strict observance of the Mosaic law but rather obedience to the new “law of Christ,” which is the fulfillment of the Mosaic law (1 Cor. 9:21; Gal. 6:2). Sloan acknowledges this as a potential problem for his suggestion that Christ reestablishes the law in the New Covenant, but he dismisses it (84–85). For our part, we do not believe Sloan’s rebuttal is adequate and maintain that he does not give enough weight to the monumental shift that takes place between Christ’s obedient life and his resurrection.

So, while Sloan’s view is not that of the Judaizers that Paul faced, his argument for continued law observance is subject to some of the same critiques that Paul issues in Galatians and elsewhere. Arguments for continued law observance misunderstand the purpose of the law and its place in redemptive history. Sloan’s thesis misunderstands the time of eschatological freedom of the New Covenant in the gospel. In this new era, to call people to ceremonial law-keeping is akin to submitting again to the “yoke of slavery” and puts one under obligation to keep the whole law (Gal. 5:1–3). Yet Sloan argues that Jewish believers are still called to law observance. They should be circumcised and follow the cultic rituals, Sabbaths, festivals, and dietary laws of the Old Covenant as a part of their New Covenant discipleship. This flies in the face of the New Testament’s consistent argument concerning the fading away of the Old Covenant shadow, which was confirmed in the destruction of the temple in AD 70.

The teaching of the New Testament, especially the books of Galatians and Hebrews, undermines the necessity of continued ceremonial law observance. Hebrews clearly teaches the fading away of the Old Covenant with its laws and institutions as it gave way to the New Covenant. To be clear, Hebrews does not have a negative view of the Old Covenant but instead teaches that it was a temporary, external covenant. In Jesus, the time of reformation has come (Heb. 9:10). The pressing issue in the book of Hebrews is: How do believers (likely Jewish believers in particular) interact with the cultic institutions and liturgy in Jerusalem at this point in redemptive history? The destruction of the temple was a definitive affirmation of the theology of Hebrews. The Old Covenant and its shadows preach Christ, while its rituals and law-keeping are becoming obsolete. This means the Old Covenant “is ready to vanish away” (Heb. 8:13).

Sloan’s approach offers a fundamental misunderstanding of the New Covenant’s newness and binds the conscience of believers (especially Jewish believers) to law-keeping, which has been abolished and is passing away (Eph. 2:15; Heb. 8:13; 9:9–10). It also divides the one people of God, the “one new man,” into two men again (Eph. 2:11–22). Sloan explicitly names this concern and responds by saying that distinctions do not equate to disunity (209–212; 221–231). But Sloan’s vision of the Jew-Gentile relationship is much more than a mere ethnic distinction: it is a fundamentally separate program for obedience. Jews and Gentiles, in Sloan’s argument, are saved through Jesus, but they have fundamentally different ways of pursuing sanctification and holiness. Indeed, some of Israel’s laws—which believing Jews must ostensibly obey today, according to Sloan—were explicitly intended to distinguish them from the Gentiles. How, in such a framework, are Jews and Gentiles to function in a single flock under a single Shepherd (John 10:14–18)?

Sacrifice of Atonement? 

Sloan’s gospel confusion comes through not only in his emphasis on law observance but is especially seen in his understanding of the cross. He argues that “Jesus’s blood shedding is not presented as an atoning sacrifice in the ‘technical’ sense” (201). What he means is that Jesus’s death does not meet the stipulations set up in the law. Therefore, it is not technically a sacrifice: “Clinging to the metaphorical domain of ‘atoning sacrifice’ to interpret Jesus’s death in the Synoptic Gospels signals a misrepresentation of both sacrifice and Jesus’s death” (203). We, for our part, will indeed cling to this “atoning sacrifice” language. But we don’t do this as though the sacrifice of Christ were operating in a metaphorical domain. Just the opposite: every sacrifice of the Old Covenant was in the metaphorical domain of this more real sacrifice of atonement in the death of Christ.

Sloan’s wording in this section of Jesus and the Law of Moses (200–206) moves beyond the Synoptics’ presentation of the death of Christ to a more categorical theological statement. He is clear in his emphasis that, in the theology of the Synoptics, it is a categorical error to understand Jesus’s death as an atoning sacrifice. Given his more limited focus in this book, it is understandable that Sloan addresses neither Paul nor Hebrews nor John. But is the Synoptic understanding of the death of Christ fundamentally at odds with the rest of the New Testament? Are John, Paul, and the author of Hebrews guilty of “misrepresentation of both sacrifice and Jesus’s death” when they present Jesus’s death as an atoning sacrifice? The rest of the New Testament is also engaged in the same work Sloan gives himself to in Jesus and the Law of Moses: interpreting the work of Christ—including his life and death and resurrection—in light of the law of Moses.

But it’s not only John, Hebrews, and Paul that present Jesus’s sacrifice as an atonement; the Synoptics do as well. In fact, Jesus’s death is understood as a sacrifice of atonement in Matthew, Mark, and Luke.For example, see David Garland, A Theology of Mark’s Gospel (Zondervan Academic, 2015), 472–506. Isaiah’s second exodus theme and his prophecy of a Suffering Servant could be called the theological foundation of these Gospels. Isaiah 53 is alluded to in Mark 10:45 (including the idea of exchange, Isaiah 53:10–12; see also Matt. 20:28) and Mark 14:61 (“like a lamb. . .silent,” Isaiah 53:7), and it is (explicitly) quoted in Luke 22:37 (“he was numbered with the transgressors,” Isaiah 53:12). The Synoptics describe Jesus’s sacrifice of atonement in the framework of the Suffering Servant and thus invite further theological reflection and articulation, which is provided in the rest of the New Testament.

Similarly, Sloan draws a sharp contrast between Christ’s death as “the blood of the covenant” and his death as “atoning sacrifice” with an extended reflection on Exodus 24 and 29 (200–201). But we find this sharp bifurcation befuddling. Why must we choose between Christ’s death as either a sacrifice or an atonement or an enactment of a covenant? Why can’t the blood shed in Exodus 12 (Passover), Exodus 24 (the confirmation of the Old Covenant), and Exodus 29 (the consecration of the priests), together with the blood shed in Leviticus 16 (the Day of Atonement) all point forward to the same referent (Christ’s Pascha)? Sloan does not seem to have much of a category for compounding typological fulfillment. To be fair, he might retort: “To identify Jesus’s shed blood with sacrifice . . . fallaciously collapses comparable purposes (forgiveness) into identical means (sacrifice) and mistakenly collapses a bloody execution performed by non-priests in a profane space into sacrifice” (202). But we would simply respond, Take it up with the author of Hebrews, because that is precisely what he does over the course of some six chapters (i.e., Hebrews 4:14–10:18).

To say that Jesus’s death is not a sacrifice of atonement because it is performed in a profane space by non-priests is to require too much of texts that were intended to anticipate a greater reality. In Sloan’s argument, the shadow of the law dictates the way the substance of Christ’s sacrifice must take place. But this gets things backwards. Sloan emphasizes, “The death is nonsacrificial in nature, being a profane execution performed by nonpriests in common space” (206). This is a grievous error and an example of Sloan forcing the Synoptics’ presentation of Christ’s sacrifice to fit into his own theological formulation. Christ’s death is indeed sacrificial in nature. It is a sacrifice pointed to by the law and its prescriptions for sacrifice, but it is also infinitely and qualitatively different. Christ’s sacrificial death is the fulfillment of all other sacrifices. This sacrifice is put forward by God the Father (Rom. 3:25) in the heavenly holy place (Heb. 9:24), and it involves the blood of the Son of God (Heb. 9:12) who offered himself through the eternal Spirit (Heb. 9:14). It is not sacrificial only if you judge it according to the letter of the Mosaic Law. For the law in its sum and substance bears witness to this sacrifice of Christ.

Not only that, but Matthew’s account of the climactic tearing of the temple curtain from top to bottom immediately after the death of Jesus signifies that this sacrifice was infinitely more powerful and effective than any sacrifice ever offered in the temple (Matt. 27:51). The tearing of the curtain shows that the way to God has been opened and that the temple and its laws are no longer necessary. The claim that the death of Christ is nonsacrificial should be rejected outright. Sloan rightly notes that Christ’s blood restores the covenant, but it does so through the unparalleled and climactic sacrifice of atonement.

Conclusions: The Implications of a Paradigm Shift 

Sloan and others might insist that we are critiquing the author for the book that he should have written rather than the book that he did, in fact, write. The defense may come along these lines: “This is a book about the Synoptic Gospels. To demand that the author wrestle with his thesis’s relevance to John or Paul or Hebrews is unreasonable.” And, to be fair, there is surely room for focusing on one’s area of expertise. But while deciding to focus on the Synoptic Gospels may be well and good, that also means one’s theological conclusions should be as modest as the area of focus is narrow.

The moment one begins to extrapolate the theological consequences of (in this case) Christ’s teaching in the Synoptic Gospels to the whole Christian life—down to the particulars of what Christ’s death does or doesn’t mean, how Jews and Gentiles relate to one another in the church, and what Christ’s death and resurrection mean for the law of Moses—one can rightly be expected to consult the rest of the New Testament. Sloan may object that he hasn’t given himself (in this work) to the tasks of New Testament Theology or Systematic Theology, but that is precisely what he has done when he leaps from modest observations and recalibrations to paradigm-shifting proposals for what constitutes the gospel, the Christian life, and the church.

However much Sloan may wish to stay in the Synoptic-Gospel academic silo, he has placed a high burden on himself with his far-reaching conclusions. He cannot have his “specialized focus on just these three books” cake and eat his “fundamentally paradigm-shifting proposal” too. A thesis like this has to answer questions like, How is the meaning deepened, extended, and further revealed in the broader storyline of God’s redemption in Christ and in other passages? To be sure, Sloan makes a modest attempt at this kind of work (213–230)—but only selectively (for example, he avoids the New Testament examples that present Jesus’s work on the cross as an atonement). Sloan’s argument about continued law observance becomes a hermeneutical principle that requires him to reinterpret the rest of the New Testament. It also assumes a congruity with Pauline theology (231). This hermeneutic is evident in his (unconvincing) reinterpretation of Mark 7:19 and Acts 10 texts that Sloan insists do not set aside dietary restrictions. This also means that he needs to reinterpret Paul in passages like Romans 14 (for example) such that the apostle is addressing something besides Jewish food laws. It is one thing to say that the New Testament permits some ritual law observance in some form in the New Covenant. It is another thing altogether to say that the New Testament requires continued law observance. We suspect that many of Sloan’s interpretations will be sympathetic to E.P. Sanders, as that is the trajectory set in Jesus and the Law of Moses.

On a related note, Sloan may have put himself in the difficult position of leaning over his theological skis. For example, if Jewish followers of Christ are commanded to observe the law, what does this mean in a post-AD 70 situation in which the temple has been destroyed? Does it look like Rabbinic Judaism? Does it look like the way the Israelites were to observe the law in their years of exile? This would seem to be a strange conclusion in light of the fact that Christ, according to Sloan, has come to end exile and inaugurate the eschatological Jubilee. It would be an odd providence indeed if Israel’s “restoration” and the reestablishment of the law looked identical to Israel’s time of exile.

Many more questions could be asked. For instance, if Jews who follow Christ are required to observe the Mosaic law, does this also prohibit intermarriage with Gentiles? Or, again, is it even possible—in this schema—for Jews and Gentiles to be members of the same local church if “Christian obedience” means something altogether different for these two groups? Does the pastor have two sets of exhortations in his sermons: one for the Jew and another for the Gentile?

These kinds of concerns are anything but peripheral. In our judgment, the apparent difficulties they pose to Sloan’s ambitious theological conclusions would be enough to rule it out, even if it didn’t have the logical, theological, and exegetical shortcomings highlighted earlier. For these reasons, we consider Jesus and the Law of Moses to be a book full of many thought-provoking observations, but one that is ultimately undermined by its failure to take its own views to their logical conclusions and deal with their theological and real-life consequences.

The post How Should Christians Think about the Law of Moses? appeared first on 9Marks.

Shepherding God’s flock is one of the most exhilarating, enriching, and rewarding stewardships a man may undertake on this side of glory. Pastoral ministry is not, however, a safe enterprise. The office exposes a man to an array of enigmatic trials, haunting questions, deep disappointments, searing heartaches, and a daunting cluster of responsibilities essential to the care of souls. In all this, we bear the weight of our accountability to God for the oversight of a flock for which the Good Shepherd laid down his life.

We are not sufficient for such a calling. Thankfully, God is rich in mercy. Thankfully, Jesus has sent the Comforter to aid us in our frailty. And thankfully, for most pastors, God also provides a flesh-and-blood helper—a woman to walk beside us and to bear the burdens of ministry with us.

The pastor’s wife is a rare species with a peculiar calling. She is one flesh with the pastor. If he is worthy of his office, this means she is one flesh with a difficult man. If she is worthy of her calling, this means she has slit the throat of anything akin to a “normal life” on the altar of sacrifice to God. A faithful pastor’s wife seeks no pity in response to the sacrifices she makes. But she is owed the pastoral watch care of her husband as she navigates ministry expectations and determines the shape and scope of her service in the assembly that he shepherds.

How may a pastor love his wife by helping her set life-giving, and not life-draining, expectations for her ministry to God’s people?

1. See Straight on Your Wife’s Biblical Job Description

Scripture delineates specific qualifications for pastors and details their job description. No such text is found for a pastor’s wife. The implication is that Christ’s expectations of a pastor’s wife are identical to his will for every other woman in the assembly. Like them, she is called to grow in godly living (1 Tim. 2:9–10, 5:9–10), to excel as a faithful mother (Titus 2:3–5, Prov. 31:28), and to prosper as a suitable helper to her husband (Gen. 2:18–19; Prov. 31:28; 1 Tim. 3:4–5). Like them, she is also called to use the unique gifts with which Christ has sovereignly equipped her for the purpose of edifying the blood-bought body she serves as a member (1 Cor. 12:4–7, 18–20; Eph. 4:1–7).

At one end of the scale, Scripture does not assign to your wife the role of lead shepherdess of the women. Nor, at the other extreme, does Scripture position your wife as queen bee whose relationship to you insulates her from sacrificial ministry amidst the lowly worker bees. So, first and foremost, you must align your wife’s ministry with biblical expectations. The next step is to know your wife.

2. Shepherd Your Wife to Minister Within the Sphere of Her Gifting

Consider the relationship of your wife’s unique gifting by the Holy Spirit and the ministry she is presently fulfilling in the assembly. Is she currently weighed down with responsibilities that lie outside the pale of her gifting? If so, improper expectations are likely hindering her from running the race Christ intends for her to run in the service to his body.

If, for instance, your wife mostly dreads teaching the Bible or overseeing women’s ministries yet feels obligated to shoulder these duties, it is your responsibility as her pastor to free her from whatever expectations conscript her to fulfill them. If her gifting is behind-the-scenes service, free her to do that. Do not abandon her to languish under a burden of teaching or administrative oversight simply because someone expects her to serve in those roles. If your wife is not a teacher, not a leader, not a courageous recruiter, it is a mistake to lay such expectations upon her primarily because she is married to you.

In assessing how your wife’s spiritual gifting will best serve the ministry you lead, remember that she is not the previous pastor’s wife. She is not the pastor’s wife of the church in which you were raised. She is who she is by the grace and ordination of the church’s head. Loose her to take on ministry responsibilities that correspond to how the Spirit has equipped her. He did not situate her in the membership of your church haphazardly or mistakenly. He has a purpose for her that he expects her to discover and leverage for his glory and the edification of the covenant community (Eph. 4:15–16).

As you strive to harmonize your wife’s ministry with her spiritual gifting, you may encounter resistance. Your efforts may collide with the expectations that some church members have of her. How can you help her navigate these shoals?

3. Do Not Permit Church Members to Place Ministry Expectations on Your Wife

There are biblical expectations that every member of the church will rightly have for every other member of the church. But some members tend to press unnecessary expectations on pastors’ wives. It is your duty to shield your wife from pressures of this nature.

This caution may apply most directly to younger pastors who take the reins of smaller churches with established ministry patterns. It is common in such settings for an unwritten job description to meet the new pastor’s wife at the door. You must, of course, listen to the wisdom of church members as you seek to understand the assembly’s needs and practices. But it is vital you shield your wife from all ministry expectations that she sees more as pressure to please others and less as an invitation to serve that she truly welcomes. That said, it is also possible for such pressure to be self-imposed, thus a parallel admonition is in order.

4. Do Not Abandon Your Wife to Set Ministry Expectations for Herself

A pastor can passively stand aside, leaving his wife to determine ministry expectations on her own because he is “so busy.” But the Spirit’s call to know and love your wife includes shepherding her toward ministry involvement that interfaces with her gifting and your need for her support as a husband-pastor.

It also involves helping her determine proper load management. She will take on tasks she does not relish, but do not stand in the shadows while she is pressed to serve as a safety net for all manner of duties others care not to assume. It is your responsibility to ensure that the ministries she commits to do not wear her down. Loving her may even involve relieving her of certain responsibilities and shouldering any fallout from church members whose expectations of her are disillusioned.

A sweet spirit and a servant’s heart enable many pastors’ wives to shoulder tremendous pressures with stoic resolve. But it is another matter when pastors’ wives are pressured to perform duties they are ill-equipped to handle, under expectations they could not possibly satisfy. When your wife is weighed down by expectations, the inevitable consequence is deep-seated frustration and spiritual fatigue. These, in turn, invariably diminish her effectiveness as a wife and mother, fueling her sense of inadequacy and failure. It also tends to diminish her husband’s capacities to pastor, which harms the very church she is struggling so hard to serve. Her husband-pastor must protect her from falling into such a downward spiral.

5. As a Couple, Keep Your Eyes Fixed on Eternity

Your wife’s job? She is a pastor’s wife, nothing more. She is a pastor’s wife, nothing less. As she learns to fulfill her high and noble calling, as she runs her race to enhance her husband’s effectiveness in ministry, as she pours out her life in service to her Lord, she will receive no accolades from the world and few, if any, from believers whose unfounded expectations she disappoints along the way. But as she honors her Maker’s will, faithfully employing her gifts for the advancement of the church for which Jesus died, she will come to sense God’s pleasure.

In the throes of her race, you must both look long. Remember that when she stands in eternity, the one speaking, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” will be no opinionated church member checking off a list of expectations. These priceless words will be spoken by her Lord. His assessment is all that will matter on that day. It is all that matters today. His desire for her is joyful fatigue in ministry, not joyless exhaustion. So lovingly lead her there, and do so with an eye fixed on the day when joyful fatigue will give way to pure joy.

The post Setting Realistic Expectations for Your Wife’s Ministry in the Church appeared first on 9Marks.

Have you discovered that it’s often difficult to know when a young person is ready to be baptized and partake of the Lord’s Supper? Granted, there are a variety of factors to consider for each individual, and faithful churches and Christians may disagree on how to approach this question. Regardless, I’d like to propose three questions and some related reflections for your church’s elders to consider as you examine younger baptismal candidates

1. Can This Young Person Count the Cost of a Life of Following Jesus?

Jesus makes it clear that before someone makes the public commitment to follow him, that person needs to know and embrace what a life of following Jesus will require from him (Luke 14:25–33). Just think of the temptations you’ve faced as a Christian and to which you’ve had to say no: love of money, sexual sin, idolatry, etc. There’s a cost to a lifetime of saying no to these things.

Remember, Jesus isn’t like the credit card company that sets up shop on a college campus trying to get students to sign on the dotted line without reading the fine print. No, Jesus forces potential converts to stare at the fine print before signing on (Luke 9:57–62)! We tend to think that there’s not much difference between the one who never claimed to follow Jesus and the one who claimed to follow Jesus but then later reneged. But the Lord tells us differently: “For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’” (Luke 14:28–30). In other words, don’t start what you can’t finish.

Jesus’s response to the crowds at the end of John 2 is also helpful in this regard, as there were “many” who “believed in his name when they saw the signs that he was doing” (John 2:23). A huge crowd says they want to follow Jesus! We might be tempted to go ahead and fill the baptismal tank, but Jesus does the opposite: “. . . [he] did not entrust himself to them, because he knew all people and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man” (vv. 24–25). Many in the crowd thought they wanted to follow Jesus, but he had reason to doubt that they “counted the cost.” So to return to the original question, Can this young person count the cost of a life of following Jesus?

2. Can This Young Person Fulfill the Responsibilities the New Testament Gives to Church Members?

The Lord’s Supper signifies that all the individual partakers are part of one body (1 Cor. 10:17), and being part of his body brings with it certain responsibilities (1 Cor. 12). And, significantly for this conversation, these responsibilities are “one-size-fits-all.” That is to say, these responsibilities pertain to all members. As far as the New Testament is concerned, there’s no “kid’s meal” version of church membership. Therefore, elders should clearly communicate the New Testament’s commands about church membership to all potential members to see if they are willing and able to fulfill these commands.

Some questions to consider: Will this person be able to deliberate over and affirm the decision to remove a fellow member on account of adultery? Less dramatic but more common, Would she be able to point out to a fellow member when she sees a pattern of sin? What about voting to dismiss the long-time pastor because he’s decided to deny justification by faith alone in Christ alone? If someone isn’t ready to carry out these biblically mandated responsibilities, then they’re not yet ready for membership. Can this young person fulfill these kinds of responsibilities?

3. Would (and Should) Our Church Excommunicate a Young Person if Necessary?

The worst-case scenario for any church member, regardless of age, is that he or she would fall into unrepentant sin. In such cases, the church must obey Jesus’s instructions for church discipline (Matt. 18:15–20). Thus, in the same way that a medical doctor shouldn’t take on a patient unless he’s willing to give her the news about her cancer, the church shouldn’t take in a member to whom they won’t give the news about her unrepentant sin (see 1 Cor. 5:5). If, out of love, you’re willing to give someone the Supper, then you must be willing, out of love, to withhold it. Ask yourself, Would our church practice church discipline on this particular young person?

Then related to this is a second question: Should our church practice excommunication on this young person? Every culture recognizes that there are certain processes and consequences to which minors shouldn’t be subjected—for the simple reason that they are not yet adults! It’s worth considering, then, whether the instant transformation of this young person’s relationships with the adult Christians in his life should be reserved for a time closer to adulthood (Matt. 18:17; 1 Cor. 5:9–13; 2 Thes. 3:14).

A Church Decision 

None of the above points would matter much if God had told us that each individual was supposed to be the final authority on their spiritual standing before him. If that were the case, when an elder met with someone for baptism and membership, the only question would be, Do you think you’re ready for this? But this is exactly what John the Baptist doesn’t do when he refuses to baptize the crowds who come out to him (Luke 3:7–17). It’s what Jesus doesn’t do in John 2 when he refuses to entrust himself to the crowd that “believes” in him (John 2:23–25). In short, the decision to publicly recognize someone as a Christian involves more than just that individual and the Lord. Matthew 18:15–20 makes it clear that it takes a church to “bind” and “loose.”

Moving Slow Is Better than Moving Fast 

I’ll close with two reasons why, when it comes to young people, moving slow is better than moving fast. First, there is an explicit warning against someone taking the Lord’s Supper when she shouldn’t (see 1 Cor. 11:29–30). Therefore, we need to be confident that those who come to the table will be able to come in a right manner.

Second, one’s righteous standing before the Lord is in no way based on baptism, the Lord’s Supper, or church membership—much like it isn’t based on any aspect of our obedience (Gal. 2:15–3:14). Our relationship with the Lord is built entirely on God’s saving work in Jesus Christ, which we receive through faith. So when wisdom requires, we can wait on baptizing a young person without fearing that we are putting them in spiritual danger, for we know that it’s God who justifies the ungodly (Rom. 4:5).

The post Is This Young Person Ready to Be Baptized? Clarifying Questions and Considerations for Churches appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

I will never forget the phone call from the chairman of the search committee informing me that the church had overwhelmingly voted to call me as their next senior pastor. I was excited, and the church was too. The future seemed bright.

Three years later, I received another unforgettable call while on vacation: a significant number of families within the church were demanding my removal.

I am now twelve years removed from the ill-fated business meeting that followed, and I can still recall nearly every detail. The line indelibly engrained into my psyche came from an older gentleman sitting center right, eight rows back, who stood to his feet and exclaimed, “Pastor, I don’t care what that book says, that’s not how we do things here!”

“That book” he referenced was the Bible I held open in my hand. And his declaration, affirmed by many others in the room, instantaneously changed my life forever. The church was more concerned for their traditions than God’s Word preached and practiced. Upon that revelation, I knew my ministry within this church was done.

Scars That Remain

In the years since, my wounds have mostly healed, though scars remain. Emotional scars, much like physical scars, have a way of marking us for a lifetime. They become perpetual reminders not only of the pain experienced but also of lessons learned. 

The days immediately following a termination or forced resignation are lonely. Feelings of failure, regret, and uncertainty are overwhelming. My pride was shattered, as were “my” plans for life and ministry. The Evil One tempted me to think of my situation as unique, yet sadly I continue to hear from many who share a similar story. Many of us are now brothers initiated into a fraternity we never requested to join.

Like anyone else, pastors can understand being terminated for justifiable reasons. However, when the sheep reject the shepherd for the truths he has taught, the pain goes deep. Initially I felt relief, like a giant weight had been lifted from my shoulders. The secret meetings, back-channel messages, and anonymous letters ceased. Yet, in my grief, I soon had to acknowledge that I lost more than a job; I lost the local church that the Lord had entrusted to my care. Regardless of who was at fault, this realization cut deeply. The body had been severed, leaving wounds that do not quickly heal.

It was difficult to resist the urge to immediately pursue a new pastorate. However, an immediate return to ministry would not have been fair to me, my family, or any future congregation. Instead, I set my pride aside, joined a healthy local church, and took a job outside of pastoral ministry. I decided it would be better to decline preaching opportunities and forego the interview process than to expose my wounds for all to see.

I wrestled with whether the reward was worth the cost, and I often wondered if I would ever return to pastoral ministry. As days turned into months, and months turned into years, I faced the growing possibility that a return to full-time pastoral ministry may not be the Lord’s plan for my life. This realization was devastating.

Finding My Identity in Christ 

Yet, by God’s grace, the Spirit began to open my eyes to the reality that, for far too long, my identity was found in my professional title, not in my being a Christian. Through the sanctifying lessons of this season, Christ convicted me of my sin. I could not faithfully follow him—much less lead others—if my identity as a pastor hindered my ability to trust him as my only hope in life and death. Over time and through many tears, he brought me to the point where I could honestly say that if I never pastored another church or preached another sermon, Christ is enough.

Waiting was difficult, but it was not without purpose. This season provided me the opportunity to experience ministry from a different perspective. I had time to examine the various ways I could, and should, have served the church better. Culpability is rarely one-sided in a broken relationship, and there was much to learn from even my strongest critics. Each of these realizations not only made me a better pastor, but most importantly, a more faithful follower of Christ.

A Question I Had to Answer 

In the days leading up to the ill-fated business meeting, I was tempted to compromise my teaching to keep my position. For the first time in my life, I had to truly grapple with the question of whom I would fear more, God or man. It wasn’t merely a theoretical question, but one that required practical obedience. Would I compromise my teaching and keep my position, or would I stand firm and find myself unemployed?

As I was brought face-to-face with my fears, I not only developed thicker skin, but the Lord also grew in me an unwavering commitment to expositional preaching and deep discipleship.

In hindsight, I wish I had been a better expositor, as well as a more seasoned pastor. The church that forced me out needed both. What I did provide, and for this I have no regrets, was consistent and faithful preaching of the gospel. I strove to make the point of the passage the point of the sermon and to direct my listeners to the hope found in Christ. I was (and still am) committed to the belief that sound doctrine must drive the methodology, missiology, and doxology of the local church. Whether it is how we receive members, how we fence the Lord’s Table, or how we determine which songs to sing, our theology must drive our decision making—not tradition or personal preference. We must preach Christ crucified. We must declare the whole counsel of God. We must care deeply about what “that book” says, because that’s all we have to say.

Lessons Learned 

This painful experience, along with my subsequent years in pastoral ministry, taught me never to assume every member of my church understands these foundational truths in the same way. A shared statement of faith, though extremely helpful, is not a guarantee that your entire congregation will always agree on doctrine, the ordinances, or church membership. Perhaps this assumption proved to be my biggest mistake.

The words we use may not be received or understood as we intend them to be. Therefore, when our members ask questions, we must patiently answer them and slow down if necessary. When doctrine appears to lead to division, hold fast to the truth, but also resist the urge to see congregants as your “adversaries.” God loves them in Jesus and so must you.

Looking to Christ 

Pastors will continue to face unjust criticism, people will reject our teaching, and sometimes those closest to us will betray us. Regardless, we must look to Christ. Jesus, in his suffering, never dismissed his opposition; rather, his love for them compelled him to go to the cross. Oh, may this same love compel us to love those whom he has called us to lead!

James tells us that the testing of our faith “produces steadfastness” and that the full effect of steadfastness is that we might be “perfect and complete, lacking in nothing” (Jas. 1:3–4). While I am far from perfect, the lessons learned through my termination did produce in me steadfastness, a steadfastness that continues to have its effect as the Lord reminds me each day that in Christ I have all I need. By God’s grace, I am now able to look back upon this trial with joy. My scars not only serve to remind me of lessons learned, but of the faithfulness of God and the hope I have in Christ.

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Vermon Pierre, Dearly Beloved: How God’s Love for His Church Deepens Our Love for Each Other. Moody Publishers, 2024. 176 pages.

Jonathan Edwards writes, “Love to God, love to Christ, and love to saints for God and Christ’s sake, and the enjoyment of the fruits of God’s love in holy communion with God, Christ, and holy persons—this is what [Christians] have a relish for; and such is their renewed nature.”

According to Edwards, love to God and Christ marks the Christian’s “renewed nature,” but Christian love is not only vertical. It’s also horizontal, for love is integral to the corporate identity of God’s people. We become children in God’s household by the free and infinite love of the Father given through the Son and applied by the Spirit. Christian community, then, is not ultimately built upon shared affinity but upon the Triune love of God.

As such, Vermon Pierre’s thesis in Dearly Beloved is absolutely right: “If we are united to God most especially in love, so also we are united to one another in love. God’s love for us in Christ is the only force strong enough to bring us together to God. And God’s love in Christ is the only force strong enough to keep us together with God as one community in Christ” (11).

So how does the Bible describe the love of God’s people for one another? After all, if we want our church members to be united in a polarizing world, we need a love that’s both different and compelling.

The Most Powerful Expression of Love 

According to Pierre, the Bible emphasizes marital love as the kind of love that should be displayed in a local church (12, 14). This is the book’s main thread, and it’s woven throughout. Since God’s love for us is compared to the love of a husband for his wife, we ought to show the same kind of (marital) love to one another in the church. Pierre uses the word “beloved” to describe this marital love of God.

Pierre reminds us that God’s covenant with Israel was sustained by his exclusive love for them, much like a husband’s love for his wife. More importantly, the new covenant inaugurated by Jesus at the cross broadens God’s loving commitment to include the Gentiles. So how does God’s love affect his people—both Jew and Gentile—today? “[God’s] love, and specifically the beloved love of God, unites people to God and unites them to one another. Because we are beloved to God, we become beloved to one another. And as we are beloved to one another, we will be united to one another” (36–37).

After focusing on how we are “beloved” in Part 1, Pierre explores in Part 2 how we are to live “beloved” toward one another in a variety of areas: initiative, words, delight, intimacy, presence, commitment, passion, conflict, and perseverance.

Commendations 

Pierre makes God’s love for his people come alive. God really loves them, and he’s committed to them despite their wandering and betrayals. And Pierre rightly points out that we ought to love one another despite our differences in personalities, cultures, and backgrounds. As God offers us grace, Pierre encourages us to “jump on the chance to be favorable and do good to each other, knowing such chances steadily chip away at whatever concrete blocks of conflict are dragging down our relationships” (149).

One practical example of how our love for one another should show itself is in the way we speak to one another. “Instead of the trends of harmful, divisive words, we want to speak words that commit us to each other, to nurture and sustain each other. . . . In Jesus, we see people as Jesus does, which leads us to speak to people as Jesus does” (63). We need this exhortation injected into our own churches today.

Cautions 

Despite the book’s strengths, it seems that Pierre has wrongly emphasized God’s marital love as the primary analogy for our love for one another. The logic of the book goes like this: Christ loves the church like a husband loves his wife. Therefore, we should imitate Christ by showing that same kind of love to fellow church members. We love one another, Pierre says, “not only out of [God’s] familial love; we love one another also out of his spousal, beloved love” (40). This is the “strongest way to love one another” (39).Here is Pierre’s full statement: “To be united together like the Bible calls us to, we must love one another. And the strongest way for us to love one another is to see and treat others as being beloved to us” (39). A couple additional examples of similar statements by Pierre: “The same marital love that bound us to the Lord binds us to one another and fuels our ability to be united together as one people, as His beloved bride” (41); “For long one another, we have available to us, necessary to us, the most passionate, fervent, committed dimension of God’s love–His marital, ‘beloved’ love” (43). 

Most Christians would likely agree that marital love best pictures God’s love for the church. But the Bible rarely speaks of our love and unity for one another using the analogy of a marital relationship. Instead, it emphasizes other relational themes, namely, friendship and family. For example, the new covenant love that Jesus establishes and then commands of his disciples is likened to the love that friends have for each other (John 15:12–15). Our Lord himself said, “No one has greater love than this: to lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13, emphasis added).

The New Testament is also brimming with commands to love one another as brothers and sisters, which is how Paul commonly addresses the readers of his letters (e.g. Rom. 1:13; 1 Cor. 1:10). Herman Bavinck notes that “fraternal love” is the “hallmark and proof that believers are Jesus’s disciples.”Bavinck says that Christians “are bound to each other through intimate love, like children of one family. . . That fraternal love is therefore also the hallmark and proof that believers are Jesus’s disciples. . . . It is proof that we have passed from death into life, obligating us to give our life for the brothers and sisters, a love that is rooted in God’s love for us.” Herman Bavinck, Reformed Ethics, Vol. 2 (Baker Academic: 2021), 447–448.

More broadly, we should be careful about elevating certain analogies of God’s love over others. Nowhere does the Bible teach that God’s spousal love triumphs over his love as a father, a brother, a friend, a Savior, etc. Nor should different pictures of God’s love be pitted against each other. Rather, we should be in awe that God loves—yes, loves—sinners like us and that this love can be expressed in many different ways.

A Word for Pastors 

Pastors, this is yet another reason to preach from various parts of Scripture, as it allows your members to see God’s love in different ways. Hosea compares God’s love for his covenant people to a faithful husband who compassionately pursues an unfaithful wife. Revelation teaches that God loves his people like a King who defeats evil in order to bring them back into his kingdom. Isaiah displays God’s love as redeeming and holy.

We don’t need to draw a one-to-one comparison between God’s love and ours. After all, we don’t and can’t love others in precisely the same way that Christ loves us. He alone is our Redeemer and King. Instead, we should preach the multi-faceted and incomparable nature of God’s love and then urge people to respond by loving him and loving others.

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Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

Following Jesus means suffering, and this is especially the case if you’re a pastor. Satan wages war against Christ’s church, unbelievers slander and persecute the godly, and the godly sin against each other. And the pastor? Well, he is in unique proximity and leading amid all this action. Suffering is part of the job. But pastoral ministry rarely ends in one dramatic act of suffering. Instead, we are faced with the uncomfortable question: are we ready for the quiet, often unseen, and slow death that comes from shepherding the sheep for whom Christ died?

In my experience, the temptation to bail out of ministry hasn’t come from one major trial that seemed impossible to overcome. Instead, it’s been the feeling of death by a thousand cuts that threatens my joy in this work. Are you like me in this, brother pastor? Does the almost imperceptible, unrelenting, and incremental suffering make you wonder, Is this worth it? Wouldn’t a simple nine-to-five job be better?

Trials that Make Up a Slow Death 

Let me share just a few examples of the kinds of trials that require long-suffering on the part of shepherds.

A Shepherd’s Kindness May Be Taken for Granted 

Sheep can take for granted a shepherd’s patience and grace. It’s the pastor’s job to bear with their faults and sins, even when they sin against him. The pastor knows he must love and forgive, but that responsibility isn’t always acknowledged going the other way. If the shepherd has weaknesses or sins against the sheep, he doesn’t always receive the same grace or forgiveness. Instead, the sheep run away.

A Shepherd’s Commitment May Not Be Reciprocated 

The shepherd gives his life for the good of the sheep, but the sheep don’t seem to care. We pour ourselves out all week meeting with people, praying for them, and crafting the best sermon we can for their good. Our families may even have to regularly make sacrifices so that we can serve the church. As a shepherd, you’re always on call. Yet many sheep seem to think that attending church once or twice a month is sufficient. The church simply falls way down on the priority list.

A Shepherd’s Responsibilities May Make Him Susceptible 

Sometimes, the closer the sheep are to the shepherd, the more likely the shepherd is to get bitten. That’s how sin and brokenness work; the people who are given the most care and attention often have the strongest complaints. Pastors are pulled away from the study, and from other sheep, to give many hours to the weaker sheep, the ones who feel like you’re not doing enough.

A Shepherd’s Counsel May Be Ignored 

Often, sheep don’t let the shepherds care for them. A pastoral meeting can go really well, and you’re encouraged by the initial response. But sheep end up doing what they want to do. In fact, they often only show up to get advice after they’ve reached their own conclusion. You would love to guide them with Scripture, but they’re only coming to you as a formality. They might not admit it or realize it, but many sheep are basically their own shepherd. It leaves you feeling used or useless, and it breaks your heart for them.

A Shepherd’s Oversight May Be Rejected 

Sheep often find their own shepherd somewhere else. It’s not really God’s Word they’re wanting to hear. No, they’re looking for confirmation regarding their own decisions or affirmation regarding their own concerns. So rather than listening to you, their pastor, who knows them, sees them, and will give an account to God for them, they turn to the preacher or podcaster online, or someone else with even less credibility, and they turn against you in the process. It grieves us not because our (relative) authority is threatened, but because pastoral care is inherently relational, and we’re the ones who will be held accountable for their souls (Heb. 13:17).

Any pastor could easily come up with additional scenarios because there’s one consistent pain point: you’re committed to the good of the sheep, but they’re often not committed to you. You’ll deal with conflict and stay put. They’ll leave. Of course, that doesn’t mean we never give them reason to leave. We sin against our people in a variety of ways, and some of the cuts we receive come as a consequence of our own mistakes. But by and large, even the most faithful shepherds will bear some scars given to them by those they serve.

How to Die a Slow Death Well 

If the pastor is called to lay down his life for the sheep, then scenarios like the ones above cannot be completely avoided. No matter how healthy the church is, all sheep carry the weakness of their own sin; they’re vulnerable to the dangers of this world; and they’re prone both to bite and to wander. How, then, can a pastor die a slow death well?

First, we need to remember whom we’re ultimately serving. If we make our work all about the sheep or all about ourselves, then we’re likely going to be miserable in suffering. But we must remember: we’re under-shepherds of Christ. They’re his sheep. He died for them to bring glory to himself. So he must increase and we must decrease (John 3:30). I have found much peace by simply telling myself, “It’s not about me.”

Second, it’s good to die. It’s part of following Christ. Jesus said, “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross and follow me” (Matt. 16:24). In dying for the good of others, God is making me more like his Son. And it’s not in vain, for Jesus goes on to say that those who lose their life for him will ultimately “find it,” and his Father will “reward” them on the last day (vv. 25, 27).

Paul’s letters reveal a pastor who understood Jesus’s words and applied them to the struggles of gospel ministry. Paul likened his ministry to a woman in labor until Christ was formed in the church (Gal. 4:19). And he said what every pastor dying a slow death well can say: “For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’s sake, so that Jesus’s life may also be displayed in our mortal flesh. So then, death is at work in us, but life in you” (2 Cor. 4:11–12). Likewise, at the end of his ministry, he could say,

For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time for my departure is close. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. There is reserved for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give me on that day, and not only to me, but to all those who have loved his appearing. (2 Tim. 4:6–8)

Brother, if you feel like your suffering goes unseen by many of your sheep, rest assured that it doesn’t go unnoticed by the Chief Shepherd. If we can die to ourselves for the sake of Christ, even if it’s by a thousand cuts, then we can be sure our life of service was worth it.

The post The Art of Dying a Slow Death Well: Long-Suffering in Pastoral Ministry appeared first on 9Marks.

If you click on a job posting at ziprecruiter.com, you’ll find the job overview, the specific responsibilities, and the required qualifications. This information clarifies what the job entails. But when it comes to the work of a pastor, it’s Scripture that lays out the job.See John 21:15–18; Acts 20:28; Col. 1:28–29; 2 Tim. 4:1–2; 1 Pet. 5:1–3. 

If you’re a pastor, your work can be summed up in one biblical word: shepherding (Acts 20:28; 1 Pet. 5:1–3). And, I would argue, shepherding includes four main responsibilities: leading the flock, feeding the flock, protecting the flock, and caring for the flock. I hope this short article helps you, pastor, to evaluate how you’re doing in each of these areas.

Leading the Flock 

Sheep need shepherds to lead them precisely because they are prone to wander. Pastor, you have the privilege and responsibility to lead the flock (1 Thes. 5:12–13), and the primary way you lead is through the public ministry of the Word. You speak Christ’s words to the flock, guiding and directing them as they follow him. Without your leadership, the church may be ill-equipped to understand and fulfill its mission.

For example, your members may affirm that the church’s mission is to make disciples but remain unsure about how to carry it out. They may reduce the mission to inviting friends to church or doing mercy ministry in their city. But as you patiently and intentionally instruct them through the Word, you can guide and equip them to fulfill the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18–20).

Feeding the Flock 

Sheep need to be fed, which is also the pastor’s job (John 21:15–17). The primary way a shepherd feeds is through his teaching and preaching God’s Word. In feeding from God’s Word, God’s people remember and are reinforced in truths such as that they are loved by Christ, forgiven of all their sins, commanded to live according to his precepts, helped by his Spirit to do so, and promised life in the world to come.

Pastors may neglect their duty to feed in at least two ways: by refusing to feed or by replacing the healthy food the sheep need with something that lacks substance. Assuming you’re not outright refusing to feed your flock (which would look like a pastoral strike!), consider the latter kind of neglect.

Substituting Christ with anything—moralism, life-coaching, political agendas—is a failure on the shepherd’s part and detrimental to the flock. It’s worse than giving your children Cheetos and Skittles as their main meal for the day. Your church needs heavenly food. That is, they need Christ himself, the bread of life, who alone nourishes and satisfies the soul (John 6:35). So as you preach and teach Christ from the Scriptures, you invite the flock to feast on him. He is sweeter than honey and more satisfying than a medium-rare steak. Week after week, you have the privilege of helping your church taste and see that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8).

Protecting the Flock 

Sheep are defenseless and vulnerable. They are not predators but prey. Therefore, they need shepherds to protect them, particularly when it comes to false teachers who prey on the flock (Acts 20:29; Eph. 4:14). These teachers make lies sound like truth; they make slavery look like freedom; they offer poison as candy. They present the pathway to destruction as if it’s the road to a full life. And your church members are susceptible to these forms of deception.

Christ doesn’t want any of his blood-bought sheep to be deceived or devoured.  That’s why your head must remain on a swivel and your shepherd’s staff must remain at hand. Your weapon for protection is Scripture, and the primary way you wield it is through upholding sound doctrine. As you rightly divide the Word, you expose deception, refute heresies, and present the pure gospel. This helps protect the flock from being captured by empty philosophies (Col. 2:8–9).

Caring for the Flock 

Sheep require oversight and care. The Chief Shepherd knows and cares for his flock (John 10:14–15), and he commands you to follow his example (1 Pet. 5:1–3). Do you know your church members’ names? Are you aware of ways to pray for them? Do you have a general sense of how they’re doing, either through personal interactions or through updates from another elder?

Much of your pastoral work is done publicly, but caring for the flock often occurs through personal interactions behind the scenes—after services, in your office, in their homes, or at hospitals. Though less visible, this work is no less valuable. Members of your church are vulnerable to despair, discouragement, and doubts, and you can speak directly to their needs by applying the gospel and strengthening their faith (Acts 20:20; Rom. 15:13). You can also be present to rejoice with them during their happiest moments, like the birth of a child. Or you can be there to mourn with them during their darkest hours, as when they receive a devastating diagnosis or experience the loss of a loved one. Through this kind of pastoral care, weary souls are renewed and the church tangibly experiences the care of the Chief Shepherd.

Conclusion 

Pastors, Christ has called you to devote yourselves to the care of souls, ministering the Word in all your duties.Martin Bucer, Concerning the True Care of Souls, trans. Peter Beale (Banner of Truth, 2009), 33. Your job responsibilities are weighty and worthy of the utmost diligence. On that final day, when Christ the Chief Shepherd evaluates your work, what will he say? By God’s grace, may he commend your faithful labors and say, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matt. 25:21).

The post Pastor’s Job Description: Four Essential Responsibilities of a Shepherd appeared first on 9Marks.

How should Christians treat family members who have been excommunicated from their local church? The Bible clearly instructs believers to avoid close fellowship with those under church discipline (Matt. 18:17; 1 Cor. 5:9–11; Titus 3:10; Rom. 16:17; 2 John 10). However, God has also commanded us to carry out certain responsibilities in our family relationships (Eph. 5:25–33; 6:2), even in relationships with unbelieving family members (1 Pet. 3:1–2; 1 Cor. 7:12–16). These situations can create a tension: How can Christians affirm the church’s decision regarding excommunication while still fulfilling their duties as spouses, parents, or children?

In short, Christians must continue to fulfill their God-given family responsibilities while also honoring (as best as possible) the divinely intended consequences of church discipline. To demonstrate this point, I will briefly summarize the aims of church discipline, examine the nature of the family in comparison to the church, and then provide examples of how this issue has been addressed historically by Reformed churches. I will close by suggesting some practical ways for Christians to fulfill both their family obligations and their responsibilities as church members toward those who are under church discipline.

The Aims of Church Discipline 

Jesus outlined the process of church discipline in Matthew 18:15–17, and Paul gives similar instructions in 1 Corinthians 5 regarding the church’s responsibility toward an unrepentant member. The church is also called to deal with false teachers in a similar manner (Titus 3:10; Rom. 16:17; 2 John 10).For a brief and helpful treatment of the practice, see “A Step-by-step Primer for Church Discipline,” by Geoff Chang. https://www.9marks.org/article/a-step-by-step-primer-for-church-discipline/. For a more thorough treatment, see Jonathan Leeman, Church Discipline: How the Church Protects the Name of Jesus (Crossway, 2012). From these passages, we can deduce five aims of church discipline:

1. Declaration: The church declares that the unrepentant sinner is behaving like an unbeliever (Matt. 18:17).

2. Purification: Discipline protects the church from being corrupted by sin, which, as a consequence, protects every member from confusion regarding what behaviors God disapproves of (1 Cor. 5:6–7, 13).

3. Alienation: The sinner is excluded from the fellowship and safety of the church community (1 Cor. 5:11).

4. Rejection: False teachers must be rejected and avoided so that they do not spread error (Titus 3:10; Rom. 16:17; 2 John 10).

5. Motivation: The sinner’s exclusion from the church is intended to lead him to repentance (1 Cor. 5:5; 1 Tim. 1:20).

The family members of those under church discipline are called to respect these aims, even as they continue to fulfill their obligations at home.

Family and Church as Separate Institutions 

To understand why Christians should fulfill family responsibilities toward those who are excommunicated, we need to recognize that the family and the church are separate institutions, each established by God with its own respective purposes and attending duties. The church is a special grace institution comprised only of those whom God has redeemed through faith in Christ. The family, on the other hand, is a common grace institution established before the fall (Gen. 2:18–24), and it is designed to be a source of stability and love for all people. And because the institution of family is rooted in creation and common grace, its duties are not dependent on someone’s spiritual standing before God. Family duties are therefore binding even when a family member has been excommunicated from the church.

Paul uses similar reasoning when addressing marriages between believers and unbelievers. A Christian husband, for example, is not freed from his marital duties if his wife is an unbeliever. Instead, he is to remain married, for his marital duties serve as a sanctifying influence (1 Cor. 7:12–16). By extension, when a spouse is excommunicated, the marriage covenant remains intact. The believing spouse must fulfill his marital responsibilities, even as he acknowledges that the other is living as an unbeliever. Neglecting family responsibilities under the guise of church discipline would undermine God’s common grace design for the family (see also 1 Tim. 5:8). In turn, the church’s disciplinary action does not dissolve relationships or responsibilities within the family.

Historical Perspectives 

Recognizing the continuing obligation of family duties in cases of excommunication has been the predominant view in church history, particularly in the Reformed tradition.Some Mennonite traditions from the sixteenth century differed from the predominant Reformed position. For instance, Menno Simons, the founder of the Mennonites, taught his followers that even spouses and children should avoid those who had been excommunicated (this was called “the ban,” or shunning). Even within Mennonite traditions, however, there were more moderate views (like the Waterlander Mennonites) that encouraged marital and family relationships to continue in a normal manner. For a survey of the early representations of this tradition, see Joe L. Coker, “‘Cast Out From Among the Saints’: Church Discipline Among Anabaptists and English Separatists in Holland, 1590-1620,” Reformation 11, 1 (2006). Arguing from the limited grounds for divorce given by Jesus in Matthew 19:9, English separatist John Smyth states simply, “excommunication does not dissolve the [marriage] union.”Ibid., 20. Smyth’s words come from his “Defense of de Ries’s Confession,” cited in James Robert Coggins, John Smyth’s Congregation: English Separatism, Mennonite Influence, and the Elect Nation (Waterloo, Ontario: Herald Press, 1991), 56. If it does not dissolve the union, then it cannot alter marital responsibilities. English Puritan William Ames agrees that avoiding the excommunicated “refers not to moral and other necessary duties.”William Ames, The Marrow of Theology, trans. John Dykstra Eusden, Reprint (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 1997), 201. Family duties commanded by God would certainly qualify as moral and necessary. John Owen also clarifies, “No duties arising from or belonging unto any of these [family] relations are released, or the obligation unto them weakened, by excommunication. Husbands may not hereon forsake their wives . . . nor wives their husbands.”John Owen, The Church & The Bible, The Works of John Owen 16 (Edinburgh, Scotland, Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1995), 180. Likewise, John Gill asserts that “excommunication does not . . . break in upon the natural and civil relations between a man and wife, parents.”John Gill, A Body of Practical Divinity (Christian Classics Ethereal Library, n.d.), 313. 
Jonathan Edwards is also clear on this point. “Jonathan Edwards, The Works of Jonathan Edwards, Volume 2, 2nd ed (Edinburgh, Scotland, Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1974), 120.” Similar examples could be cited from the nineteenth century.Nineteenth-century American Baptist, Eleazer Savage, advocates excluding and shunning those who have been excommunicated, yet he carefully clarifies that Jesus’s command not to eat with such persons does not “signify the avoidance of common family meals, which might be quite as impossible, in point of fact, as inconsistent with certain scriptural relations and duties.” Eleazer Savage, “Manual of Church Discipline (1863),” in Polity: Biblical Arguments on How to Conduct Church Life, ed. Mark Dever (Washington, D.C.: Center for Church Reform, 2001), 509.

This brief survey represents a historical consensus in Reformed thought: family obligations remain binding even when a relative has been removed from the church.

Applying Discipline Within the Family 

Using the five aims of church discipline identified above, I will provide some brief guidance for practical application. Granted, these are complicated situations, and I do not intend to establish absolute rules for every case. If you find yourself in such a situation, seek pastoral counsel to help you think through the particulars of your situation.

Declaration — Acknowledge the church’s judgment and communicate clearly to your loved one that they are living as an unbeliever (1 John 2:3–4). You should also take providential opportunities to speak with concern and evangelistic clarity (Jas. 5:19–20). At the same time, though, excommunication shouldn’t be all you talk about. In every conversation, you should season your words with love (Eph. 4:15) and “give grace” (Eph. 4:29). Your love for your family member should always be evident and demonstrable even in these difficult circumstances.

1. Purification — Believing family members must not approve of or participate in the sin of a disciplined relative. Therefore, avoid situations that compromise your witness or go against your conscience (Eph. 5:3–4; 1 Thes. 5:22). For example, you might celebrate the birthday of a homosexual family member, but you should refuse an invitation to attend that individual’s “wedding.” In some cases, parents may need to limit an excommunicated adult child’s presence in the home if it influences or endangers younger siblings.

2. Alienation — In some situations, it may be wise to limit the frequency of certain social activities to reinforce your concern and the seriousness of the sin. Your decision on this matter, and how you carry it out, will likely depend on whether you’re dealing with a spouse or some other relative.

3. Rejection — If the excommunicated person is a false teacher, you should be absolutely clear on why you reject their errors (Rom. 16:17; 2 John 10). Show them from Scripture where their error lies and plead with them to believe the truth.

4. Motivation — Avoid shielding loved ones from the consequences of their sin, which can prevent them from feeling the need to repent. Posting bail if a son gets arrested is probably more acceptable than spending tens of thousands of dollars on lawyers to clear him of a crime you know he has committed. We should remember that repentance is the goal, not relief from all earthly consequences (Eccl. 8:11). Like the prodigal son, the person needs to feel the consequences of his sin deeply before he knows to repent (Luke 15:13–17).

Honoring both sets of obligations — family and church — to an excommunicated family member can be done without contradiction, though it requires wisdom and courage. Again, it is highly recommended that you seek pastoral guidance to help you think through your specific situation.

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Editor’s Note: This article is taken from Church Matters, the 9Marks journal for pastors, in the issue titled “The Pastor and Suffering.”

J.L. Thompson graduated from the Pastors’ College in 1880 and took a pastorate in Esher, southwest of London. But within a few years, he found himself struggling. He writes,

I was completely broken down in health, not able to put a couple of thoughts together, and hadn’t preached for months. Thinking, in my depressed state, that I should never be able to take a charge again, I applied for an insurance claim, to which I considered myself to be entitled. I was examined by the physician, who cheerily told me that six months of complete rest at the seaside would restore me to health.

Thompson decided to write to his former pastor and college president to see if he knew of any seaside homes that he might apply to. He wrote back,

Dear Mr. Thompson,—I don’t know of any Ministers’ Rest. Mr. Brown’s House at Herne Bay is more general. I am sorry you suffer from depression, for I know how heavy an affliction it is. Get to the seaside as soon as you can, and I will find you £5 towards the expense. The Lord bless you!—Yours heartily, C. H. Spurgeon.C. H. Spurgeon, The Sword and the Trowel: A Record of Combat with Sin & Labour for the Lord. (London: Passmore & Alabaster, 1892), 378-379.

With Spurgeon’s encouragement and support, Thompson was able to take six months off for rest, saving not only his ministry but his life.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, the most famous preacher of the Victorian era, understood the discouragement and depression that accompany pastoral ministry. Spurgeon had a remarkably fruitful ministry. Thousands were converted under his preaching; his sermons were being sold weekly by the thousands; church ministries were growing. It would be easy to think that Spurgeon was constantly encouraged and joyful.

But when you read his letters and listen to his sermons, you realize that Spurgeon was often deeply discouraged. He bore the “daily pressure of anxiety” (2 Cor. 11:28) for his many church members, for the orphanage, for the pastor’s college, and for much else. As a result, he often fell into a dark “melancholy,” what some today might call depression.

In his classic Lectures to My Students, Spurgeon gave a lecture on pastoral discouragement (“The Minister’s Fainting Fits”). Whether you call it discouragement, depression, melancholy, or “fainting fits,” Spurgeon’s point is that this experience of spiritual and emotional darkness is a part of pastoral ministry. It’s not something unusual but rather something to be expected. And as Spurgeon read church history, he saw that many other pastors had experienced something similar. From Martin Luther to John Calvin, from David Brainerd to Adoniram Judson, and to many others today, many of God’s servants have had to walk through dark valleys. But there in that darkness, they encountered God’s faithfulness.

Here are four reasons from Spurgeon why pastors should expect to encounter pastoral discouragement:

1. Because We Are Human

The first reason we should expect to be discouraged in the pastorate is that we are mere men.

Is it not first that they are men? Being men, they are compassed with infirmity, and heirs of sorrow. Even under the economy of redemption it is most clear that we are to endure infirmities, otherwise there were no need of the promised Spirit to help us in them. It is of need be that we are sometimes in heaviness.C. H. Spurgeon, Lectures to My Students: Addresses Delivered to the Students of the Pastor’s College. Vol. 1. (Passmore & Alabaster, 1875), 168.

This is easy to forget. As those who regularly handle the things of God, we can forget that we are still mere men. We have the privilege of preaching, advising, counseling, and leading, and sometimes we can begin to feel that we are somehow above our people. But these times of discouragement come to humble us, to remind us that we are mere men who live in a fallen world.

Part of being human means living in a fallen body. So often our lowness, or depression, can come as a result of health challenges. Spurgeon writes,

Most of us are in some way or other unsound physically. Here and there we meet with an old man who could not remember that ever he was laid aside for a day; but the great mass of us labor under some form or other of infirmity.Ibid.

Spurgeon was frequently sick due to issues with his kidneys. Later in life he developed gout, which afflicted his feet and joints. These illnesses were extremely painful, and because they were compounded by overwork, Spurgeon was sick for weeks at a time. Often, the physical illnesses led to deep discouragement.

But Spurgeon also had a category for mental illness.

As to mental maladies, is any man altogether sane? Are we not all a little off the balance? Some minds appear to have a gloomy tinge essential to their very individuality . . .Ibid., 168–169.

Some people are more prone to depression and discouragement than others. Spurgeon was naturally very optimistic, but once, when he was 22, he was preaching to a large crowd of about 10,000, and some troublemakers yelled “Fire!” which led to a stampede. Seven people died from being trampled, and many more were injured. Spurgeon was never the same after that event. He was traumatized by it and, for the rest of his life, he would occasionally sink into depression.

And yet, Spurgeon believed that the Lord could use even these kinds of weaknesses to make us better pastors.

These infirmities may be no detriment to a man’s career of special usefulness; they may even have been imposed upon him by divine wisdom as necessary qualifications for his peculiar course of service.Ibid., 169.

Pastor, your weaknesses and discouragement do not inherently disqualify you. Rather, they highlight God’s grace as you persevere. Spurgeon’s people would watch as their pastor persevered and preached through pain, and that helped them persevere, too. Many pastors have battled serious discouragement, and yet the Lord has used that struggle to make them into skillful and tender counselors.

Good men are promised tribulation in this world, and ministers may expect a larger share than others, that they may learn sympathy with the Lord’s suffering people, and so may be fitting shepherds of an ailing flock.Ibid., 168.

God could have sent angels to be pastors. But angels are unable to suffer like us. They would never understand our pain. Instead, he sent frail humans like us. Why? Because our frailty makes us ready to show compassion to fellow sufferers. Pastoral discouragement allows us to identify with our people.

2. Because of the Weighty Nature of Our Work

If pastoral ministry were simply reading books, preaching sermons, and attending meetings, there would be no reason to be discouraged. But when we consider the weighty calling of shepherding souls, of leading God’s people, of preaching to the lost, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed.

Who can bear the weight of souls without sometimes sinking to the dust? Passionate longings after men’s conversion consume the soul with anxiety and disappointment. To see the hopeful turn aside, the godly grow cold, professors abusing their privileges, and sinners waxing more bold in sin—are not these sights enough to crush us to the earth?Ibid., 170.

As a pastor, dealing with sin is discouraging. You preach and you counsel, but unless the Spirit brings repentance, you are helpless. So you pray, and teach, and wait for God to move. This is a burden, a daily anxiety we feel for the sake of our people.

Sometimes the more earnest you are about your work as a pastor, the more liable you are to be discouraged as you see how feeble and fruitless your efforts can be. Not only that, but pastoral ministry feels endless. Until we bury people, the work of shepherding them to the Celestial City will be ongoing, and we will be anxious for their souls.

Ours is more than mental work — it is heart work, the labor of our inmost soul. How often, on Lord’s-day evenings, do we feel as if life were completely washed out of us! After pouring out our souls over our congregations, we feel like empty earthen pitchers which a child might break.Ibid. 

Pastoral ministry is different from being an engineer or an accountant. You can compartmentalize your life from your work in those vocations. But as pastors we have to engage our hearts, our minds, and our bodies in the work. We have to be present with our people and give of ourselves to them. The ongoing toll of this will wear anyone out.

3. Because Leadership Can Be Lonely

The more a pastor gives himself to the things of the Lord, the more likely he is to find himself alone. Spurgeon describes his experience:

A minister fully equipped for his work, will usually be a spirit by himself, above, beyond, and apart from others. The most loving of his people cannot enter into his peculiar thoughts, cares, and temptations. Men of God who rise above their fellows into nearer communion with heavenly things, in their weaker moments feel the lack of human sympathy.Ibid., 170-171.

As those who have been set apart by the congregation to prayer and the ministry of the Word, pastors can find themselves isolated. You want to cultivate godliness in your people, but this takes time, and it’s hard to be patient. Additionally, as those who have authority, your people will probably treat you differently. People feel like they can’t act normally around you. As much as you try to relate to them, they will still view you as their pastor.

So, Spurgeon advises, make sure you build fellowship with other like-minded pastors.

This loneliness, which if I mistake not is felt by many of my brethren, is a fertile source of depression; and our ministers’ fraternal meeting, and the cultivation of holy intercourse with kindred minds will with God’s blessing, help us greatly to escape the snare.Ibid., 171.

Spurgeon was intentional about spending time with other pastors. His day off was Wednesday, and he would often spend the day with another pastor. And he was part of several pastoral fellowships around London. This was not simply because Spurgeon was an extrovert; this was about persevering in the ministry.

4. Because of the Inactive Nature of Our Work

It’s a privilege to study, to read, to write, and to meet with people. But the lack of physical activity can also be a challenge. Spurgeon, who was probably overweight for most of his life, can attest to this.

There can be little doubt that sedentary habits have a tendency to create despondency in some constitutions. To sit long in one posture, poring over a book, or driving a quill, is in itself a taxing of nature; but add to this a badly-ventilated chamber, a body which has long been without muscular exercise, and a heart burdened with many cares, and we have all the elements for preparing a seething cauldron of despair, especially in the dim months of fog.Ibid.

I’ve known pastors who have poured themselves into their work—studying, counseling, and preaching—while neglecting their bodies. And some have cut short their ministries because of ulcers, back pain, and all kinds of other problems. As those who focus on spiritual matters, it’s easy to think that our bodies are unimportant. Spurgeon probably had that attitude for most of his younger years. Sadly, he died at 57. I wonder what the Lord might have done if he had lived to be 70!

As Paul says to Timothy, physical training is also of “some value” (1 Tim. 4:8). If you want to prolong your ministry, Spurgeon would encourage you to look for opportunities to be active, especially out in nature.

A day’s breathing of fresh air upon the hills, or a few hours’ ramble in the beech woods’ umbrageous calm, would sweep the cobwebs out of the brain of scores of our toiling ministers who are now but half alive. A mouthful of sea air, or a stiff walk in the wind’s face, would not give grace to the soul, but it would yield oxygen to the body, which is next best.Ibid., 172.

As those who spend much of our time in front of a computer screen and in books, this is a good reminder: go for a hike, plant a garden, take evening walks. These sorts of tasks not only keep me active, but they also end up being some of the best times for spiritual meditation.

Conclusion 

Brothers, don’t be surprised at your discouragement. It’s part of the burden you carry as a pastor. When you experience these dark seasons, trust that God will accomplish good through it, in you and in your people. Turn to him, believe his promises, receive his comfort, and then minister out of the comfort you’ve received.

The lesson of wisdom is, be not dismayed by soul-trouble. Count it no strange thing, but a part of ordinary ministerial experience. Should the power of depression be more than ordinary, think not that all is over with your usefulness. Cast not away your confidence, for it hath great reward.Ibid., 178.

The post Pastoral Discouragement Is Normal: Wisdom from Charles Spurgeon appeared first on 9Marks.

Within certain corners of the evangelical and Reformed world, natural law has sometimes been viewed with suspicion—as though appealing to nature and reason undermines the authority of Scripture, or as though it represents a concession to Roman Catholic moral theology that downplays human sinfulness and hesitates to speak from the Bible in public life. The suspicion is understandable, at times, but it is historically uninformed.

For most of the Christian tradition—including the Reformed tradition—natural law was simply taken for granted as a moral theory. It was situated within the doctrine of creation, and it was assumed in the works of Luther, Calvin, the Reformed Orthodox, and the broader tradition of Reformed Scholasticism.John T. McNeill, “Natural Law in the Teaching of the Reformers,” The Journal of Religion 26, no. 3 (1946): 168–82. Even where the term itself has fallen out of favor in contemporary Protestant thought, the concept persists under alternative labels: creation order, general revelation, creation ethic. The conceptual substance remains even when the vocabulary changes, mostly because Christianity will, inexorably, rely upon its tenets if it hopes to engage secular society.

The real problem today is not that natural law is misguided or unbiblical. The problem is that it has largely disappeared from our theological vocabulary. And when it disappears, several consequences result. Our arguments in the public square become weaker, which goes a long way toward explaining why evangelicals were caught flat-footed in the marriage debates. Our doctrine of creation becomes thinner. In its outward-facing interactions, the church can begin to look as though it inhabits its own moral ghetto, as though Christian ethical claims are believable only by faith and untethered to reality as it actually is. Worse still, we end up with a truncated understanding of how God reveals himself and a narrow account of Scripture’s sufficiency—one that leaves us scrambling for Bible verses when confronted with questions like IVF that the Bible does not directly address.

But natural law is not a threat to Scripture. Properly understood, it is one of Scripture’s own teachings. And the place to begin making that case is Psalm 19.

What Is Natural Law? 

Before turning to our anchor text in Psalm 19, a working definition is in order: Natural law is the objective moral order established by God and woven into the fabric of creation. It reveals the orderly design of creation, the goods toward which human beings are ordered, and the moral norms that distinguish right from wrong. Theologically, this moral order reflects the wisdom and character of the Creator. Anthropologically, human beings—made in the image of God—possess rational faculties that allow us to recognize aspects of this moral order through the exercise of reason.

A qualification is immediately necessary. Because of sin, our perception of this order is darkened. Human beings suppress the truth. But our rational capacities are not destroyed. Historic Reformed theology holds that the intellect is wounded, not extinguished. Through God’s common grace, people remain capable of recognizing basic moral truths—which is why societies can still distinguish between good and evil, make laws, condemn injustice (think of the Nuremberg trials), and pursue the common good. Sinful humanity suppresses the truth in unrighteousness, not in total ignorance. Scripture portrays humanity’s opposition to the natural law not primarily as a knowledge problem but as a problem of the will.

In short, creation speaks morally because creation was designed morally. And as rational creatures, we are endowed with capacities to know basic truths about the moral order.

Psalm 19: A Map of Moral Knowledge 

Psalm 19 is often read as a beautiful poem about nature and Scripture. But it is doing something much deeper. It provides a map of how moral knowledge works. David structures the psalm in three movements: creation (vv. 1–6), in which the moral order is revealed; covenant (vv. 7–10), in which the moral law is specified in inscripturated form; and conscience (vv. 11–14), in which the moral law is internalized. The psalm moves from cosmic revelation to covenantal legal revelation to personal application. Or we could categorize God’s revelation as visual (creation), verbal (law-code), and visceral (conscience). All told, Psalm 19 offers a remarkably sophisticated moral theology, and we should marvel at how the Bible speaks about the way God reveals himself and makes us capable of receiving that revelation. Psalm 19 shows us how God reveals moral order in creation, clarifies it in his Word, confronts the human heart, and how visual, verbal, and visceral revelation all harmonize as expressions of God’s moral law.

Creation as Moral Revelation 

David begins with creation. “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the sky above proclaims his handiwork” (Ps. 19:1). The psalmist describes creation as a kind of universal proclamation. But there is a fascinating paradox: verse 3 says, “There is no speech, nor are there words.” Creation speaks—but without words. It communicates through what we might call visual revelation. And note the language of verse 2: “Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night reveals knowledge.” Creation is not whispering. It is pouring forth speech—an abundance of revelation. Consider the manifold ways that even sinful human beings marvel at creation and act intelligibly within it.

Some evangelicals today, out of good intentions, are hesitant to say that natural revelation actually conveys moral knowledge. They want to protect God’s special revelation and uphold the doctrine of sin. But David has no such reticence. He explicitly says that night after night reveals knowledge. He is speaking declaratively and descriptively about what is true objectively. This revelation is universal. No language or cultural barrier prevents it. It reaches everyone by virtue of their humanity participating in God’s order. It is what C.S. Lewis called the “Tao” in The Abolition of Man—a cosmic moral reality pervades human existence.

This is what theologians call general revelation—the idea that creation itself testifies to the Creator’s moral law. Genesis 1–2, together with the Noahic Covenant, grounds and then reasserts the normative intelligibility of creation toward its proper ends. Human beings thrive when they live in harmony with their natural state as created beings, utilizing their abilities effectively for their intended purposes. A fish, for example, is most free in water rather than on land. And the same is true for human beings: the propensity to push against the created limits of our nature may feel like freedom, but in time those limits have a way of reimposing themselves—often at great cost to those who believed the elimination of limits was liberation, when in fact it leads to bondage.

Paul echoes this idea of creational witness in Romans 1: “What can be known about God is plain to humanity, because God has shown it to them. His invisible attributes—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly perceived in the things that have been made” (vv. 19–20). And Paul’s point is not how little people know. It is how much they know. Humanity is “without excuse” (v. 20). The problem is not ignorance. The problem is suppression. Sinners suppress the truth in unrighteousness (v. 18). They push it down, but the truth keeps resurfacing—like trying to hold a beach ball underwater. We see this today in our society’s growing unease with the consequences of transgender ideology and the fallout that comes from the dissolution of the family.

Scripture does not teach that nature fails in its task. Scripture does indeed testify to the fallenness of sinners, but the problem is not that nature fails to reveal. The failure lies with the creature. We refuse what is plainly visible and morally binding in what has been revealed.

Psalm 19 is not merely praising nature’s beauty. It describes moral design embedded in reality. The sun follows its course. The heavens operate with regularity and purpose. Creation is ordered. And the same God who orders the heavens orders human life. Creation is therefore normatively thick—not morally neutral; universally intelligible in that believer and unbeliever alike can access it; and ontologically grounded in that morality corresponds to reality. What Christians insist is true is not merely true for Christians but for everyone. This is the basic insight of natural law: moral norms track with creational design.

Covenant Law Specifies Creational Law 

At verse 7 of Psalm 19, the psalm suddenly shifts. The name of God changes from Elohim, the God of creation, to YHWH, the covenant Lord. The focus moves from the heavens to the Torah. The implication is clear: if creation provides moral order, the written law—special revelation—provides moral clarity. Creation shows us that a moral structure exists. Scripture specifies what obedience looks like.

David describes the law with six attributes: perfect, sure, right, pure, clean, and true. These words describe more than rules. They describe the moral character of divine revelation. If the first movement of Psalm 19 concerns visual revelation, this second movement concerns God’s verbal revelation. And crucially, special revelation does not contradict creation or general revelation. It presupposes both and clarifies them.

The Decalogue (or Ten Commandments) illustrates this principle. Many of the commandments assume creational realities. The prohibition of murder presupposes the image of God as established in Genesis 1 and 9. The norms of marriage—complementarity, exclusivity, permanency—point back to Genesis 2. Sabbath observance points back to creation itself. The written law does not invent morality. It codifies what is present in creation. It was not permissible to murder before the sixth commandment was given; the sixth commandment merely makes explicit what the creation order already implies.

Psalm 19 therefore corrects two common errors. The first is natural law without Scripture, which leads to vagueness and distortion—Aristotle, after all, used natural law reasoning to defend slavery. The second is Scripture detached from creation, which risks portraying moral law as arbitrary, as if God imposed rules without reference to human nature. But Scripture repeatedly teaches that God’s written law reflects the same wisdom that structured creation. The law is not arbitrary. It is the verbal expression of the wisdom that made the world.

Conscience as Moral Witness 

In the final movement, the psalm turns inward—it turns toward the visceral, felt reality of the moral witness located within our interior recesses, the conscience. The focus shifts from the cosmos and the law code to the human heart. “Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden faults” (v. 12). David recognizes that the law confronts the inner life. He speaks of hidden faults, presumptuous sins, the words of the mouth, and the meditation of the heart. Here we encounter the moral law applied to the conscience.

Paul describes this reality in Romans 2:15: Gentile non-believers “show that the work of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness.” Conscience does not create moral law. It registers moral law. It is a moral awareness system. And so Psalm 19 gives us a remarkably coherent framework: creation reveals that a moral order exists; Scripture clarifies that order and names our duties before God; and conscience, coinciding with both creation and the written law, applies moral knowledge to the human heart.

Faith and Reason from the Same Divine Source 

Beneath this framework lies a deeper theological truth. God created human beings in his image with rational faculties capable of perceiving the moral structure of the world. Reason is therefore not autonomous—it is a creaturely faculty dependent on God’s design and subordinate to his revelation. But subordinate to Scripture does not mean contradictory. Faith and reason come from the same divine source. Scripture clarifies and corrects what reason perceives and misperceives in creation. When reason functions properly, it recognizes the moral truths embedded in creation. Scripture then authoritatively articulates those truths. Faith and reason are not rivals. Special revelation and general revelation are not rivals. They are gifts of God, designed to work together and emanating from one divine source.

This is precisely where natural law fits. Natural law simply describes how human beings, using reason, can recognize aspects of the moral order woven into creation. God is not schizophrenic. There is not one moral code for non-Christians and another for Christians. There is one moral order known through three distinct modes: creation, the law code, and conscience. The God who authored Scripture is the same God who authored creation. Truth discovered by sound reason and truth revealed in Scripture cannot ultimately conflict, because both proceed from the same divine Author. Which means that when Christians speak about morality, we are not proposing something strange or unnatural. We are not imposing an alien ethic on the world. We are telling the world what is true about itself.

And there’s a warning for when we depart from the natural law: All secular and progressive moralities are not only violations of Scripture, but they are also absurd and irrational. Paul says that persistent rejection of the moral law leads individuals to become “futile in their thinking” (Rom. 1:21) and to social destruction (Rom. 1:22–31).

In contrast, our moral claims are not alien to the world. They are fitted to the world we actually live in. Christian morality is morality. Christian morality is reality. Period.

The major point is this simply this: Psalm 19 refuses both natural law without Scripture and Scripture severed from creation.

Why Natural Law Still Matters 

What difference does this make for the church?

First, natural law provides a shared moral grammar. When Christians argue for justice, human dignity, or the sanctity of life, we are not introducing foreign ideas into public life. We are appealing to truths embedded in creation itself.

Second, natural law helps us articulate the moral logic of Scripture. Behind the prohibition of murder lies a deeper moral reality—human life is a basic good, grounded in the image of God. Natural law helps us see and articulate the underlying structure often embedded within Scripture’s commands.

Third, natural law exposes cultural contradictions. A society that loudly proclaims fairness and equality while allowing biological males to dominate female athletic competitions, for example, has abandoned the very principles it claims to defend. When our culture says we may take the life of a child eighteen weeks inside the womb but that a child eighteen weeks outside the womb deserves protection, we can name that for what it is: an absurd, irrational conclusion. Life is life at every stage. Natural law exposes bad arguments.

Fourth, natural law deepens discipleship. When we teach ethics, we should not merely present a list of prohibitions. We should teach the goodness of God’s design. Sexual ethics is not merely a series of negations; it is about learning to steward a good gift within the design God created.

Fifth, natural law reminds us that joy and human flourishing follow from aligning ourselves with the moral order. God did not design his law as an arbitrary burden. He designed it for our joy. Obedience to God is not the suppression of our humanity—it is its fulfillment.

Sixth, natural law undergirds civil society. Even fallen societies establish laws, punish injustice, form families, pursue knowledge, and build civilizations, because creation itself presses toward order.

Seventh—and I save this for last deliberately—natural law may persuade unbelievers, but it may not. The fundamental human problem is not merely intellectual; it is volitional. Sinful wills resist moral truth. If someone has not arrived at their moral conclusions by way of reason, they will not be reasoned out of them. This means our use of natural law is not primarily apologetical.

It is first catechetical. Natural law trains Christians to recognize the moral order of God’s world and to understand why God’s commands are good. It forms moral imagination. It teaches believers to see reality rightly. And in doing so, it prepares us to speak truthfully and confidently in a confused age.

The Gospel and the Climax of Natural Law 

Natural law does not replace the gospel, but it prepares the ground for it.Andrew T. Walker, “The Gospel and the Natural Law,” December 8, 2020, First Things, https://firstthings.com/the-gospel-and-the-natural-law/. As theologian David VanDrunen writes, “If a contemporary world tempted to nihilism is to hear the gospel—really to hear it—it needs to understand that the world actually has a purpose and that the evil and suffering surrounding us are not the way things are supposed to be. There is nothing more important for the church than proclaiming the good news of salvation for the world in Jesus Christ. Far from undermining the message, natural law provides the scaffold.”David VanDrunen, “Natural Law for Reformed Theology: A Proposal for Contemporary Reappropriation,” Journal of Reformed Theology 9, no. 2 (2015): 129, https://doi.org/10.1163/15697312-00902018.

Natural law helps supply the framework that makes the majesty of the gospel intelligible to a broken world. It helps people recognize that something in the world is wrong. And once they see the moral mess of the world around them and their own moral debt as a violation against the law of God that saddles the conscience with guilt, the gospel becomes intelligible. The gospel announces that the Creator has come to redeem his creation.

And here we arrive at the climax. The moral order of creation is not upheld by an abstract principle. It is upheld by a person. Christ is the one through whom all things were made, in whom all things hold together, and who upholds the universe by the word of his power. The moral order of the world is not an impersonal system. It is sustained by the living Word of God.

Natural law can establish that a moral order exists. But it cannot explain why that order will ultimately prevail, why it is worth defending at personal cost, or why human beings—broken as we are—keep trying to give our lives a purpose. For that, you need the news that the Author of the moral order has entered history, has borne the accumulated weight of human moral failure, has assuaged divine wrath, and has walked out of a tomb a living, breathing human being. The resurrection is thus not an accessory to natural law. It is the reason for Christian moral confidence, because it tells us that creation is not evacuated of substance or purpose.

C.S. Lewis once called the moral structure of the universe the “Tao.” But later in life, he reflected on that concept and asked a remarkable question: “Is not the Tao the Word Himself—considered from a particular point of view?”Letter to Clyde S. Kilby, January 11, 1961, quoted in Michael L. Peterson, C.S. Lewis and the Christian Worldview (Oxford University Press, 2020), 74. And Lewis is exactly right. The natural law is not an abstraction. It is the imprint of Christ upon creation.

Conclusion 

When we speak about natural law, we are not talking about something foreign to the Christian faith. We are talking about the moral structure God built into the world. Psalm 19 shows us that creation declares it, Scripture clarifies it, and conscience registers it. And ultimately, Christ fulfills it. Christians should not be embarrassed to speak of natural law—we should put it in its proper place. The natural law is not a summons to de-center the Bible in our public pronouncements, nor is it an invitation to a Christless moral law—it is an entry point that leads people to the question of who the source of that moral law is. We should want the world to recognize moral truth because the world and its creatures were designed to do so. And when we speak about morality in public life, we are not introducing something strange. We are pointing people back to the order that God placed in his creation from the beginning.

This essay will be published in a forthcoming volume by the author. Crossway has granted permission for it to be published in this format.

The post Creation Speaks: Natural Law, Psalm 19, and the Recovery of Moral Theology for Evangelical Political Thought appeared first on 9Marks.

Pastor, you may have no intention of ever publishing a book or an article, and that’s fine. But you’re already a writer.

You write sermons, emails, Sunday school lessons, elder updates, notes of encouragement, and maybe the occasional devotional or article for your church. (Did I mention emails?) Some of your writing is public. Most of it is ordinary and unseen. But all of it uses words to serve people. And each of us can grow in that.

So let me offer nine marks of a healthy paragraph—shorthand for words people will want to read. Writing is an art form, which means taste and judgment are involved. So these are not laws. They’re simply lessons I’ve picked up through editing, practice, and making plenty of mistakes along the way.

I’m aiming especially at pastoral writing—not literary fiction, academic prose, or the generic thing we often call “content.” In other words, the kind of writing that’s targeted at serving people’s souls.

1. Be Clear

If people don’t know what you’re saying, it doesn’t matter how stylishly you say it. Cleverness can be a gift, and a memorable phrase can help something stick. Just think of famous written phrases like “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose,”This saying is taken from the writings of Jim Elliott, a missionary who was martyred while attempting to reach the Auca Indians with the gospel in the jungles of Ecuador in the early days of 1956. or “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.”This saying from John Piper figures prominently in his preaching and writing, including especially his book Desiring God: Meditations of a Christian Hedonist (Crossway, 2025). But cleverness can also take over and overwhelm clarity. This happens when you use a phrase because it sounds good, even if it sends the paragraph sideways.

Before you write, simply ask, What am I trying to say? If you can’t answer that clearly, then your reader certainly won’t be able to either. As pastors, we often write from an overflow of concern. We see the angles. We anticipate objections. And feeling the need to say everything, we can fail to say something—or at least fail to say it well.

2. Get Concrete

One of the easiest ways to improve a paragraph is to ask, How can I make this more concrete? Pastors can drift into religious language that’s accurate but abstract. We write about “faithfulness in the Christian life” or “gospel-centered community” or “a culture of this or that.” Those phrases are fine—but just know they hover above the ground. Try naming the actual thing. “A tired mom opening her Bible before the kids wake up.” “A member choosing not to repeat what he heard.” “An older saint writing a note to a discouraged college student.” Concrete words are your friends. They give the reader something to see.

This is why examples are crucial. If you write, “The redeemed people of God should encourage one another,” that’s true. But if you write, “So walk across the room after church. Send the text. Write the note. Tell the weary saint, ‘I see God’s grace in you,’”—now people are visualizing obedience.

3. Deploy Verbs

Often the best way to make a sentence stronger is to make the action clearer.

If you write, “There is a need for Christians to have a greater awareness of the importance of prayer,” that sentence is true—and stilted. Just try: “Christians need to pray.” Maybe that’s too blunt for your final version, but at least it’s crystal clear.

Much clutter hides inside phrases like “there is,” “there are,” “it is important,” “we need to be aware,” “in light of the fact that,” and so on. These phrases aren’t always wrong, but they often signal too much scaffolding. Find the actor. Find the action. Put them near each other. “Christ comforts sinners.” “Members bear burdens.” “Shepherds know their sheep.” Or as Jamie Dunlop has written, “Elders lead ministry. Deacons facilitate ministry. The congregation does ministry.”Jamie Dunlop, “Deacons: Shock-Absorbers and Servants,” 9Marks, March 31, 2010, https://www.9marks.org/article/deacons-shock-absorbers-and-servants/.

Perhaps you worry that active verbs will make your writing feel simplistic. In truth, they’ll simply help it move. And that matters in pastoral writing because we’re often dealing with weighty truths that need clean sentences, not inflated ones.

4. Stay Organized

Once you know what you’re trying to say, you still must decide how to arrange it. This is where a lot of pastoral writing gets messy. We care about the topic. We see every side road. We keep finding one more illustration, one more quote, one more paragraph to squeeze in. Soon the piece has more furniture than the room can hold.

Outline what you’re writing, even if it’s loose. What comes first? What must be explained before the next thing will make sense? What belongs here, and what belongs somewhere else—some other paragraph, some other piece, or maybe just between you and the Lord?

A good paragraph should have one job. If you’re trying to explain the problem, answer an objection, give an illustration, and land the plane, it probably needs to be broken up.

5. Get Moving

So much writing takes too long to start. You can almost feel the writer warming up on the page. “In our day and age, there are many important issues that Christians need to think through carefully.” Okay, sure, but that sentence could introduce almost anything.

Consider starting closer to the pressure point. Instead of, “The reality of the matter is that it’s easy for many Christians to struggle with prayer,” maybe write, “Most Christians feel guilty about prayer.” Instead of, “Conflict is, without doubt, one of the most difficult realities that local churches face in a fallen world,” maybe write, “Some church conflicts begin with sin, but many begin with unclear expectations.”

I’m not saying every opening sentence needs to grab the reader. But it should do something: create interest, establish direction, or put pressure on the question you’re trying to answer. Sometimes your real beginning is buried in paragraph two or three because you had to write your way into the piece.

6. Vary the Rhythm

There is a musicality to good writing. You may have seen an image of Gary Provost’s paragraph about writing, with each sentence color-coded based on length. Even without the colors, his point is worth hearing:

This sentence has five words. Here are five more words. Five-word sentences are fine. But several together become monotonous. Listen to what is happening. The writing is getting boring. The sound of it drones. It’s like a stuck record. The ear demands some variety.

Now listen. I vary the sentence length, and I create music. Music. The writing sings. It has a pleasant rhythm, a lilt, a harmony. I use short sentences. And I use sentences of medium length. And sometimes, when I am certain the reader is rested, I will engage him with a sentence of considerable length, a sentence that burns with energy and builds with all the impetus of a crescendo, the roll of the drums, the crash of the cymbals—sounds that say listen to this; it is important.

So write with a combination of short, medium, and long sentences. Create a sound that pleases the reader’s ear. Don’t just write words. Write music.This illustration is taken from Gary Provost, 100 Ways to Improve Your Writing (Penguin Random House Australia, 1985).

That may be a little overwrought, but the point is: mix it up. One of the best ways to check rhythm is simply to read your writing out loud. Your ear will catch what your eye excuses. You’ll hear the repeated word. You’ll feel the sentence that starts to drag. You’ll notice the phrase that sounds officious and stuffy rather than pastoral and clear.

Here’s a little tip. If you’re going to list two or three or four things—adjectives, for example—try putting the one-syllable word at the end. It helps the sentence land with a little more force. A few sentences ago I said, “You’ll notice the phrase that sounds officious and stuffy rather than pastoral and clear.” I could have switched the last two adjectives and said, “rather than clear and pastoral.” But that kind of fizzles since you’re moving from one syllable to three. Instead of “clear and pastoral,” say “pastoral and clear.” Or rather than writing “Jesus is full of love, compassion, and mercy,” say “Jesus is full of compassion, mercy, and love.” Do you hear the difference? It’s not an ironclad law, but it’s usually a good instinct.

7. Be Warm

This one matters a lot for pastors. We write on behalf of elder boards, churches, and ministries—and before long, we can start sounding more institutional than pastoral.

Of course, careful language is vital. But careful doesn’t have to mean clinical. Instead of saying, “The elders are prayerfully initiating a process of member care in response to prolonged disengagement,” you might just say, “The elders are trying to care for members we haven’t seen in a while.” Instead of, “Your attendance at our regular gatherings has been inconsistent,” you might say, “We’ve missed you, and I wanted to check in.”

The warmer sentence may not be the final sentence. Sometimes you do need more precision or punch. But start by trying to sound conversational, like a human being.

8. Revise Humbly

Give yourself enough time to come back to what you’ve written. Most first drafts are too long. Mine usually are. The magic is in the edit, because it forces you to ask, Did I already make this point? Is this sentence doing anything? Could I say this with fewer words?

When you edit, look for words that aren’t earning their keep. “At this point in time” can become “now.” “Due to the fact that” can become “because.” “In the event that” can become “if.” You can even shorten individual words to enhance flow. Instead of “however,” you can say “though.” Instead of “nevertheless,” you can say “nonetheless” (one syllable shorter!), or even better, “still.”

I’ve felt this most often as an editor. So many articles aren’t wrong; they’re just bloated. They carry one more illustration, quote, qualification, or paragraph the writer couldn’t bear to lose. Honestly, a lot of modern Christian books would be better if they were simply shorter—like, a quarter to a third shorter. (And don’t assume “shorter” means “thinner.” Not the same thing. Less is often more.)

When a piece of writing matters, ask someone to read it. Ask, Is the main point clear? Did anything feel confusing, too sharp, too long? Faithful are the wounds of a friend—especially the one who edits you. Good editing preserves a writer’s voice while saving a writer’s face.

9. Write to Serve

Part of serving readers is learning to sound like yourself. Learn from writers you admire, but don’t become a bargain-basement version of them. If you’re funny, be funny when it fits. If you’re not, don’t force it. As with preaching, some of the worst writing happens when you’re trying to sound like someone else.

Immerse yourself in good writing. I’m not sure I’ve ever known a good writer who wasn’t a voracious reader. Read authors you find compelling. Listen to communicators who hold your attention. Ask, What about this works? Then adapt one or two things in your own way.

And then write. There’s no substitute for reps. Write out your sermons, even if you don’t bring a manuscript into the pulpit. Write Sunday school classes, devotional reflections, journal entries—even articles if you have the opportunity.

Don’t wait until you have something grand to say before you practice saying ordinary things well.

Conclusion 

We traffic in words because God has chosen to work through words. From creation to salvation, from his perfect Word to our fallible ones, God loves to turn the lights on through written truth. That’s why we care about words: because we care about souls.

So let’s grow in being those who steward our sentences with care and humility. (And maybe you’re thinking, He should’ve ended with humility and care.)

The post Nine Marks of a Healthy Paragraph: Practical Suggestions for Improving a Pastor’s Writing appeared first on 9Marks.

“How do you pastor members who have extremely sensitive consciences?” Our elders asked this during my pastoral candidacy. They loved and knew their people. I made good use of Romans 14 in reply. But experience did not inform my answer.

Today, after eight years, it does.

Conscience is our moral faculty that assesses what is good and badThis definition is from Kevin DeYoung, The Art of Turning: From Sin to Christ for a Joyfully Clear Conscience, pp. 13–14.—a unique feature of our humanity, not a bug. But the conscience can be buggy. A conscience may be seared so that an alarm does not sound when it should (1 Tim. 4:2). Or it may go off needlessly.

I’ve met church members who are hard on themselves. Like radar that mistakes birds for bombers, their consciences hold them in a state of emergency. They live under the threat of God’s judgment. They apologize a lot. Some are hard on others, too. Like air traffic controllers with defective equipment, they cry danger when there is none. They accuse a lot. They may mean well. Or they may despise rather than welcome their brothers and sisters (Rom. 14:10). The issues are many. Intensity levels vary.

How do we pastor members with extremely sensitive consciences? Our mind may jump immediately to the counseling appointment. We’ll get there. When we do, we’ll make good use of Paul’s model and instruction in Romans 14. But as I thought about my own pastoring, the whole of the ministry came into view.

Here are four venues for pastoring especially sensitive consciences.

1. Pastor the Conscience at the Front Door 

We meet all kinds of consciences at the front door—that is, the membership class, a newcomers’ reception, or conversations after the service and over coffee. Each conscience is shaped by a different upbringing, the preaching they’ve been under, and the part of the country they’re moving from. Those with especially sensitive consciences are usually new believers or Christians deeply shaped by people who played a key role in their salvation or growth.

Here are a few ways to pastor the conscience at your church’s front door.

Speak Joyfully of God’s Liberating and Transforming Grace 

Our pews are lined with stories of burdened consciences set free by grace through the Word. This includes many who traveled in especially strict fundamentalist circles. You never know what the Lord will do in the life of your next guest. Let the joy of this good news be the first note you strike. Everyone needs to hear it, especially those with sensitive consciences.

Tell Guests What to Expect and What You Expect 

This is just good hospitality. Teach on your Confession of Faith (what you believe together) and your Membership Covenant (how you live together). Get specific. Use Albert Mohler’s “Theological Triage” to illustrate why your church does not treat all differences alike.Albert Mohler, “Theological Triage.” 9Marks, 2010. https://www.9marks.org/article/theological-triage/. Explain and illustrate how you guard the gospel by granting differences on tertiary matters.

Know Your Region and Run Allergy Tests 

“I don’t like the music” was something I was used to hearing in church work. But “God doesn’t like the music” was new to my ears after moving to my region.

We speak with guests about the priority of the congregation’s voice and the enhancing role of music. One guest asked, “Would the elders be willing to sign a statement stating they would never change the music at the church?” With love and candor, I replied, “No, we would not.” I explained, and he joined. He made no trouble when change came.

Distinguish Between Your Church Culture and Your Church’s Convictions 

The topic of music illustrates this point as well. For years, we were well-led from the piano. In our search for a vocational director for congregational singing, we were flexible to be led by piano or guitar. We needed the right man with the right convictions. Understanding the sensitivity of some guests to what’s appropriate for the church’s worship, I’d say this in our receptions: “At Heritage, we are jealous to guard the congregation’s voice in our singing on Sunday. We’re led by piano. Down the road, we could be led by guitar. But our commitment to singing will remain.”

Speak Lovingly to, for, and About Your Congregation—Tough Love Included  

I don’t let my children condescend to one another. Neither do we despise one another as church members (Rom. 14:1, 10). We want our guests to pick up on a spirit of love and mutual affection in their earliest interactions with our church. This may require tough love at times. This doesn’t happen often, but sometimes a member lets their guard down with the pastor and makes a joke about members who take issue with alcohol (or vice versa). I don’t laugh. Sometimes I correct the attitude on the spot. They usually thank me later.

2. Pastor the Conscience in the Pulpit 

God sanctifies consciences through his Word, primarily through the pulpit. As James Montgomery Boice is famous for saying, church leaders overestimate what they can achieve in a short period but underestimate what can be done over the long term. That applies to shaping consciences as well.

Here are a few ways to pastor the conscience from the pulpit.

Talk About, Teach on, and Speak to the Conscience  

We don’t preach to rocks. Or animals. We preach to people with consciences that can both accuse and defend them—accurately or inaccurately (Rom. 2:14–15). So, let’s take our cues from the apostles who spoke about their own consciences in pursuit of a hearing: “My conscience is clear” (2 Cor. 1:12). Warn the flock by speaking of the “insincerity of liars whose consciences are seared,” unable to feel (1 Tim. 4:2). Appeal for purity by warning against a “defiled” conscience that approves what is evil and rejects what is good (Titus 1:15). Finally, preach the joy of a conscience cleansed by the blood of Jesus with which we draw near to God (Heb. 10:22). In short, be sure the conscience gets airtime in your preaching.

Understand Your Context but Never Underserve the Text 

Do you have members who are teetotalers? Your audience should inform how you preach on Jesus’s transformation of water into wine in John 2:1–11. But don’t fail to preach the joy of the kingdom captured in the gift of wine. Be careful to avoid embracing strained interpretations to avoid touchy topics. Yes, the wine Jesus made was an alcoholic beverage, miraculously well-aged even. He saved the best for last (2:10).

Manage Your Church’s Overton Window by Working Through Books of the Bible 

Every community has an Overton window—a window of acceptable ideas and speech.This idea is commonly used in discussions of what is politically possible at any moment based on what ideas are acceptable to the voting public. Joseph Overton suggested that politicians stay inside this window of acceptable ideas to avoid coming off as too extreme. Politicians will also strategize for how to move the Overton window to make currently unacceptable ideas seem attractive. By way of application, expositional preaching is the way we seek for God’s Word to define what is right and wrong, good and bad. Are there taboo topics in your church? If you’re doing book-by-book exposition, God eventually brings them up. Thankfully, when your text puts you outside the Overton window, you’re in good company. Here’s a suggestion: when you find your text outside the window, slow down. For my church, I slowed down in our series through Colossians. In four sermons through 2:16–23, we defined legalism, considered the various ways we undermine Scripture’s sufficiency, and mapped the path for deep inward change.The following four sermons are an example of slowing down in a series to deal more surgically with a subject raised by the text. “The Problem of Add-On Christianity,” Colossians 2:16–23; “The Problem of Ultra-Biblical Christianity,” Colossians 2:17–18; “The Problem of Super-Spiritual Christianity,” Colossians 2:18–19; “The Problem of Extra-Pure Christianity,” 2:20–23; “Union with Christ, Power for Life,” Colossians 3:1–4.

Take Responsibility for the Emotional Temperature of the Church Around Specific Issues 

The regular preacher also bears responsibility for the spirit of these discussions. How you talk is how they will talk. How you feel is how they will feel. Are you walking on eggshells to avoid upsetting people? That’s the kind of church you’ll have. Alternatively, are you feisty and dismissive toward those with more sensitive consciences? In the long term, that’s the kind of church you’ll have.

Don’t Discount the Value of a Little Humor 

Don’t make fun of your differences. But do have some fun with them. One friend’s church was preaching through Genesis and tackled the age of the earth. Church members took different positions, and the topic could have gotten contentious. Here’s what those pastors did. The older pastor taught a lesson titled, “An Old Man for a Young Earth.” The younger pastor—say his name was Joe—taught by a different title, “A Young Man for an Old Earth.” The next week, a church member brought a sign, “Joe is not young, and the earth is not old.” There was nothing malevolent about it. These pastors effectively led their church to hold essentials and get along despite this difference.

3. Pastor the Conscience Around the Elder Table 

Preaching is central, but not enough. Healthy churches need a stable of elders who shepherd the flock of God among them (1 Pet. 5:1–2). If the elders are not getting along on a topic broached by the Sunday sermon, the sheep will know. Elder teams do well to pursue the same mind on specific subjects as well as an overall approach to getting along with differences where they remain.

Here are suggestions for pastoring the conscience around the elder table.

Work Through Your Own Issues First 

Elders are to be examples to the flock, which includes how they relate with one another. Large teams like ours—pushing fifteen to twenty men at times—have a natural disadvantage in dealing with touchy topics. But eventually, taboo topics eat trust. It’s worth the work to get on the same page. Or if you can’t, work to agree on how to relate given your differences.

Know Your Sheep and Know the Scriptures, in That Order 

Every church has its issues. Elder teams can’t master every subject. But teams can get a working handle on the topics that keep coming up among their flock, or don’t but should. Our elders differed on the moral status and practice of alcohol, a reflection of our church’s differences. This was a taboo topic for us. So, we surveyed ourselves as a team to chart the spectrum of convictions and practices, then shared our experiences with alcohol personally and pastorally. Next, we read the relevant Scriptures and summarized our shared observations and differences. Third, we discussed and agreed on a way of relating to one another and the church, given our study. Differences remain, mostly in practice, but this is a non-issue now.

Don’t Let So-called “Matters of Conscience” Sabotage Ethical Discussions 

Elder teams should be able to discern the difference between a debatable matter and a matter of moral significance. A movie that depicts a murder is different than a film that displays a woman’s naked body. Those who object to the latter are not “weaker.” They’re seeing God more clearly, for the pure in heart shall see God (Matt. 5:8). “Pure in heart” is a thing.

Understand the Bible’s Teaching on Worldliness 

What is worldliness? Should the church avoid cultural expressions that come from the world, whether clothes or music? John tells us, “For all that is in the world—the desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes and pride of life—is not from the Father but is from the world” (1 John 2:16). Worldliness is loving only those who love you back, being anxious about your life, and bickering about who is the greatest (Luke 6:32; 12:22–31; Mark 10:42–44). That kind of thing. Moses came down the mountain and found idolatry, which is worldliness. The music and dancing at the foot of the mountain were problematic because they were to the wrong god (Exod. 32:19).

Equip the Saints for the Work of Ministry in a Body with Diverse Consciences 

In addition to teaching and godly counsel, good books go a long way. I’ve used three. Andy Naselli and J.D. Crowley’s Conscience: What It Is, How to Train It, and Loving Those Who Differ offers a careful unpacking of its title. Our elders used this book to anchor our discussion on conscience issues. For a shorter treatment, try Kevin DeYoung’s The Art of Turning: From Sin to Christ for a Joyfully Clear Conscience. For a longer treatment, read Rediscover the Joy of a Clear Conscience by Christopher Ash. And for children, That Little Voice Inside Your Head by Andy Naselli.

4. Pastor the Conscience Across the Table 

Finally, we reach the one-on-one conversation—across the dinner table, the coffee table, or the table in your office. Here we take our lessons from Paul’s letter to the Romans, his famous fourteenth chapter. I’ve organized these lessons with five words for easy recall when you need them.

Before you head into your next meeting with a sensitive conscience, remember these five words.

Welcome 

With love for sensitive consciences, Paul commands us, “As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him” (Rom. 14:1). Not everyone will. Because of their own over-accusing conscience, they may impose a sense of alienation on themselves. With great hesitation, one brother met with me to ask if it was okay if he stayed in our church even though he was bothered in his conscience by a certain church practice. With a little instruction and a lot of warmth, he remains with us today. Their conscience may condemn them. Others may despise them. Make sure they’re welcome with you.

Warn 

With concern for sensitive consciences, Paul commands them, “Let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him” (Rom. 14:3). This means they cannot leverage Paul’s command to the strong to manipulate the entire church to live just as they do. Neither should they leave the church because someone else has different thoughts or practices on a matter of conscience. This will require maturity on their part and instruction from you on how to discern a debatable matter. One of our elders is fond of asking, “Could a reasonable Christian read the Scriptures and take the other position?” Use that question.

Train 

On one hand, train this brother or sister to honor the Lord by obeying their conscience (Rom. 14:6, 12, 14). Remind them, “Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin” (14:23). On the other hand, train them to know when it’s time to disobey their conscience.Andy Naselli, “Don’t Always Follow Your Conscience.” Desiring God, 2016. https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/dont-always-follow-your-consciencePaul’s choice of the word “weak” indicates that this is not a desirable condition (15:1). Where the conscience is misaligned with God’s Word, the Christian does well to recalibrate their conscience with uncomfortable obedience to Scripture. Concerning bacon, Jesus told Peter to “take up and eat.” Peter replied, “By no means, Lord” (Acts 10:14). But Jesus had the final word: “What God has made clean, do not call common” (Acts 10:15). Jesus is Lord over all, including the conscience.

Refrain 

Paul tells us to welcome the weak in faith, but added, “Do not quarrel over opinions” (Rom. 14:1). Reason with them from the Scriptures, but do not legitimize every opinion with debate. It is tempting. Some claims provoke. Some arguments are downright fanciful. Ask God for wisdom to know when to correct and when not to engage. Paul seemed to know what many of us have learned, that there is no end to such discussions.

Remain 

This is not a condescending command: “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves” (Rom. 15:1). Or, as one friend put it, “Love them more than you hate where they are at.” Hang in there with them. Members with especially sensitive consciences are not in the way of ministry; they are your ministry. And they are partners in ministry. Learn from their obedience to what they believe the Lord requires.

One Foot in Front of the Other on the Path to a Joyfully Clear Conscience 

The goal in all our efforts is a congregation marked by peace with God and one another.

Let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience. (Heb. 10:22)

So then let us pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding. (Rom. 14:19)

This takes time. Consider the placement of these exhortations in their respective letters, ten and fourteen chapters in.

So, brothers, mind the front door. Shepherd your people from the front on the Lord’s Day. Pursue a unified front as elders. And get in front of your people one-on-one when they need you. Some with a pestering conscience need help, others need encouragement, and still others need rebuke. Be ready to administer the right medicine for the soul of each patient. And as Paul said, “Be patient with them all” (1 Thes. 5:14).

Walk with these sensitive—and sometimes over-sensitive—souls, one foot in front of the other.

The post Pastoring the Pestering Conscience appeared first on 9Marks.

We launched Wiberg Seminary in Sweden in January 2026—a very humble beginning—with six students in our first course, an introductory course on the Old Testament. And yet I came to this day with great joy and a sense of fulfillment, because this is a vision I have carried for the nineteen years that have passed since I myself was a theology student and first heard of the doctrines of grace—though I didn’t hear about them in the classroom. 

Don’t misunderstand me: I loved studying theology, and I thrived at school. I still think of my teachers with affection and gratitude, even though I eventually came to hold different theological convictions than them on many topics. Nor do I claim to know much about what is taught at other theological institutions in the country or about their approach to theological education. 

So why was it so important to begin a new seminary in Sweden? 

The short answer is: there is no theological education in Sweden that trains men who will lead congregations that hold to the doctrines of grace and the continuity of the Old and New Testaments— particularly from the standpoint of historic Baptist ecclesiology. Nor do I know of any Swedish program that shares our church-centered philosophy and realist epistemology. This justifies the hard work of building something new from the ground up.

There is, of course, a longer answer as to why Sweden needs a new seminary. Like the rest of the West, Sweden continues to reap the consequences of the philosophical shifts coming out of the Enlightenment. Under the influence of people like René Descartes (1596–1650), the center of reality shifted from outside authorities (like divine revelation) to the self. The result today—after many philosophical twists and turns over the last few centuries—is a worldview in which people see themselves as autonomous creators of their own reality. Such a worldview presents challenges when it comes to passing on the faith to the next generation.

A Faith to Receive and Hand Down 

Even as Christians committed to the authority of God’s Word, we are shaped by the autonomous, self-actualizing individualism around us. Therefore, we often struggle with Scripture’s emphasis on the objectivity of our faith and the idea of transmitting it from one generation to the next. Scriptural concepts such as “remembering” are virtually synonymous with holding to right doctrine, whereas verbs such as “forgetting” are associated with defiance, faithlessness, and apostasy (Ps. 78:3–8).

The apostle Paul speaks of the gospel as something he “received” and “delivered” in a formal transmission from teacher to student (1 Cor. 15:3); he exhorts Timothy to “continue in what you have learned” (2 Tim. 3:14); and he urges the Thessalonian church to “stand firm and hold to the traditions” they were taught (2 Thes. 2:15). Likewise, Jude urges believers to “contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints” (Jude 3).

Biblical faith is not an individual construction but something received, guarded, defended, and handed down, all in communion with preceding generations. In turn, we have a responsibility not to forget or distort the faith but to hand it down to the next generation.

The Faith That Is Constructed 

Westerners—and statistics suggest Swedes are the worst of all—struggle to understand the Christian faith as something received from preceding generations. We are suspicious of anything that smells of authority, and we assume that everything our fathers believed is false until proven otherwise. So instead of receiving our faith within a confessional tradition, Christians in our society tend to construct and articulate their individual faith through unwritten scripts that govern their behavior and are developed within their social communities. In Sweden, these scripts are unwritten because churches reject all written confessions of faith. The pastor or some other group in the church sets the tone for what is believed. Christians also listen to friends or pick up ideas from famous preachers and digital influencers, yet without any grasp of a coherent theological system.

The result is that nearly everyone who identifies as an “evangelical” in Sweden holds to a faith informed by something other than historic Christian orthodoxy—Hollywood, therapeutic deism, Sabellianism, hyper-dispensationalism, antinomianism, Marcionism, or process theology—even as they remain convinced that they have no creed but the Bible. They denounce confessional traditions as human inventions but lack the ability to distinguish between “matters of first importance” (1 Cor. 15:3) and tertiary theological matters. The faith they profess is only superficially related to the Christianity of the Bible.

The Remedy: Confessional Congregations 

If I have described the problem correctly, then the solution for Sweden cannot simply be a new theological seminary. Rather, the solution is confessional congregations that engage in discipleship guided by the Word of God as it has been taught over the centuries and articulated within a given tradition. The planting of such congregations is the highest priority for those of us who long to see a reformation in Sweden.

These congregations—which today number only a handful in Sweden—will be small and subjected to great pressure from established churches and traditions. Therefore, a new theological seminary is needed to serve these congregations by training pastors who can lead them faithfully. To be sure, the most fundamental aspects of training a pastor—especially their character and pastoral competence—take place within the context of a local church. Yet a congregation may be greatly helped by a seminary that understands and supports the church in its difficult and glorious mission.

The post Why Does Sweden Need a New Theological Seminary? appeared first on 9Marks.

This is the third article of a 3-part series. Read Part 1 and Part 2.

If corporate worship is one of God’s primary means of discipleship for his people, how can believers grow in this area? This is a particularly important question given the threats to corporate worship and our discipleship.

One of the most overlooked tools for growth is honest self-examination—asking ourselves where our habits, patterns, and expectations fall short of the biblical vision for gathered worship.

With that burden in mind, the following fifteen questions serve as a diagnostic instrument for our liturgical discipleship. These questions are not intended to induce unnecessary guilt or promote an unhealthy form of introspection that prompts us to look more to ourselves than to Christ in worship. Nor are they meant to imply that certain (extra-biblical) practices or habits are binding when it comes to corporate worship. Rather, the goal is to grow in the way we participate in God’s gracious means of gathered worship.

These questions fall into three broad categories: preparation for worship, participation in worship, and departure from worship.

Preparation for Worship 

The kind of discipleship that happens in corporate worship—what we might call “liturgical discipleship”—begins long before we enter the church building. Scripture repeatedly urges God’s people to “prepare your hearts” (1 Sam. 7:3, KJV), “set your mind on things above” (Col. 3:2), and “consider how to stir up one another” (Heb. 10:24). Yet preparation is often the most neglected part of worship. Here are four questions to help us see how intentionally we approach the privilege of gathered praise.

1. Prior to Sunday morning, do I orient my heart and my schedule so that I am as prepared as possible—mentally, spiritually, emotionally—to worship with God’s people?

True worship requires intentional recalibration. Preparation is not accidental; it is deliberate, reflecting love for God and his people.

2. Do my Saturday evening activities compromise my ability to worship well on the Lord’s Day?

Careless Saturday nights can lead to careless Sunday mornings. When it’s within our power, we should try to be rested and fully engaged on Sunday morning.

3. Before Sunday, do I make an effort to read the sermon text, familiarize myself with the songs, and plan my giving so that my heart is prepared to worship?

Being well acquainted with the sermon text, songs, and other elements of worship can help truths encountered in the service go deeper into our hearts and minds than they would otherwise.

4. Do I pray for an undistracted mind and a focused heart in anticipation of corporate worship?

Because we live in an age of distraction, intentional prayer is needed for our minds and hearts to stay focused on the Lord.

These questions expose an important reality: worship is not something we merely attend but something we must prepare for.

Participation in Worship 

Corporate worship is not, and must not become, a spectator event. Scripture calls believers to “offer a sacrifice of praise” (Heb. 13:15), “sing to the Lord” (Ps. 98:1), “attend to the public reading of Scripture” (1 Tim. 4:13), and “receive with meekness the implanted word” (Jas. 1:21). The next nine questions help Christians assess how fully they engage during public worship.

5. As worship begins, do I listen attentively to the call to worship, recognizing the privilege of being summoned by God himself?

Worship begins with God’s initiative, not ours. He calls us to listen to his voice and to respond in faith and obedience. Are we freshly amazed at such authority and mercy?

6. Do I actively fight distraction by resisting intrusive thoughts about responsibilities, worries, and upcoming tasks?

Attention to God and his Word is an act of love. May we give him the reverence and awe he deserves.

7. Do I resist cultivating a critical spirit about things I find distracting, distasteful, or personally undesirable?

A critical, judgmental spirit is a worship killer. We must labor to make sure small (non-essential) matters remain as small matters.

8. During corporate prayers, do I track with the flow of thought, adding my “Amen” as I pray along with the person who is leading?

Corporate prayer is not intended to be a performance by a single church leader. Rather, it is an invitation to every member to pray along with the church as a whole as together we enter into the joys, burdens, and petitions that are voiced.

9. During congregational singing, do I offer a joyful noise to the Lord—even when I feel timid or self-conscious?

Singing is not an optional extra; it is an act of obedience that provides mutual encouragement and instruction to your brothers and sisters in Christ.

10. While singing, do I allow the beauty of the music to enhance truth without allowing it to overshadow the truth?

Music serves doctrine, not the other way around.

11. Do I resist judging those on the platform as “performing,” choosing instead to assume the best about their motives?

Charity protects unity in worship.

12. During the sermon, do I listen carefully, asking the Spirit to help me obey while still thinking humbly and critically through the passage being preached?

Preaching is not a one-dimensional exercise by a man who enjoys the sound of his own voice. Nor is application automatic; it must be purposefully pursued in humility before the Lord.

13. During the Lord’s Supper, am I thinking only of my own experience, or am I also remembering that Christ died to create a people—the brothers and sisters beside me—who will one day share together in the Marriage Supper of the Lamb?

Personal introspection at the Supper is necessary and important, but we must not forget that communion is a communal meal. Treasure the corporate nature of Christ’s command to proclaim the Lord’s death as a worshiping community.

These questions remind us that worship is active, not passive. As a kingdom of priests serving Christ Jesus amid his new covenant temple, God forms us as we participate in such priestly service—with mind, voice, body, and heart.

Departure from Worship 

Corporate worship is not complete when the final “Amen” is spoken. Scripture’s benedictions are not dismissals but sendings: God blesses his people and sends them out into the world to live as witnesses to the power of the gospel. These final two questions help believers consider how Sunday shapes Monday.

14. As the worship service concludes, do I receive the benediction as God sending me into the world to live out the truths I’ve received?

The benediction is a commissioning, not merely a closing remark. Am I listening and heeding God’s closing word of blessing?

15. As I depart, do I intentionally build up the body through purposeful fellowship, prayer, or words of encouragement?

Avoid a speedy exit from corporate worship. Lingering with God’s people after a service can be a disciplined mark of sacrificial love for them.

Conclusion 

Again, these fifteen questions are not meant to burden but to sharpen. We don’t want the focus to be on “how we’re doing in worship” instead of on Christ, the object of our worship. However, when we answer these questions honestly, they can help expose how deeply we need to be reminded of the significance of Lord’s Day worship. And they remind us that corporate worship is not merely about an event we attend but about God’s wisdom on display in Christ. It’s by looking to Christ that we are increasingly formed into his character and likeness.

The post Fifteen Questions to Help You Grow in Corporate Worship: Preparation, Participation and Departure appeared first on 9Marks.

Corporate worship is not neutral ground. It is, as we explored in a previous article, integral to every Christian’s discipleship. It’s not surprising, then, that spiritual opposition abounds in corporate worship. That’s why believers should approach Lord’s Day worship prepared to “fight the good fight of faith” (1 Tim. 6:12).

To help in this fight, we need to be alert to ways in which our corporate worship is spiritually threatened. The threats listed below all relate to the heart, and they can occur at various levels. Furthermore, many of the threats overlap. Regardless, we need to address these threats because they significantly affect our discipleship.

Unbelieving Hearts 

The most serious threat to corporate worship is an unbelieving heart. The gathered church is not merely a crowd; it is God’s worshiping community—those regenerated by the Spirit, reconciled to the Father through Christ, and adopted into his family. Yet Scripture warns repeatedly that some can draw near with their lips while their hearts remain far from God (Isa. 29:13).

The worst-case scenario is a room full of people singing, praying, and listening, yet lacking the new birth. Without regenerated hearts, worship cannot be offered in spirit and truth (John 4:24), for the most impressive outward display of worship is futile if it does not flow from hearts that genuinely treasure Christ. This sobering reality should compel pastors to preach the gospel clearly and call people to humble self-examination, not merely to outward participation.

Pharisaical Hearts 

Another threat to corporate worship is the Pharisaical heart, a heart that’s content to get the externals of worship “just right” while the inner life is marked by pride, hypocrisy, or self-righteousness. Jesus sharply rebuked this posture in the Pharisees who outwardly projected well-manicured spiritual lives but inside were little more than white-washed tombs (Matt. 23:27).

We still face this danger today. One can love doctrinal clarity, song lyrics that are theologically robust, and biblical depth, yet still fall into the deadly trap of worshiping the form rather than the Father. God desires “truth in the inward being” (Ps. 51:6). Therefore, we must cultivate humility, repentance, and dependence on God—not merely competence in our rituals—when we gather for worship.

Experience-Hungry Hearts 

We also have to be on guard against the experience-hungry heart—the worshiper who is less interested in God than how worship makes them feel. These longings take many different forms:

• the desire to be emotionally swept away in the euphoria of a high-energy worship setting;

• the desire for a light-hearted, country-club atmosphere characterized by joking, casual banter, and good vibes;

• the desire to experience something ancient or transcendent through the use of incense, chants, and aesthetically pleasing pageantry.

Not all these desires are inherently sinful. But when worshipers seek a particular mood, vibe, or aesthetic instead of God himself, they approach worship the way one might search for the perfect restaurant: “The menu and ambiance were just right!” Worship is not about curating an experience; it is about encountering the living God through the means he has ordained.

Performance-Oriented Hearts 

The danger of performance cuts across the entire congregation, and we see it in . . .

• preachers who deliver sermons to impress rather than feed;

• musicians who use the worship service like a recital or concert to showcase their natural talents;

• Scripture readers and prayer leaders who focus more on delivery than genuine service to Christ’s body
  ;

• hyper-critical spectators who evaluate each element of the service like judges on a panel.

Critique has its place; in fact, it’s necessary and vital, but not at the expense of true worship. Corporate worship is not a competition or a concert. It’s a holy assembly where every servant seeks to decrease so that Christ may increase.

Distracted Hearts 

On any given Sunday, many Christians resemble Jesus’s friend Martha—overly concerned with logistics, details, and responsibilities, all while failing to treasure the gift of the Lord’s presence with them (Luke 10:38–42). A distracted heart may be busy for Jesus yet inattentive to Jesus.

Distraction during worship—wandering thoughts, anxious concerns about less important matters, constant interior multitasking—gradually forms believers who find it difficult to concentrate long enough to behold the glory of Christ. This is especially a danger for church leaders who preside over various elements of the service. By God’s grace, they should seek to be examples to the congregation of what it means to worship with an undistracted heart.

Uninformed Hearts 

Some hearts are eager to worship but simply lack understanding. They don’t know what a worship service is, why Christians gather the way they do, or how the biblical elements of the service hold together. This is (understandably) where many new believers begin, but they shouldn’t remain there. It’s also why churches must commit themselves to what might be referred to as liturgical discipleship: teaching the biblical, historical, and practical foundations of Christian worship so that God’s people understand what they are doing and why it matters.

One way to carry out this kind of discipleship is through the use of rubrics. Here’s how Bryan Chapell defines rubrics and their purpose:

. . .rubrics are the little directions that appear in the bulletin or are voiced by the worship leader to lead the congregation through the conduct of worship. The rubrics are not the major elements of the worship service, but rather are the instructive transitions that tell the congregation what to do and why. Rubrics verbally tie together key aspects of the worship service, explaining their purpose and sequence in relation to the theme(s) of the entire service. Skilled use of rubrics helps the worship service to make sense and move along with clarity, purpose, and attitudes appropriate for each element.Bryan Chapell, Christ-Centered Worship (Baker Academic, 2017), 203.

By using rubrics, or simple directions, churches can disciple their members to better understand the meaning and purpose of each element of gathered worship.

Passive Hearts 

Some attend worship like spectators. They enjoy the atmosphere, the music, the message, and the people around them, but they don’t actively participate. Their minds are elsewhere. Their voices are faint. And their passive hearts remain unengaged.

Such people watch worship happen but fail to offer themselves as living sacrifices (Rom. 12:1). But for those transformed by the gospel, active participation in corporate worship is not optional. “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so” (Ps. 107:2) as they behold the splendor of God’s mercy in Christ each Lord’s Day!

Naïve Hearts 

One of the most dangerous threats to corporate worship is the naïve assumption that Sunday morning is spiritually safe, peaceful, and insulated from temptation. Many Christians don’t realize that they may face more temptation, more distraction, and more spiritual opposition during the corporate gathering than at any other time during the week.

Worship is warfare. The evil one, as he did throughout the New Testament, works to oppose the ministry of the Word. And it seems that he works overtime when God’s people assemble for worship, seeking to distract, deceive, distort, and dislodge every edifying thought. Therefore, Christians should prepare for spiritual warfare when they gather.

Conclusion 

Each threat listed above has the potential to undermine God’s gift of corporate worship and its role in our discipleship. Therefore, we should ask God to make us a people who are alert, humble, attentive, joyful, and ready to contend for the faith each and every Lord’s Day.

The post Threats to Corporate Worship and Our Discipleship appeared first on 9Marks.

For many Christians, corporate worship and discipleship appear to have little connection. Though it’s called corporate worship, many churchgoers think of it in individualistic terms—“Sure, there are other people in the room with me, but we’re all here for our own experience with Jesus.” Discipleship, meanwhile, is reduced to one-on-one relationships as fellow members spur one another on in Bible reading and prayer (which are obviously good things).

Given how myopically we tend to view worship and discipleship, it’s not surprising that many churches fail to connect the two. But since corporate worship is so spiritually formative, churches should view it as part of a comprehensive approach to discipleship. This is best accomplished through three interrelated stories: the Bible’s story (biblical theology), the church’s story (historical theology), and our own stories (practical theology).

Biblical Theology and Corporate Worship 

Scripture reveals that corporate worship is not peripheral to God’s people but woven into the very purpose of creation and the goal of redemption. Adam is not only created in the imago Dei, or image of God, but also as homo liturgicus, a worshiping person. And Adam’s worship was never intended to remain private. His commission to “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen. 1:28) implies the expansion of worshipers to the ends of the earth (cf. Hab. 2:14).

Yet this commission is almost immediately threatened by sin’s entrance onto the scene. After the fall (Gen. 3), the biblical storyline reads like a history of worship under assault: sacred purpose distorted, sacred space defiled, and sacred service redirected toward false gods. But God does not abandon his design. Instead, he initiates a long reclamation project to build a worshiping people through successive covenants. From Noah to Abraham to Moses to King David, God progressively reestablishes access for his people to himself with a renewed call to faithful worship.

Access to God reaches its fulfillment in our Lord Jesus Christ. In him our sacred purpose of enjoying communion with God is restored through his atoning grace and intercessory work at the Father’s right hand. Sacred space is reclaimed as Emmanuel—God with us—tabernacles among us (John 1:14). Sacred service is renewed as believers minister as a royal priesthood and a kingdom of priests (1 Pet. 2:9; Rev. 5:10), following the lead of our chief liturgist, the Lord Jesus (Heb. 8:1).

Finally, Revelation tells of redeemed saints from every nation gathered around the throne in a cosmic “holy of holies,” praising Jesus the Lamb for all eternity. This is the end toward which the entire storyline moves: God glorified through a redeemed community worshiping him together forever.

To neglect the corporate character of worship is not merely to misunderstand a church practice—it is to misunderstand the purpose of creation and redemption. Corporate worship is the divinely intended arena where God forms, nourishes, and gathers his people for his glory. Therefore, churches must help their members grasp the glorious privilege they have each Lord’s Day.

While corporate worship is integral to the Bible’s overarching story, the church’s story reveals how believers through the ages have embraced—and at times forgotten—this sacred calling.

Historical Theology and Corporate Worship 

Nick Needham writes, “Any serious consideration of worship must take into account the history of worship, as a sort of running commentary on Scripture—embodied in practice and preserved in literary monuments, especially liturgies.”Philip Graham Ryken, Derek W. H. Thomas, and J. Ligon Duncan III, ed. Give Praise to God: A Vision for Reforming Worship (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2003), 375. 

For instance, the Bohemian reformer Jan Hus gave his life to recover the doctrine of the priesthood of all believers. This doctrine helps Christians understand why we can pray and sing directly to God rather than through human mediators. Or consider how the clergy-dominated medieval Mass reveals the recurring danger of performative worship. Perhaps recognizing this danger could change our perspective on modern services where a handful of musicians on a stage overshadow or silence the congregation’s voice.

In our day consumerism, individualism, and digital distraction produce their own powerful liturgies that shape worshipers long before they arrive on Sunday. When church leaders ignore this, they leave congregations vulnerable to these competing influences.

Practical Theology and Corporate Worship 

As church members grasp the Bible’s story of worship and the church’s story through the ages, they should increasingly see that congregational worship is God’s gift to them. They are entering the sacred space of Christ’s new covenant temple—his church—where their holy calling is “to proclaim the excellencies” of the One who called them out of darkness and into his marvelous light (1 Pet. 2:9).

This grand vision of worship affects our discipleship in many practical ways. For example, when a believer comes to worship with a heavy heart and sees a brother across the aisle praising Jesus even as he’s suffering from an incurable disease, his own hope is rekindled. Or when a hymn written centuries ago stirs our affections, we remember that a day is coming when we will stand beside its author in the great congregation of the righteous.

May church leaders disciple their flocks to understand and gladly participate in God’s gracious provision of Word-saturated, gospel-adorning corporate worship that magnifies God’s mercy in Christ. And may the Lord’s Day continue to forecast the eternal joy we will one day share around God’s throne.

The post Discipled Every Sunday: The Priority of Corporate Worship in Christian Discipleship appeared first on 9Marks.

Editor’s Note: The following article originally appeared at TGC and is used here with TGC’s permission.

I’m a new elder.

For years, I’ve aspired to the office. I’ve memorized 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1. I’ve read books on eldership and attended elder meetings. But until recently, I’ve never actually served as an elder.

I’ve especially been reflecting on one parable as I begin. It’s probably not at the top of your “Scriptures for elder training” list—it certainly wasn’t on mine. But take a look at Luke 14:7–11, the parable of the wedding feast.

Not Just Banquet Etiquette

Luke 14 isn’t merely about banquet etiquette. Jesus exposes the quiet desire to seek honor from others and asserts that in his kingdom, the way up is down.

If you’re a new elder, you may feel tempted to prove yourself. Taking the low seat means resisting that urge. Here are three ways new elders can do that.

1. Speak Less; Listen More

One of the most practical ways a new elder can take the low seat is with his words.

You’re likely eager. You finally sit at the table. You finally have a vote. Perhaps you’ve aspired to this for many years. As you listen, you notice things that could be improved. You have ideas. You have energy. You want to contribute. That desire isn’t wrong. But it can drift into something else: the urge to prove yourself.

Proverbs 18:13 warns, “If one gives an answer before he hears, it is his folly and shame.” Take time to hear—because you need time to understand. Don’t lose your eagerness. Just let your ears be more eager than your mouth. Hold back your “answers.” Listen long enough to learn.

In Jesus’s parable, the man who takes the high seat risks being told, “Friend, move down.” That’s not what you want to hear in your first year of eldership. You don’t want to be pulled aside after a meeting for responding too quickly, speaking too sharply, or offering solutions before you fully understand the problem.

If anything, you want the opposite. You want the other brothers to tell you, “Friend, move up higher. We’d like to hear what you think.”

In my previous church, a veteran elder advised new elders not to say anything in elder meetings for their first six months. That’s not a universal rule. Every elder board is different in size, experience, and culture. But the instinct is wise: As a new elder, assume you should speak less and listen more.

You may be more trained than some other elders, but they’ve been in the trenches of your church for years. They carry battle wounds you haven’t yet seen. They’ve buried members, counseled struggling marriages, and wept over prodigal children long before you sat at the table.

New elder, take the low seat—and for now, let your ears do the work.

2. Learn Context, and Assume the Best

Your elder work didn’t begin with you. And that’s a gift.

From ministry practices to staffing structures to budget lines, you’re stepping into decisions you didn’t make. Some of it may seem unclear to you. Perhaps even unwise.

But taking the low seat requires humility. Before you critique, learn the context. Before you propose a change, understand the history. Assume there are good reasons behind the decisions you’ve inherited, even if you don’t yet see them.

C. S. Lewis writes, “If you join at eleven o’clock a conversation which began at eight you will often not see the real bearing of what is said.” You’re entering a conversation that began long before you arrived. Learn what happened at eight, nine, and ten o’clock, and assume the best when you don’t yet understand.

In a recent meeting, a fellow new elder modeled this well. At several points, he asked, “Have we dealt with this in the past?” It’s a simple question, but it communicates humility. It says, “I may not know the whole story yet.”

In time, you may propose a change, and your ideas may prove helpful. But for now, take time to learn the context, and assume the best.

3. Remember Your Role

You may be tempted to put too much weight on elder meetings. You may think of them as “the room where it happens,” to borrow a phrase from Hamilton.

But remember your role. Elders are shepherds, not shareholders. A shareholder walks into the meeting thinking, Now my work begins. But a shepherd walks out of the meeting thinking, Now my work begins.

 Peter exhorts elders to “shepherd the flock of God that is among [them]” (1 Pet. 5:2). The meeting is only a small part of the work. Pray for the flock. Feed them God’s Word. Pursue the wandering. Protect them from wolves. At the end of the day, the most important work in an elder meeting doesn’t concern the budget or the building. It concerns souls.

As a new elder, you’re not there to win arguments. If you’re there to feel important, you’ve already taken the wrong seat. Take the low seat by asking, “How are Joe and Mary doing?” Even more, by praying for them and inviting them over for dinner.

Care for souls. Be a shepherd. The meeting serves the ministry, not the other way around.

Look to the Chief Shepherd

You’re a shepherd, yes. But don’t forget: You’re an under-shepherd. The church doesn’t belong to you. The honor isn’t yours to claim. Beware of self-exaltation. Jesus says, “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled” (Luke 14:11).

Taking the low seat doesn’t mean ignoring biblical conviction or becoming a “yes man.” It means choosing humility rather than grasping for honor. It means seeing your fellow elders as gifts, not rivals. It means remembering that the church belongs to Christ and acknowledging the price he paid for her.

Jesus didn’t merely teach us to take the low seat. He took it himself not at a banquet but at the cross. Though honor was rightly his, he didn’t grasp for it. If the Chief Shepherd took the lowest seat, how can his under-shepherds reach for the highest?

In Christ’s kingdom, the way up is down. It’s true at wedding feasts. And it’s true in elder meetings.

To learn more about TGC’s virtual cohort for elders and deacons (May 20–June 24, 2026), go here.

The post Advice for New Elders: Take the Low Seat appeared first on 9Marks.

Jonathan Griffiths, Gathered for Good: God’s Good Design for the Local Church. B&H Publishing, 2025. 176 pages.

“God gathers us to one another for our good and for his glory” (10). A fine claim, is it not? It’s not particularly controversial or provocative. Most Christians agree that gathering together is good—and yet, how easily can these words come out of our mouths without ever resting in our souls.

Audience 

The truths in Gathered for Good by Jonathan Griffiths are not merely intended to convict the nominal Christian or the new believer; they help even the most mature believer see God’s beauty and providence in the fellowship of his people.

Perhaps you’re a pastor who has found your heart growing dull due to creeping thoughts that there’s little you can receive from those whom you serve. Exhaustion and burnout inevitably set in as you pour into one-sided relationships with other members. If this sounds familiar, take heart! Not only are you there for the good of your local church, but your local church has been given for your good—and ultimately for God’s glory. And Griffiths has graciously reminded us of this truth.

Scope and Voice 

Prospective readers should note what this book is and what it is not. Do not expect a deep dive into ecclesiological blueprints. The tagline does contain the word “design,” but the focus is more on the “purpose and principles” that characterize the church. While other books focus on the nuts and bolts of the local church, Gathered for Good focuses on the heart of God for his gathered people, and it aims to draw the hearts of God’s people to one another in their gathering.

Griffiths weaves the gospel into every page, even as he follows a formulaic flow for each chapter. He introduces the topic with an engaging anecdote or question, tracing its root to a passage of Scripture, and then he provides three or four subpoints. Griffiths seems to have a good grasp on the ways a wide range of people perceive the local church. He speaks as comfortably and graciously to the person lingering on the edges as he does to the pastor who preaches fifty Sundays a year. And he connects with the reader not by making legalistic appeals or inducing guilt, but by appealing to their own personal good. These tender instincts undoubtedly spring from a heart seasoned by years of faithful shepherding.

Content Overview 

Griffiths is aware that intentional, meaningful, and consistent involvement with the local church can be difficult. As such, it is fitting that his first chapter provides four reasons from Scripture why believers should devote themselves to their local church. Next he discusses the uniqueness and beauty of corporate worship in engaging a person’s eyes, ears, and mouth (chapter 2) before painting a picture of biblical service that flows from one gospel-redeemed individual to another (chapter 3).

In chapter 4, Griffiths demonstrates how grace-filled giving contrasts with the world’s version of charity. He later builds on this point by using Matthew 6 to lay out a framework for holistically investing in heavenly things (chapter 6). Sandwiched between these two chapters is an invitation to take a seat at the table (chapter 5). Griffiths shows how communion offers more nourishment for the growth of the believer than the stale customs we are accustomed to.

Chapter 7 addresses prayer, and the author’s pastoral insight, wisdom, and relatability are on full display as he diagnoses common deficiencies in prayer habits and prescribes their scriptural remedies. In chapter 8, Griffiths discusses society’s understanding of “family” and then tries to capture the biblical meaning of the concept, effectively pressing it into the life of the local church. He closes the book by demonstrating the need to grow the gathering through the proclamation of the Word, faithful parenting, personal evangelism, and a corporate witness.

Thoughts and Recommendations 

The logical flow of Griffiths’s arguments and their connection to the book’s overarching argument are not always as tight as they could be. For example, the section on parenting as evangelism seems to blur the distinction between individual and corporate actions. Some chapters overlap in their content (i.e., “Giving” and “Investing”). Further, the book can seem a bit sermonic in both rhetoric and rhythm, which means some readers will want more stylistic variation.

A curious omission is the lack of a discussion on baptism as one of the key elements of the church’s gathering. While Griffiths devotes the entirety of chapter 5 to communion, its sister ordinance is not given the same emphasis. Additionally, it may have been helpful to discuss the role of church discipline within the gathered body. Granted, chapter 1 touches on the individual’s need for accountability, and chapter 8 exhorts members to move toward those who are struggling. However, neither of these exhortations is connected to the necessity and benefits of church discipline.

Despite these critiques, Jonathan Griffiths has given the church a gift. Given his ability to speak to Christians at various maturity levels, the book can be useful for a wide range of individuals, as well as for small groups, one-on-one discipleship, or studies for the entire church. I’m especially eager to place this book in the hands of those who have yet to think carefully about church membership.

The post A Book for Church Members on the Fringes . . . and the Ones Who Pursue Them appeared first on 9Marks.

For fifteen years I have held a position that doesn’t have an official title, a job description, or a definitive role. I’m a pastor’s wife. I’ve found being alongside my husband in ministry to be simultaneously a beautiful privilege and an incredible burden.

My husband began formal ministry at twenty-three years old, just months before we were married. We had big dreams for how the Lord might use our family, but none of those dreams included a long journey through the school of suffering. We never wanted a megachurch. We thought ministry would look a lot more like committing to an ordinary means of grace ministry and then trying to be faithful for a long time. The Lord had other plans.

Of course, we wept with friends in ministry who told stories of the deep sorrow caused by persistent, unrepentant sin among church members, but in our naivety, we thought the Lord would tell a different story through us.

In the School of Suffering 

Fast forward ten years, and it felt like ministry was out to get us. All those stories we’d heard from others were becoming our reality. I watched as my fun-loving, tenderhearted husband grew exhausted and took on a solemn look of defeat. I spent hours praying for the Lord to sustain us in those hard days. During every sermon he preached, I prayed for clear thinking, clear communication, and Spirit-filled encouragement, despite the sleepless nights. And I watched in awe as God continued to give my husband favor in the pulpit. But I also watched as his shoulders were visibly saddled with the overwhelming weight of ministry as he made his way back to the pew after each sermon. We were sinking together under the burden.

As God always does, he used that season in our lives to sanctify and teach us. He sustained our marriage, our children, and our souls, even when it felt like the sea of suffering was crashing in on us. But when we finally packed up our house and moved to a new area, it took years for me to see how truly broken I was.

On our last Sunday at that little church, I wept as the congregation around me sang, “When sorrows like sea billows roll; Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say, ‘It is well, it is well with my soul.’” I wept for the agony we had endured, for the sin we had seen, for the dreams that were dying before my eyes. I wept for my own loss of sweet friends I would no longer worship alongside weekly; for the beauty of what God had accomplished in the lives of these precious ones through his Word; and for the many wonderful saints who ached at our departure. I didn’t understand why we had to walk away from our dreams of a healthy church in this city; I didn’t understand why we had to say goodbye.

I had long been learning in this school of suffering, and I felt like I was ready to graduate.

Blessed While Walking with a Limp 

Because our God is so incredibly faithful, he continues to teach me through the painful process of healing. He is too good to waste even an ounce of our suffering. Like Jacob, who wrestled with the Lord, I have begged of him a blessing through the pain, and I have gleaned more than I could have asked for or imagined. But I now walk with a limp.

The beauty and pain of being a pastor’s wife is wrapped up in the fact that this role isn’t actually an office in the church. It comes with a myriad of blessings, like getting to know much of what is happening among the Lord’s people. As Erin Wheeler put it, “I treasure these things in my heart like Mary.”Erin Wheeler, “The Privilege and Power of a Praying Pastor’s Wife,” 9Marks, https://www.9marks.org/article/the-privilege-and-power-of-a-praying-pastors-wife/.

But this “job” also comes with unique, and often unseen, sorrows. The limp I walk with comes from hours on my knees. Yet, even in the pain, I have received more of God himself. When the sorrow has weighed heaviest, I have been most keenly aware of Christ’s strong arm sustaining me. When the ugly words that spewed from the saints were harshest, I saw more sweetly the beauty of my Savior’s gentle call to “come.” When kind encouragement came like water in a parched land, I felt keenly the embrace of Jesus through the welcome of his people. Now I consider my husband’s calling a joy, because my Lord has gently been applying balm to my soul through the Word and the fellowship of the saints.

Encouragements for Difficult Seasons 

If you are a pastor’s wife walking through a difficult season, hear this: God sees, knows, and cares. Your unseen limp is seen by him. As you beg him for a blessing in your own life, consider the encouragements.

Rejoice in Your Sorrow 

There is nothing like pain to make you seek a doctor. There is nothing like sorrow to send you to the Great Physician. This is why you can, with James, “count it all joy” when you fall into “trials of various kinds” (Jas. 1:2). God can reveal his kindness and faithfulness to you in ways you have yet to imagine. Sorrows can become joys as you walk with the Savior.

Remember Who You Are  

You are a wretched sinner in need of a great Savior. But there is good news! In Christ, that is exactly what you have. Jesus has borne your sin and shame and extended to you, through faith, the only real solution to your eternal problem. You have a great Savior, and in him you are chosen, beloved, adopted, redeemed, rescued, and justified. You don’t need the approval of others—because you have his! I recall Rico Tice once saying:

When we know we are children of God, we don’t fear the rejection of others—we’re loved by our Creator! We don’t fear their mockery—the Maker of the cosmos thinks well of us! We don’t fear the withholding of a favor or a promotion or anything else—we’re heading to glory in heaven.Rico Tice, “Who Are You?” The Good Book Company, https://www.thegoodbook.com/blog/interestingthoughts/2015/03/31/who-are-you/?srsltid=AfmBOoqF9oZ7o5mvomqVW1_xrIOdytI2OleEDTEkTkgT9H-dud5ndE1S. 

So when someone says that you or your husband are rotten, you can say with joy, “We are! But we have a glorious Savior, and I’d love to talk with you about him.”

Find a Friend 

Find one or two trusted sisters and share with them the whole truth. Tell them the pain you’re feeling. Tell them when it’s hard for you to love others. Tell them when you’re straying from regular time in the Word and prayer because of discouragement or busyness. Pursue honesty even when it means you just weep. If this feels impossible in your own local church right now, ask a pastor’s wife from another church to grab coffee. She’ll likely understand and could probably use the same encouragement.

Don’t Grow Weary in Doing Good 

When Paul gives us the instruction to “not grow weary of doing good” (Gal. 6:9), he doesn’t give any exceptions. Instead, he tells us to favor those who are of the “household of faith” (v. 10). But what about when the household of faith is causing your pain? There is wisdom in establishing boundaries for certain circumstances and that should be done prayerfully and with counsel from others. But Paul’s admonition remains. We are called to do good to fellow Christians whenever we have an opportunity and to never grow weary in this task.

I wish I could say I’ve done this perfectly, but I am not Jesus, and I’ve failed here more than I’ve succeeded. But if it was always easy to do good, then we wouldn’t need the reminder to not grow weary. At times, people will assume that you have poor motives, or they will gossip about some little detail you’ve forgotten. Sometimes they will simply be unmoved by your kindness. Do good anyway. God has commanded it, and he only commands what is good.

Don’t Give Up on the Church 

We naturally try to stay away from the things that hurt us. When other Christians cause us pain, we can be tempted to think, I love Jesus, I just don’t want anything to do with the church. But Jesus is not a brideless groom. His bride is the church, and he has called every believer to be a part of her and to fiercely love her because he loves her.

The church is made up of sinners this side of heaven. You will hurt others, and others will hurt you. Therefore, meditate on the beauty of Christ’s unrelenting faithfulness to a bride who often gives herself to other lovers, and see yourself in that picture. Then have that same compassion for his people. Don’t give up on the church. Jesus hasn’t, and he has been with her much longer than you have.

Draw Near to Jesus 

Jesus loves you and he will not leave you. He sees your pain, and he works through sorrow to reveal himself in the midst of the storm. He may not immediately stop the waves of sorrow from crashing in, but he will be a safe place to hide as they roll over you. Draw near to him. Meditate on his Word. Learn his heart. Seek him diligently.

The pain of a pastor’s wife is often as unseen as her work. And yet, God is faithful. He only wounds in order to bring about a greater healing. He is too good and too faithful to allow your suffering to be fruitless.

The post Walking with an Unseen Limp: God’s Enduring Faithfulness in the Private Pain of a Pastor’s Wife appeared first on 9Marks.