Interpreting the Great Awakening

By John F. Thornbury 

In his poem, "The Preacher" (written in 1859), John Greenleaf Whittier describes the wistful feelings he had when observing from a distance the spire of the church under which George Whitefield was buried. The piece, written over one hundred years after the Great Awakening in New England, captures graphically the contrast between the glorious conditions that characterized Whitefield's preaching and the "flood of sin" that had set in like the "tide from the harbour bar" during Whittier's day.

Long shall the traveller strain his eye
From the railroad car as it plunges by,
And the vanishing town behind him search
For the slender spire of the Whitefield Church,
And feel for one moment the ghosts of trade,
And fashion and folly and pleasure laid,
By the thought of that life of pure intent,
That voice of warning yet eloquent,
Of one on the errands of angels sent. [1]

I recently visited the same spot celebrated by the nineteenth century poet, the Old South Church in Newburyport, Massachusetts. Like Whittier, I had feelings of regret, not only that there seems to be no great voice like Whitefield in the world today, but even more significantly, that we do not see the Holy Spirit convicting and converting sinners on such a wide scale now. We cannot, of course, bring back the past, nor should we even try. Still, studying the great works of God in history, even visiting the tombs of the saints, can be a profitable exercise if it turns us to God in prayer for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit in the modern world.

Although it is difficult at times to sort out reality from exaggerations (or other distortions) in the revival phenomena of the day, there is certainly enough evidence to convince anyone that during the awakening era God worked supernaturally both in Great Britain and in America. During these glorious days the realities of the eternal world were keenly felt. Sinners were brought under powerful conviction for sin and were converted by the thousands. The saints of God rejoiced. Churches doubled, tripled, and quadrupled overnight. An impartial observer had to be impressed with the moral and spiritual changes which were taking place. George Baxter, president of Washington Academy (now Washington and Lee University), visited Kentucky during the height of the Second Great Awakening and wrote to Archibald Alexander, "I found Kentucky the most moral place I had ever been in ... a religious awe seemed to pervade the country." [2] During the awakenings infidel clubs closed down, houses of prostitution were boarded up, and other vexatious social problems were, at least temporarily, solved. [3]

The Great Awakenings are a fact of history. But what importance do the awakenings have in the development of the Christian church? What spiritual, social, or political causes produced them? Will they happen again, or are they related to certain conditions which will never be repeated, thus ruling out any recurrence? Perhaps we even need to ask, "Do we really want them to happen again?"

When we deal with such questions, for obvious reasons, opinions, theories,and biblical interpretation intrude into the picture. Hindsight is much better than foresight in such matters. Reviewing the past, especially the recent past, is not so difficult. Charting the future is a hazardous business. Still, anyone interested in the welfare of the church of God and our nation must be sensitive to the possibilities for the future. This essay will seek to deal with several issues which are involved in evaluating and interpreting the awakenings. First, we shall seek to assess the importance of the awakenings; second, we shall probe into the causes of the awakenings, and finally we shall seek to discover a reason for their decline and departure.

The Place of the Great Awakenings in Church History

From a historical standpoint, obviously the Christian faith is established primarily on the powerful works of God which are recorded in the New Testament. The greatest of these events was the resurrection of Christ. Other monumental occurrences in the New Testament period include the dayof Pentecost, the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, and the establishment of the church at Antioch which began the world missionary movement.

When we go outside the biblical record we find many important events within and without the church which affected the course of Christianity. Included in this should be the conversion of two mighty figures in history, Constantine and Augustine. Constantine's change led to the Christianization of the Roman Empire, which was, to say the least, a mixed blessing. He brought about an unholy amalgamation of church and state which resulted in the incorporation of a variety of pagan policies and practices into the Christian church. Augustine's acceptance of the gospel is important because of his contribution to the history of theology. It was he who formulated clearly the concept of grace and outlined the system which has been foundational in the development of the Reformation, Puritanism, and the Christian movement in the Western world.

From an evangelical viewpoint, the years between Constantine's conversion and the Renaissance are truly the Dark Ages. It was the period when the church was corrupted by the introduction of unbiblical traditions, the assumption of infallible claims by the Bishop at Rome, and the establishment of the feudal system which tended to hold people in personal and spiritual bondage. The Protestant Reformation, which came in the wake of the cultural and intellectual development known as the Renaissance, was without a doubt one of the most important developments in the visible kingdom of Christ. It profoundly affected not only the church of Jesus Christ but also the social, economic, and political structure of Western Civilization.

In my opinion, only one series of spiritual upheavals in history can be compared with the Protestant Reformation in so far as the long-term effect upon the world is concerned, and that is the Great Awakening which took place, roughly speaking, in the hundred year span between 1740 and the 1840s. My primary reason for saying this is the connection between the Great Awakening and the American Republic. Historians speak of the United States in the mid-nineteenth century as being Christianized. At that time, without a doubt, the Christian world view was the predominant one in America. Lord Bryce, an Englishman who studied carefully the American culture, could say without contradiction that "Christianity (in its evangelical Protestant form) is in fact understood to be, though not the legally established religion, yet the national religion." [4]

The connection between the Great Awakenings and the vibrant religious life of America in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is well documented. Martin Marty says that the First Great Awakening "was perhaps the most extensive intercolonial event; that it reached into virtually every kind of community and crossroads; that its effects were at first profoundly unsettling to the established order; and that indirect lines connect many of its impulses to those of the War of Independence and nation-building endeavors." [5] He also cites Perry Miller and Alan Heimert as arguing that the First Great Awakening began '''a new era, not merely of American Protestantism, but in the evolution of the American mind,' that it was a watershed, a break with the Middle Ages, a turning point, a 'crisis.'" [6] Virtually all modern historians (except, of course, those who write textbooks for secondary schools) acknowledge that the spiritual uplift which came through the widespread conversions of the Awakening era had a permeating effect on all aspects of American life - political, social and cultural.

It was not, as is sometimes claimed, the United States Constitution which established America as a predominantly Christian country, but the Great Awakenings. The fact is that the U.S. Constitution does not even mention God, much less Jesus Christ or the Bible. Although there were evangelical believers, such as John Witherspoon, who had a leading role in the founding of the nation, the predominant figures such as Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin were more deistic than evangelical. Jefferson particularly sympathized with the philosophies of French rationalism. The myth of the "Christian origins of the American Constitution" is something we must, in the interests of historical accuracy, dispel.

It was, of course, the American church which primarily sponsored the modern missionary movement. Although the awakenings had a counterpart in Great Britain, it was' the rapidly growing American church, aided by the industrial and commercial strength of the new nation, which chiefly financed the spread of world-wide Christianity. In the United States the twin blessings of spiritual power and religious freedom were completely wedded for the first time. They obviously nourished each other. Spiritual awakenings inspired a longing for freedom, and freedom made spontaneous worship and evangelism possible in a way that had never before been known on earth.

What Caused the Great Awakenings? 

Given the powerful impact that spiritual upheavals have had on the political order it is not surprising that historians of all stripes, secular and ecclesiastical, seek to trace their roots. Since such movements are related to the social changes of their times, many try to find purely natural sources for religious revivals. It was well known that the Reformation was patronized by powerful political forces from which it benefited, thus some ascribe this movement solely to human causes. The Reformation was part of a breaking up of the feudal system, and it was in the interest of natural enemies of the Catholic church to lend aid to it. A good example of my observation is the protection afforded to Luther by Frederick, the elector of Saxony.

Typical of the purely human explanations for the First Great Awakening are those listed by William McLoughlin in his book, Revivals, Awakenings and Reform. He sees five distinct explanations for the First Great Awakening. These are:

1. Social. McLoughlin points out that some argue "that after several generations of fairly stable communal life, based on the patriarchal social order carried over from Europe, a variety of demographic and psychosocial factors made this system Inadequate to the needs of the expanding population." 
2. Theological. Although Calvinistic churches had an important part in the Awakenings, particularly the first, some contend that during the Awakening the Calvinistic world view was being challenged by the European Enlightenment. 
3. Commercial. This view contends that revivals were a part of the frontier movement which dispersed the population and provided new opportunities for Individual enterprise. 
4. Political. The revivals were related to the changed relationship of the colonies with the mother country after the Glorious Revolution of 1688. 
5. Economic. McLoughlin also mentions the Marxist interpretation which states that as the Industrial Revolution advanced, the old feudal, patriarchal, agrarian system was replaced by a new bourgeois capitalist system. [7] 

Who can deny that there were social, political, and economic issues and concerns which were interwoven with spiritual movements in colonial America? No Christian can deny that there is a human, or natural, element in religious revivals. Even the beginnings of the New Testament church were related to certain socio-political events. The civil decadence of Israel, the expansionism of the Roman power, and the widespread dissemination of the Greek language provided God's chosen context in which He sent His Son as the Redeemer.

But as evangelical Christians, who believe that Jesus Christ is the Lord of human history, we cannot attribute anything as magnificent as a Reformation or an Awakening to merely human conditions. We must search for another explanation. The theological foundations of these movements, as well as the spiritual fruit that came from them, are phenomena that are not sought for by human nature. People will often turn to any remedy in preference to the acceptance of the true gospel and humiliation before its Author.

On an experiential level we can no doubt trace the Awakenings to the persistent prayers of believers who longed for God to intervene in the affairs of church and community. The Holy Club at Oxford, to which the Wesleys, James Hervey, George Whitefield, and others belonged, was a society dedicated to spiritual and theological reform. Jonathan Edwards continually stressed the need for a prayer covenant on the part of believers as a means to attaining genuine awakening. The "Hay Stack Prayer Meetings" at Williams College preceded the Second Great Awakening and the modern missionary movement in North America.

The years following the Revolutionary War were characterized by spiritual lethargy throughout the churches of the East, Middle States, and the South. In the new Western settlements barbarism, uncouthness, immorality, and drunkenness prevailed. Alarmed by these problems there went out from the pastors of this era a call for seasons of supplication for God to intervene with revival power. For example, the leaders of the Kehukee Baptist Association issued a call for repentance, confession, and intercession for an outpouring of the Holy Spirit.

As early as the year 1778, a revival was greatly desired, and a fast was proclaimed, to humble ourselves before the Lord, and to solicit the throne of grace for a revival. In 1785 ... another fast was proclaimed .... In 1794 the Association agreed to appoint the Saturday before the fourth Sunday in every month, a day for prayer-meetings throughout the churches ... to make earnest prayer and supplication to Almighty God for a revival of rellglon. [8] 

It was shortly after this that the spiritual and moral revolutions of the Second Great Awakening took place.

Ultimately, of course, we must attribute all the great spiritual revivals and reformations to the sovereign wisdom and good pleasure of God. It is obviously in the interests of the Lord Jesus Christ to establish, extend, and sustain His church with fresh outpourings of the Holy Spirit. When He is pleased to do this, there is no question that usually He creates the circumstances in which the need for it is perceived. The Scriptures tell us that God, in anticipation of the sending of the Redeemer, determined to "shake all nations" (Hag. 2:6). Even so, when God initiates major changes in the course of His kingdom in this world, He stirs up the social order. Still it is God who does it, whatever the secondary causes or instruments He is pleased to use.

Dr. Lewis Drummond, president of the Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary at Wake Forest, North Carolina, commented recently on the sovereignty of God in giving revivals. He wrote in the Florida Baptist Witness:

Why did God come down in power to the church in Northampton, Massachusetts, in 1734 and touch the ministry of the brilliant Jonathan Edwards to spawn America's First Great Awakening? Because God chose to do sol Why did our Lord reach down to a little Bible study group of Moravian brethren meeting on London's Aldersgate Street In 1738 and transform John Wesley, who then was used by the Holy Spirit to birth the eighteenth-century revival in England? Because God chose to do so. Why did the Holy Spirit come mightily on Barton Stone in 1801 at the Cane Ridge Meeting House in Bourbon County, KY that July weekend and explode into America's Second Great Awakening which wove the deep south's 'Bible Belt?' Because God chose to do so!" [9] 

Why Did the Awakening Era End? 

There was a break of about one-half a century between the two Great Awakenings. But for our purposes we can consider the hundred-year period between the 1740s and the 1840s "The Revival Era." If we include the prayer revival of 1857-59 as another awakening of this type, we can extend the period about 20 years. Either way, by any method of calculation, it has been over 130 years since a powerful, far reaching, spiritual awakening has come to America. Why is this? What are we to make of this absence of awakenings?

Let me begin by saying that the decline in the Awakenings follows the pattern which has followed every great work of God in human history. Look how soon the nation of Israel turned away from God after the deliverance from Egypt, the establishment of the kingdom under David and Solomon, and the victories under Elijah. Consider just how soon after the apostolic era that theological and spiritual corruption devastated the Christian church. Consider how quickly the theological foundations established in the Protestant Reformation were eroded soon after its great leaders, Martin Luther and John Calvin, were dead.

Perhaps we can simply fall back on the sovereignty of God as the ultimate cause of the decline of such periods. After all, if revivals come, as Drummond says, simply because God chooses to send them, then logically we must say that God simply chooses not to send them when they do not come. Yet in light of the fact that God works through human means and that there are secondary causes for revival and reform, we can certainly inquire as to what the human factors might be in why there has been no wide-scale revival over the past 130 years.

Can we say that there simply has not been any desire on the part of believers in the past 130 years? Can we say that the saints have not prayed for, or prayed enough, or prayed in faith? This would be most difficult to prove. My own impression, based on the reading of current periodicals, as well as personal correspondence and conversation, is that there has been, particularly so in recent years, a great renewal of emphasis on prayer for revival. Many classic books on revival have been and are being reprinted. Names such as Edwards, Whitefield, and Nettleton are becoming familiar to modern Christian readers. This seems to me, at least, to point toward an increased desire on the part of believers for a fresh awakening in our generation. The magazine, Herald of His Coming, seems to be devoted almost exclusively to meeting the conditions of God for revival. This particular magazine, which now has a worldwide circulation, continually presses upon Christian believers confession, fasting, and prayer for revival. In fact, the July 1991 edition boldly proclaims, "1991 - A Year of Fasting and Prayer for Revival."

Can we trace the lack of evangelical awakening to theological causes? Has God withheld the powerful outpouring of His Spirit because the true gospel has not been preached or because His name has not been honored by adherence to biblical truth? What is the answer to this question? Certainly we know that the evangelical church in America has been seriously hampered at times by heresy and compromise. Following the Civil War many of the theological underpinnings of the main line denominations were removed through liberal views of the Scriptures, God, and salvation. Of course there can be no true evangelism or missionary zeal, much less real revival, when the spiritual dynamics of the New Testament message are removed.

Still, it remains true in many places that pastors have faithfully, diligently, hopefully proclaimed the true gospel, yet without spiritual awakenings, at least in the sense that we are speaking of in our consideration. God blesses His Word wherever it is taught and preached faithfully. Few, if any, instances exist where a truly God-honoring ministry does not bear fruit. But the point is this: Orthodox doctrine, preached powerfully and effectively, does not in itself guarantee revival from God.

An interesting illustration comes to mind here. It may serve to point out the dilemma with which I am dealing. It comes through the experience and testimony of one of the greatest biblical expositors in this century, the late David Martyn Lloyd-Jones of Great Britain. Dr. Lloyd-Jones began his pastoral ministry in his native Wales in the early part of this century and was privileged to witness there a mighty outpouring of the Holy Spirit, resulting in hundreds of real and powerful conversions. God eventually led him to London where for many years he occupied the pulpit of the famed Westminster Chapel. Here in the heart of the great metropolis, although he enjoyed a powerful ministry and saw many conversions, he never saw the kind of awakening he did in his native country. I have seen it noted that this was one of the great disappointments of his life, that he did not see revival in the heart of London.

Lloyd-Jones was, without a doubt, one of the foremost authorities on the subject of revival in our century. He preached, lectured, and wrote extensively on this subject. It was a profound burden to his spirit. His views on revivals carry great weight, including explanations for why they have declined in our age. In a lecture Lloyd-Jones delivered titled "Revival: An Historical and Theological Survey," he addressed this matter. He gave this lecture to the Puritan and Reformed Studies Conference in connection with the one-hundredth anniversary remembrance of the 1859 revival. He defines revival, gives a brief historical survey of the subject, and then takes up the matter of the waning of true revivals. With his surgeon's skill he cuts to the roots of the departure of the revival phenomenon. He cites as reasons for their departure:

1. The decline in Reformed theology. He says, "The whole Modernist movement that had started in the forties of the last century gained great momentum in the sixties. It increased at an alarming speed, and the Reformed theology in particular fell into the background. Until that date - speaking at any rate for Nonconformity - the prevailing theology was almost entirely Calvinistic, apart from that of the Methodist bodies. But there was a very sad decline and sudden waning of all of that. The change took place very rapidly, and those who are familiar with the life of Charles Haddon Spurgeon will know how he not only saw the fact but deeply regretted it and bemoaned it.'' [10] 
2. The influence of the writings of Charles G. Finney. Lloyd-Jones comments on this point, "Finney's whole outlook and teaching seem to have become a governing factor in the outlook of the church. It has led to the notion of what we call 'evangelistic campaigns.' Finney is the man of all men who Is responsible for the current confusion with regard to this matter." [11] (As is well known, Finney contended that revivals are not miraculous gifts of a sovereign God, but rather are direct and inevitable consequences of the proper use of certain means. In other words, if we do certain things correctly, then revival must occur. This humanistic outlook on revival is connected with theological shifts of the mid 1800s. Historians have written extensively concerning these changes. McLoughlin says that revivals were "at first spontaneous, but, since 1830 routinized." [12] Clifton Olmstead discusses the debate on the frontier on the issue of divine sovereignty and free will. He writes, "On the whole the debate went rather badly for Calvinism. Concepts of an aristocratic God who determines all things in His creation were not in 'accord with the democratic and optimistic ideas of the frontier mind." [13] But back to the analysis of D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones.) 
3. Intellectualism. The churches began to demand an educated clergy, and this was Itself commendable. But as Lloyd-Jones says, "It does seem to be the case in practice that as men become more and more learned they tend to pay less and less attention to the spiritual side of things ... I have known this very thing in my own life. Unconsciously one can become so interested in the purely intellectual aspect of Christianity, and in learning and understanding and knowledge, as to forget the Spirit. I am therefore putting It simply as a possibility for consideration that perhaps the increase in theological seminaries may have been a factor in discouraging people from thinking about revival." [14] 
4. Increasing lack of interest in the subject of revival. In 1959 Lloyd-Jones lamented the fact that even in Reformed circles there was an antagonism toward reflection and discussion concerning awakenings. He noted that William Sprague's Lectures on Revival, which had just been published, was not selling well. He also comments on the fact that not only dispensational Calvinists such as Lewis Sperry Chafer did not discuss the subject of revival in his chapter on pneumatology, but even Charles Hodge did not seem interested either. As to why, Lloyd-Jones's answer was that Hodge did not think of the church in terms of a concrete situation but in terms of "great abstract systems of truth." [15] This was written over 30 years ago. I believe now that the situation has changed considerably. 
5. Lloyd-Jones mentions also the influence of the Puritans and the Plymouth Brethren as militating against concern for revival. He notes that the Puritans did not discuss the subject (and as usual he discusses why they did not). As for the Plymouth Brethren, they taught that Christians should not pray for the power of the Holy Spirit since the Spirit had already come once and for all at Pentecost. They reasoned that since the Spirit was poured out once and for all it is useless to pray now for the power of the Spirit to come once again. 

Lloyd-Jones then gives an interesting discussion as to why Calvinistic preachers are apathetic about the subject of revival. His reasons are as follows:

1. They, like all fundamentalists, have been occupied with defending the faith, and thus are distracted from a more positive emphasis. 
2. The fear of seeming to be too emotional. 
3. An overreaction to Pentecostalism. 
4. The reasoning that since Arminians have been involved in revivals they must not be all that great. "If men like Wesley and Finney and other Arminians can be involved in revival and used in it, well, we ought to be suspicious of revival." He blasts this objection as thoroughly wrong-headed because it fails to recognize that God is sovereign in whom He uses in revival. To buttress his case he points out that "George Whitefield received his baptism of power in 1737, but did not become a Calvinist in his theology until about 1739, when he was out in America." [16] The same is true in the case of Howell Harris. 

Lloyd-Jones concludes this lecture by giving some good, sound, pastoral counsel to those who are laboring and praying for revival. First, he reminds us that we are not to despise the ordinary or regular work of the Holy Spirit in the church. He cautions against two extremes: giving all of our attention to revivals and being satisfied with nothing else, or never praying for or expecting God to intervene in the extraordinary movements of revival.

Second, he encourages modern believers to simply press on and be patient in prayers for revival. He quotes George Smeaton who said, "As to the peculiar mode of praying, we may say that in every season of general awakening the Christian community waits just as they waited for the effusion of the Spirit, with one accord in prayer and supplication in the interval between the Ascension and Pentecost. No other course has been prescribed; and the church of the present has all the warrant she ever had to wait, expect, and pray." [17]

There have been, unquestionably, some very positive changes since Lloyd-Jones delivered this lecture some 30 years ago. There is a revival of Calvinistic literature in our generation as well as a growing number of pastors and churches who are firmly established in the doctrines of grace. Also, the republication of Jonathan Edwards's works, modern biographies of Whitefield and Nettleton, and related works are being used to stir up the people of God to seek a fresh visitation in our generation. I see more and more indications that believers in various denominational connections are praying for and expecting another true awakening. This is heartening! The Holy Scriptures are filled with promises that God will pour out His Spirit on the thirsty, and will reward earnest, believing prayer.

Will we see another wide-scale awakening? God alone knows. Some feel that the next event we should anticipate is the Second Coming, not a major revival. Certainly that is the ultimate solution to the spiritual problems of our planet. But until this glorious day comes, we should keep before us the goal of being the means of bringing about spiritual rebirth and reformation. Let us preach, pray, and trust God for this heaven-given blessing. It would be nothing short of idolatry to trust in our own efforts to bring such a true revival, but it would be sinful neglect and gross presumption to expect it without the use of God's appointed means.

"How many of us," asks the late Lloyd-Jones, "have stirred ourselves up to take hold of God? How many?" 

End Notes

1. Arnold Dallimore, George Whitefield, 2:508. 
2. John B. Boles, The Great Revival, 1787-1805, p.93. 
3. There are many modern books on the First and Second Great Awakenings. Arnold Dallimore's George Whitefield is an important source. In my own, God Sent Revival, the Story of Asahel Nettleton and the Second Great Awakening, I deal with the New England phase of the Second Great Awakening. Boles's book, cited above, is ail excellent work on the same phenomena in the western and frontier settlements. A serious study of the awakenings should also include the writings of the primary participants in the revivals, such as those of Jonathan Edwards and George Whitefield. Also, The Connecticut Evangelical Magazine, which gave an ongoing account of the marvelous revivals in the first decade of the nineteenth century, can be consulted with profit. It is published as New England Revivals, edited by Bennett Tyler, and reprinted by Richard Owen Roberts Publishers. 
4. WilIiam G. McLoughlin, Revivals, Awakenings and Reform, p. 106. 
5. Ibid., p. viii. 
6. Ibid., p. viii. 
7. Ibid., pp. 52-53. 
8. Op. cit., Boles, p. 34. 
9. Lewis Drummond, "Revival and the Sovereignty of God," cited in The Founders Journal, Issue No. 5, p. 15. 
10. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, "Revival: An Historical and Theological Survey," in How Shall They Hear? p. 41. 
11. Ibid., p. 41. 
12. Op. cit., McLoughlin, p. xiii. 
13. Clifton E. Olmstead, History of Religion in the United States, p. 304. 
14. Op. cit., Lloyd-Jones, p. 42. 
15. Ibid., p. 43. 
16. Ibid., p. 49. 
17. Ibid., p. 54. 

Author 

Dr. John F. Thornbury is senior pastor of Winfield Baptist Church (ABC), Winfield, P A. He is a conference speaker and writer who authored the important biography, God Sent Revival, the Story of Asahel Nettleton and the Second Great Awakening. 

Reforming the Pastoral Care of the Church

By Thomas N. Smith

It is a matter of regular surprise to me that people do not think of Paul as a pastor. An apostle, yes. A missionary, yes. A church-planter, yes. But not a pastor.

Now this may reveal a good many things, but one thing it surely discloses is the fact that we all tend to read the New Testament in a wooden and mechanical fashion. We assume much in our reading, and these assumptions often blind us to the spirit of what we read.

The spirit of all that Paul writes, and all that Luke records of his acts, is supremely pastoral. That is to say, it is concerned with the care of God's flock, the church. The "care of the churches" (cf. 2 Cor. 11:28) is the burden of burdens to the apostle to the Gentiles. And the essence of that burden, as Paul understood it, as he relieved himself of it, is contained in the words of 2 Corinthians 1:24:

"Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you for your joy, because it is by faith you stand firm." 

In these few choice words, we have everything that Paul regards as vital, as essential to what he calls "taking care of the church of God."

In these words, we are confronted, first of all, with the deterrent which Paul imposed upon himself in the care of the churches. "Not that we lord it over your faith ..."

In speaking thus, Paul is in complete harmony with the rest of the New Testament. Lordship in the New Testament writings belongs to only One, the true and living God who has disclosed Himself in Jesus Christ. "All authority in heaven and earth has been given to me," said Jesus in commissioning His apostles. It was this lesson of Lordship and servant-hood that the original disciples had such difficulty in understanding and evidencing in their own interpretational relationships (cf. for example Matthew 20:20-28 and John 13:1-17). That this issue continued to be a burning one is apparent, for we see later New Testament documents addressing it as well (3 John 9,10). The source of the problem is not hard to discover. It is pride, the origin of original sin. It is such pride that would usurp the rights and prerogatives of God Himself.

Thus, Paul in the same Corinthian letter (cf. 2 Cor. 4:5) can describe his ministry in these terms:

"For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus as Lord, and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake." 

On this point, that Jesus is Lord and that pastors are servants, Paul is unequivocal and emphatic. The stress that he places upon this truth is a safeguard in terms of at least two central issues in the community of the redeemed.

First, Paul is jealously guarding the foundational truth of Christian doctrine and practice: The Supremacy of God! "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." (Exodus 20:3) "There is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came, and through whom we live." (1 Cor. 8:6) The supremacy of God means that all authority is His, that only He possesses absolute authority, and that any authority invested in men is derived from Him and thus accountable to Him.

This has tremendous practical significance for those entrusted with the care of Christians in Christian churches. Pastors are invested with authority from Christ for their work. That work, is seen in pastoral labors invested in the conversion and nurture of Christ's sheep. Therefore, this derived and accountable authority is only properly exercised when ministers reflect in all their attitudes and actions toward the flock both the love and care of Christ, the Great Shepherd and Lord of the Church. The framers of the Reformation confessions recognized this and in their reaction against the clerical authoritarianism of Rome wrote such things as:

"God alone is Lord of the conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men which are in any thing contrary to His word, or beside it, in matters of faith and worship." (The Westminster Confession of Faith, Ch. 20, Sec. II) 

The heart-felt conviction that Jesus is Lord, solely and supremely Lord of the Church, must constrain the genuinely New Testament pastor to avoid anything that even remotely resembles "lording it over the faith" of Christians.

But there is another parallel truth that Paul seeks to guard in his abhorance of "lording." It is the truth of the liberty of the Christian man. If Christ is Lord, and the believer is subject only to Christ, then it follows that any authoritarian coercion is diametrically opposed to that Lordship and to Christian liberty.

It is only New Testament Christianity, authentic Christianity, that truly guards the inviolability of the human soul. The Gospel of Christ converts men, not by violating them, but by renewing and persuading them through the power of the Word and the Spirit. And this work of conversion, begun in the Spirit's regenerating ministry, is carried on in sanctification through the same means: renewal and persuasion in the power of the Word and Spirit.

The ministry of the New Covenant reflects this order of things most plainly. It is persuasive, never coercive. The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but spiritual. The tools of our pastoral work are not authoritarian, but evangelical. It is the Truth that moves, that changes, that persuades men.

The man who knows this, and I mean truly knows this, will abhor and eschew every ploy, every human "gimmick" or "trick," and every clever strategy that seeks to manipulate and manage Christian men and women. He will be on constant guard against the inherent tendency in all of us to move men to change by means other than the Truth delivered to men in the power of the Word and the Spirit of Christ. He will cultivate in himself every evangelical and spiritual means to teach, to exhort, to warn, to admonish, and to train by that truth. In doing these things, he will guard these central and supreme truths of Christ's Lordship and personal Christian liberty.

Practically, this will mean at least three things:

First, pastors must humbly, lovingly, and humanly instruct, warn and encourage those under their ministerial care. This must be the modus operandi of their private and public ministry.

Secondly, pastors must deal with people in their congregation with all the care and respect, all the the creativity and variety, which each person and his particular need demands of them. They must care enough to get involved with persons, not just in thought or theory. They must "get their hands dirty" with actual problems and spend themselves for their flock.

Thirdly, pastors must never threaten, cow, manipulate, or otherwise "use" men. Consider Paul and Apollos in 1 Corinthians 16:12:

"Now about our brother Apollos: I strongly urged him to go to you with the brothers. He was quite unwilling to go now, but he will go when he has the opportunity." 

Here is the apostle acting as the pastor. He has a wish: namely, that Apollos might go to Corinth. It is a well-meant wish. Surely Apollos would be good for the Corinthians. But, Apollos is otherwise minded. He has no desire to go. Indeed, he is "quite unwilling" to do so. But Paul, apostle though he is, does not resort to commandeering, nor to wheedling or pouting. He accepts Apollos' decision with rare grace, explains the situation to the Corinthians, and expresses hope and confidence that Apollos will change his mind at a later time. This is the attitude of a true pastor, of a ministerial leader who really believes in the Lordship of Christ and the liberty of the Christian. This must characterize us if we would be worthy of the title "ministers of Christ."

It is when this deterrent is lost sight of that evil of every kind ensues in the churches. This is the power of cult leaders: they "lead" by coercion and by demand, not by the persuasion of the truth. And when we, evangelical though we may be in name, begin to act from the same principles and motives, we have ceased to be evangelical in truth.

Furthermore, when we "lord it over" men's faith and practice, we lose our right to demand men's attention, let alone their obedience, a la Hebrews 13:17. At the same point that we begin to demand the obedience of Christ's people on the basis of anything other than the Truth of His Word, they must obey God rather than man." At that point, and just at that point, we have lost the right to lead and they have received the obligation to disobey.

All of this is simply the believer taking very seriously the word of the Lord Jesus who said:

"But you are not to be called 'Rabbi,' for you have only one Master and you are all brothers." (Matthew 23:8) 

But, if New Testament ministers are not "lords" over the church then what precisely is their role among the people of God? The Apostle does not leave us in doubt. "Not that we lord it over your faith, but we work with you for your joy, because it is by faith that you stand firm. "Here, we are given a beautiful and succinct description of the role and task of pastoral ministry: ..... we work with you for your joy."

In describing himself in his role within the Church of Christ, Paul employs a rich and varied vocabulary. In introducing himself to the churches, he usually calls himself "an apostle," (although not always, cf, for example, Philippians 1:1). He may speak of himself as "a preacher and a teacher" (cf., for example, 2 Timothy 1:11). However, the overwhelming preponderance of vocabulary used by Paul to expose his own understanding of himself is service oriented. Thus, he delights to call himself a "servant" or a bond-slave of Jesus Christ; cf., for example, Romans 1:1. Moreover, he favors the word "minister," (The Greek is "diaconos," from which we get the word "deacon") and uses it frequently; cf. examples in 1 Cor. 3:5; 2 Cor. 3:6; Col. 1:23,25; et al.

Now the term Paul uses in 2 Corinthians 1:24, translated in the NIV as ''we work with you," is the simple word "helper," ("sunergos"). Paul uses this word often to describe himself and others who worked with him in the Gentile churches. The form which he chooses to employ here indicates that he sees himself as one who "works with them." He aids them; he cooperates with them; he strives with them in the work of the gospel. There is no hint of a superior attitude, no solitary importance which he considers belonging uniquely to himself.

What Christ-like humility is displayed in Paul's use of this descriptive term for himself! The Pauline pattern is nothing but the pattern imposed by the example of the Lord Jesus upon the disciples in the Upper Room, in John 13, and imposed by Paul himself from the same example in Philippians 2:1-11. Pastors are servants, ministers, helpers. The vocabulary of the New Testament is instructive here. There is little said, by comparison, about leadership, probably because this concept was too easily distorted by worldly ideas current in the Roman world.

Furthermore, there is nothing said about "office" in the strict sense of the word; "office" in the New Testament is a spiritual function carried out in the power of the Holy Spirit for the common good of the church. Much more is made of these "service" oriented words throughout the New Testament. And Paul's use of "sunergos" in 2 Corinthians 1:24 reflects the ethos of the New Testament from the Chief Shepherd to all the various under-shepherds and helpers, including Phoebe and Priscilla, as well as Timothy and Titus. If this attitude of service orientation were the prime mover in all our attitudes, then books and articles about pastoral abuse would be superfluous. But, because "old Adam is stronger than young Philip" (Martin Luther's comment regarding Philip Melancthon, his younger companion in the Reformation), we need regularly to be reminded of the true role of ministry in the church. We who are called as pastors are servants, ministers, helpers. Nothing more, because we need nothing more: "The servant is not above his Master." And nothing less, because the Lord Jesus delights in those who prove themselves faithful to Him in such roles: "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Moreover, the use of this terminology by Paul indicates his concept of leadership in the churches. Paul sees himself, not as "over" them in the sense of being "on top" of them, but as one who assists them in the Christian life and ministry. The whole New Testament insistence on "mutual participation," (i.e., the "one anothers") is seen here! We are in Christ together. We share in one Spirit together. We are in one body together. We have one goal and purpose together. This is the outworking of principles that Paul regards as central and essential to his whole view of God's eternal purpose in the church; cf. Ephesians 4:1-16. And, practically, this is but the outworking of the one law of the church, the law of love, the law of Christ; cf. Galatians 6:1,2.

If this view of the pastoral ministry is thriving in the churches, then peace and blessing will result. But if it is neglected or denied, then the conditions warned against in Galatians 5:15 will surely predominate.

Notice, further, that Paul describes himself as "working with them for their joy." How unexpectedly Pauline! Paul can here sum up his whole purpose in ministry, his consummate goal in dealing with the Corinthians (a difficult church if there ever was one) in this word: "I want, more than anything else, to promote your joy in the Lord." For many pastors and preachers this is a concept that is so foreign, so alien, so strange, that it never seems to enter their heads! They want to help their people in obedience, in holiness, in witnessing, in Christian living in the home, in giving, etc. But to sum up one's whole philosophy of ministry as being "helpers of their joy" - it just doesn't figure!

How foreign, how alien, how strange is this thinking, however, in the light of the Biblical testimony! In the Old Testament it is the joy of the Lord that is the strength of God's people - strength for obedience to His law. It is the delight that the saint takes in God Himself that translates into joyful compliance with God's commandments, cf. Ezra 8, Psalm 19 and Psalm 119. And in the New Testament joy is not simply one of those luxuries that we can live better with, but, finally, can live without. No! Joy is at the very heart of Christian conversion and living. Those brought to faith are brought to joy, cf. Acts 8:39 and 16:34.

The fruit of the Spirit, that is, the result of the presence of God's Spirit in the life of the Christian and the Christian church is "joy." (cf. Galatians 5:22) The whole kingdom of God and the life that the believer lives in that kingdom may be summed up as "righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit." (cf. Romans 14:17) And all this can be traced back to the gracious bequest of the dying Savior to His disciples in the act of washing their feet. As He taught them, "Now that you know these things, you will be blessed if you do them." (John 13:17)

The truth is that there is no Christian living, no Christian obedience, without joy in the Lord Himself. There is nothing that pleases the Lord unless it springs from the joy which His people take in Him. Even obedience to His commandments, when done for other reasons than out of the personal delight we have in the Lord Himself falls short of that obedience which pleases Him.

If these things are true, it becomes plain as day why promoting the joy of the Corinthians (and other churches) was so central to Paul's pattern of pastoral ministry. Moreover, in pointing out the destructive and anti-Christian tendencies of the heresies imbibed by the Galatian churches, Paul sees as the "give away" the fact that as the Judaizers with their legal emphases have come in, the Christian joy of the Galatians has gone out:

"What has happened to your joy?" (Galatians 4:15) 

And the same thing may be ascertained by a careful examination of the relationship of the problems at Philippi and Paul's repeated insistence upon the grace of joy.

This is the pattern of all authentic New Testament ministry: its goal is to establish, promote, and secure the joy of the saints in their God through the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Now, by what means, we ask, may we most efficiently achieve and maintain this?

First, we must be thoroughly convinced that this is our task. Unless we believe this, there is little hope that we shall make it a priority. The man who believes the duty of the pastor in preaching is to bludgeon his people will find himself repelled by my emphasis upon this. But the man who understands the dynamics of Christian faith and life will realize that what God wants from His people is, first and last, their hearts. He is interested in them and wants them to be interested in Him for Himself. Joy is inextricably bound up, therefore, with faith in Christ and love to Christ; cf. Romans 15:13, 1 Peter 1:8,9. And the three are inescapably bound up together in what constitutes obedience that is pleasing to God. Therefore, ministers must come to see themselves as those who "work with them for their joy."

Moreover, we who serve Christ's church must labor to destroy and undermine all that obstructs the joy of God's people. J.I. Packer has rightly called the theologian "the sewage expert of the Church." The pastor-theologian (and that is what the minister is to be), must be an expert at recognizing and understanding blockages, spiritual blockages. Furthermore, he must be an expert at carefully and wisely clearing such blockages away. In doing so, he will be constantly learning, understanding, perceiving, and destroying those things which block the heart from the joy of the Lord. In private and in public ministry among his people he will seek to "preach the word, in season and out of season; reproving, rebuking, and encouraging with all sound teaching and great patience."

He must make himself a student of the human heart, that is, of human behavior and motivation. To change the metaphor, the pastor must become a spiritual heart specialist, gifted at removing calcifications from the major arteries and capable of performing by-pass surgery to guarantee that ample supplies of joy will continue to flow to believing hearts.

The primary tool for carrying on this work is preaching. We must preach, truly preach, to men. We must confront them with the truth in love. We must reason with them in the monologue of preaching as well as in the dialogue of pastoral counselling. We must make the truth of God into forms that will allow them to experience proper digestion of this food. Thus, the primary means of promoting and securing the joy of the saints is true preaching. I would define such preaching as the setting forth of the truth of the bible, in private and in public, with a biblical proportion or emphasis, in a biblical style or manner, in its biblical relationship to Christ Himself in the Gospel.

This, and only this, can really ensure the joy of God's people. This will establish and increase their faith, love, and, therefore, their joy! Let us consider the definition of preaching which I have given in some detail.

First, preaching is the setting forth of biblical truth. We preach the Word; cf. 2 Tim. 4:2. We preach Christ; Col. 1:28. We preach the Word of Christ; Rom. 10:17 and Col. 3:16. As such we are communicating the message of the Old and New Testaments, the Bible, as a distinctively Christian Book. We believe that these God-breathed Scriptures are able to equip the man of God for the joy-prompting work of preaching. Our work is to communicate the Word of God to the people of God. This is what their hearts thirst for and long for. This will feed them, rest them, rejoice them; cf. Psalm 19.

And this work of preaching is, broadly speaking, a work carried on in private and in public. We have Paul's own pattern here as well; cf. Acts 20:20,21. Viewed in this way, the whole of our work then is really the work of preaching. Not, for sure, in any ridiculous and artificial way, as if we go about everywhere declaiming and proclaiming. But, in the sense that we are concerned with bringing the truth of the Word of God to bear practically and therapeutically on the hearts and lives of the people of God for whom we are responsible. Thus, "in season and out of season," in every situation and circumstance, we are "buying up the opportunities" placed before us by the Divine providence to do men good by explaining and applying God's truth to their lives. And our goal is the same: We seek to promote holiness through Christian joy and joy through Christian holiness.

Furthermore, we will promote the joy of our people if our communication of the truth is made with a biblical proportion and emphasis. All biblical truth is God's truth, but not all biblical truth is given the same emphasis by the writers of Holy Scripture; When undue, disproportionate emphasis is given to any facet of truth, distortion results, and the joy of God's people is thereby threatened. I still remember saying to a friend who told me he was about to begin a systematic exposition of 1 Corinthians in his church, "I hope you both survive!" He was nonplussed and upon inquiring as to what I meant by such a statement, I replied, "Remember that 1 Corinthians was written to a pathological church. With a wise and cautious handling, it can make a sick church well. But, without such wisdom and caution, it can make a well church sick." It is a question of proportion and emphasis. Without this biblical, i.e., wise and cautious, handling of the truth, all truth becomes less than the whole truth and thus detrimental to the health and well-being of Christians. Faith, love, hope, and joy become the victims, and sickness, if not outright plague, ensues. We all know horror stories of situations victimized by a disproportionate and imbalanced preaching of biblical truths, of grace being turned into licentiousness and obedience being transformed into legalism. To ensure the joy of our people, we as pastor-preachers must take pains to preach the truth with balance and biblical proportion.

And there is something else, closely akin to this last thing: We must preach God's truth in a biblical manner. "The servant of the Lord must not be quarrelsome, but kind." (Cf. 2 Tim. 2:24ff.) "The wrath of man works not the righteousness of God." (Cf. James 1:20) As ministers of the Gospel of peace, we must be men of peace, i.e., lovers of peace ourselves and seeking peace with all men. The angry man is disqualified from this work, for he stands condemned by the Apostolic injunction to be "not violent, but gentle." (Cf. 1 Tim. 3:3) To really promote the joy of God's saints, we must be men who themselves are acquainted, deeply acquainted, with this joy. And such acquaintance is exclusive of anger, rage, bitterness, and malice. Preaching that reveals such ugly things is not Christian preaching, whatever its content. And such preaching will not promote and ensure true joy. On the contrary, it will damage and destroy it. Thus the angry man who justifies angry preaching with defenses of zeal and "righteous indignation" is fooling no one but himself. Let us learn from Charles Simeon and John Newton, two 18th century men, alike in many ways, and alike in this: they both deplored and condemned "angry preaching" as destructive of the work of God in the lives of His people. Moreover, both Newton and Simeon (in one church for nearly sixty years!) preached in a manner that reflected the holiness and example of Jesus among His disciples. Nor is this to say that we are not to be plainspoken in the face of sin and disobedience. We must "rebuke and reprove" as well as "exhort." But, we must be dead sure that when the harsher requirements of our calling are called for, they are carried out in response to principle rather than frustrated rage and personal pique. Joyless, angry preaching, far from promoting joy, will destroy it.

Finally, and most importantly, we must preach all truth in its relationship to Christ in the Gospel if we would maintain the joy of Christians. We have already seen that we preach the Word, cf. 2 Tim. 4:2; And we preach Christ, cf. Col. 1:28. And the Word of Christ, cf. Rom. 10:17 and Col. 3:16. (This is to say that all preaching that is Christian is focused on Jesus Christ in the Gospel.) All truth that is biblical is, for the Christian and the Christian preacher, evangelical truth. It is my opinion, after nearly twenty-five years of preaching and hearing preaching, that this factor is not so obvious as it may appear to be. Indeed, I would go further: It is my belief that the current problem of authoritarianism is not simply a problem, it is, at its root, a denial of the whole Christian position. It is a failure to grasp the essence of the truth as it is in Jesus. It is blindness which cannot see to grasp the fundamental truth of the incarnation and death of Jesus. This is our Lord's point in John 13 and Paul's in Philippians 2:1-11.

The self-emptying and crucifixion of the God-Man tell us what God has done to Himself in order to secure our willing and glad response to Him, cf. Rom. 14:7-12. How can arrogance and "lording" exist for one moment before the realities of the self-abnegation and voluntary sufferings of the Son of God? And how can men, mere men, who have understood, really understood these things, presume to take on "airs and graces?" Such an attitude is obscene!

So, to understand the gospel of the humiliation of the Lord of Glory is to see that the whole counsel of God is permeated with the gospel of humiliation. And such an understanding will inform all our handling of all biblical truth.

The effect of this will be that we will, as ministers of the gospel, relate all the truth of our preaching to the person, work and example of the Lord Jesus Christ. And this is exactly what Paul does, and does with an expertise par excellence! Does he call for a forgiving, forbearing spirit among Christians? Then he does so from the truth of the gospel, cf. Eph. 4:32. Does he call us to walk in love? Then he calls us to consider the sacrifice of Christ to God, cf. Eph. 5:1. Does he require husbands to love their wives? Then he makes this requirement hinge on Christ's love and sacrificial death for the church, cf. Eph. 5:25ff. Does Paul exhort us to humility and self-sacrifice? The exhortation is rooted in one of the grandest declarations of Christ's humiliation to be found anywhere, cf. Phil. 2:1-8. And on and on ...

In fact, every call to Christian living found in the writings of Paul is rooted and grounded in the facts of redemptive accomplishment already expounded by him, cf. Ephesians 4:1-6:20 in relation to the first three chapters of the same letter. Consider as well Romans 12:1-15:13 in its relationship to the first eleven chapters of Paul's epistle. All of this has been succinctly expressed in the statement: The ethical imperatives of the New Testament are rooted in its redemptive indicatives! Which is to say: Christian living is required by the constraining power of the life, death and resurrection of the Lord Jesus Christ.

It is this, the gospel, that secures and maintains Christian joy, and it is Christian joy that secures and maintains the obedience that is really Christian. (Cf., for example, John Piper's book, Desiring God: Confessions of a Christian Hedonist, Multnomah, 1987.) Preaching that would encourage joy must be preaching that understands this!

But there is more. Christian preaching has two focal points: The one, the crucifixion of the Son of God, the other, the final redemption of His second coming and eternal kingdom. Our preaching must be replete with Christian hope. The Christian is a person living in two ages at one and the same time. He has been introduced to the New Creation, cf. 2 Cor. 5:17. But, he is still "absent from the Lord," and, as such, must endure "the sufferings of this present time," cf. Rom. 8:18. In this state, which is a continual state of tension and stress, he "groans," cf. Rom. 8:22,23 with 7:24. His joy, therefore, is of necessity, always threatened!

But, the reality of the hope of Christ's return and the everlasting kingdom that return will bring with Him buoys up and fortifies the Christian's joy. He therefore "rejoices in hope of the glory of God," cf. Rom. 5:2; and "consider(s) that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us," cf. Rom. 8:18. (Cf. also 2 Cor. 4:16-18; 1 Thess. 4:13-5:11; et al.)

The Christian preacher will appreciate these truths deeply. And this appreciation will drive him to preach in a manner that constantly keeps the hope of Christ's coming before the hearts of His people. Such preaching will encourage them, hearten them, and fill them with "joy unspeakable and full of glory," cf. 1 Peter 1:8.

Therefore, in this manner, we who are given the task of "helping them with their joy" will accomplish this work. The result will be wonderful. Christians will be encouraged in the best possible way to live lives that honor and please (read, "give pleasure to") the Lord who bought them. Peace will characterize our churches. And pastors, some of the most harried and stressed-out professionals in our modern world, can begin to take joy in their ministries. But, where joy is absent, these and other good things like them, will, likewise, be absent. Holiness will turn into the sludge of legal obedience. Trouble and discord will wreck assemblies. And pastors will be marked by pain, bitterness and cynicism.

This is the Pauline pattern for reforming our ministries. It is the pattern modeled by our Lord Jesus Christ and seen throughout the New Testament. It is distinctively Christian in root and branch. It is the true antidote to ministries which claim to be Christian, but which are, in reality, just another expression of the worldliness that motivates the "ruler of the Gentiles," cf. Matthew 20:25. If those of us who have come to understand and love God's sovereignty in grace could come to understand and love this view of ministry, a new day of grace and peace could well invade our churches and a new work of reformation would result. May the Lord Jesus Christ, the true Helper of our joy, hasten such a day!

Author 

Thomas N. Smith is Pastor of the Randolph Street Baptist Church, Charleston, West Virginia and associate editor of Reformation & Revival Journal.

Wanted: Apathetic Lutherans and Calvinists (No Experience Required)

By Michael S. Horton 

For as God alone can properly bear witness to His own words, so those words cannot obtain full credit in the heart until they are sealed by the inward testimony of the Spirit. The same Spirit who spoke by the mouth of the prophets must penetrate our hearts, in order to convince us that they faithfully delivered the message with which they were divinely entrusted. - John Calvin 

Religious muddle around us is frantic and furious. How urgently we need, in these days, to get clear about the Holy Spirit! - J.I. Packer 

About seventeen years ago, my brother, then an assistant football coach at Arizona State University, introduced me to Danny White, who was at the time the star quarterback for the Sun Devils. I was only twelve years old and in awe of White. Meeting him was one of those moments when you are aware of every movement you make, of every nervous gesture. As we walked toward him on the football field where he was running, I would feel my feet become lead. Fear gripped me and I almost wanted to go back, but there was no turning back now. With a dry throat and clumsy handshake I met White - just when my brother announced that he needed to take care of some business with the trainer. So here we were, Danny White and this awkward teenager who was unusually short on words. But Danny immediately broke the tension when he said, "Hey, Horts, how about a few passes?" "What's he talking about?" I wondered, concerning what would be a fairly straightforward invitation were I not so nervous. "You mean passes to a game?" "No," he replied, "I mean throwing some passes here on the field for awhile;" For the next twenty minutes or so there we were, Danny White and Mike Horton, throwing the ball around and getting to know each other - not just as a fan gets to know a hero by following his career, but as one person gets to know another.

Since then, I have had the opportunity to meet some other people who make me feel pretty nervous: other sports stars, actors, writers, and a few foreign dignitaries. But no meeting presents a greater challenge than when we meet God in the person of the Holy Spirit. It is a wonderful opportunity, to be sure, but it is also a challenge. We do just fine in the stands, shaking our heads at the unbelievable skill and energy of the Holy Spirit, and we follow His work closely through the years. But to actually meet Him? To get to know Him, not just as an awestruck fan meets a celebrity, but as two friends out on the field together? We often find such intimacy beyond what we can (or should even attempt to) reach. But it is at God's invitation that we leave the stands, walk out to the field, and befriend Him through the person of the Holy Spirit.

God the Father longs to have a relationship with us. He loved the world so much that "He gave His one and only Son" so long ago to save us. When God the Son took on flesh, suffered, died, and rose again, He brought us everlasting peace with God. If it were not for the Holy Spirit, we would still be up in the stands, unrelated to God as anything other than an admiring fan. It is through God the Holy Spirit that the Father's initiative in Christ - adoption and reconciliation - is finally fulfilled. It is He who brings us into the benefits planned for us by the Father and purchased for us by the Son.

The Reformation tradition, while eschewing the fanaticism of  "those who think they've swallowed the Holy Spirit, feathers and all" (Luther's phrase), recovered the legitimate biblical teaching concerning the Spirit by focusing their lens once again on His role as the one who reveals Christ, illumines our souls to understand the Word, and enables us to believe it and to repent of everything that stands up to challenge it. In fact, Calvin has been called "the theologian of the Holy Spirit," not, of course, because he instructed the third person of the Trinity, but because so much of his emphasis falls on the work of the Holy Spirit in bringing us into union with Christ and communicating to us the benefits of that union. In the remainder of this article, I want to challenge us all to return to the classical doctrine of the Trinity as we attempt to recover what we who claim to be heirs of the Reformation have lost concerning the person and work of the Holy Spirit in our day.

Back to the Trinity 

There is only one God. On that Christians and Jews (as well as Muslims) are agreed. But the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God. Yet, there are not three Gods, but one. The biblical writers do not explain this apparent contradiction, but affirm it nonetheless. In the second century, the church father Tertullian came up with the phrase, one in essence, three in person and the term trinitas (trinity) was employed for the first time to explain the relationship of those two affirmations: three persons (tri); one God (unity).

And yet, this staggering mystery has proved easier to affirm in public worship than in personal faith. In every age the church seems to carve up the Trinity and emphasize one person of the Godhead above the others. Sometimes this is done to redress imbalances, but it often results in other imbalances.

In our day, many hyper-Calvinists are so fascinated with the sovereignty of God that the person and work of the Son and the Holy Spirit get short shrift, while many hyper-Lutherans and Barthians risk embracing a form of Christomonism, in which the Father and the Spirit are footnotes to the person and work of Christ. Like the sovereignty of God for hyper-Calvinists, justification for hyper-Lutherans can become not only the central doctrine (after all, it must occupy that spot for all evangelicals), but the only doctrine in the system, divesting the biblical message of its fullness, driving the Father and the Spirit into the shadows, and leaving the flock unbalanced and malnourished.

In the meantime, the charismatic movement has brought much attention to the reality of the third person of the Godhead, while often underplaying the study of the divine attributes and the objective character of Christ's person and work. It's not doctrine that concerns most charismatics, as it concerns most Calvinists and Lutherans, but experience. So, the Holy Spirit becomes the central trinitarian figure. Just as the Holy Spirit's person and work can be ignored when we emphasize only the objective side of salvation (the Father and Son's work outside of us in history), so also it is true that the Father's and Son's saving work can be pushed aside in an obsession with the real and alleged experiences and gifts of the Holy Spirit. But for us Reformation Christians, emphasizing the objective character of salvation in the face of so much subjective introspection and emotionalism, we risk keeping the work of Christ external and "outside us." What the Reformers meant by emphasizing Christ's saving work "outside" and "external" to us was that our justification does not refer to inner renewal by the Spirit or the life of Christ within us, but to the once-and-for-all work of Christ for us. Nevertheless, as Calvin wrote, "It is not enough to have Christ working outside of us for our salvation unless this gift becomes ours and is brought into us by the Holy Spirit." There must be a spiritual union with Christ if we are to receive the blessings. There must be faith if we are to be justified, sanctified, and glorified, and this faith we have by virtue of our union with Christ, the gift of the Holy Spirit.

What we desperately need, then, is a return to a practical, real-life, realization of the doctrine of the Trinity in our daily thinking: God the Father so loved the world that He gave Christ to His people and His people to Christ; then the Father and the Son sent the Holy Spirit. If the person and work of any member of the Trinity are overlooked or underplayed then to that degree we will be unbalanced Christians.

The Shy Member of the Trinity 

The Holy Spirit, often called the "shy member of the Trinity" because He does not draw attention to Himself, but chiefly to Christ, is not, therefore, an impersonal "force" or appendage to the Godhead, but the vibrant, life-giving, renewing partner of the Father and the Son, whose essence He shares. As the Father has assigned to the Son a name which is above every other name, so Jesus Himself declared, "It is good that I go, for if I go I will send the Comforter." In other words, Jesus measures the importance of the Holy Spirit's coming by the fact that it will compensate for the loss of His leaving. But our Lord further states, "It is He who testifies concerning Me." The Holy Spirit is essential in the redemptive mission, but He does not "blow His own horn." Rather, He trumpets the glories of Christ's person and work. I worry that the charismatic movement, generally speaking, misses this chief role of the Holy Spirit by trying to make Him the center of attention. The Holy Spirit refuses to be center stage, and any group or movement that seeks to put Him there gravely misses the point of His mission.

But if our Reformation tradition has erred, especially of late - and it has - it has been on the side of denying experience, subjectivity, emotion, and the application of redemption. Sanctification, inner renewal, life in the Spirit, victory over sin - because these have been so emphasized, twisted, disfigured, misinterpreted and misapplied in our day, we risk becoming cynical about some very holy matters, quenching the same Spirit who brought us everything Christ purchased for us. While we find it easy (and too often delightful) to apply to charismatics the apostle Paul's lament, "They are zealous for God, but their zeal is not based on knowledge," can anything be said in favor of knowledge without zeal? In fact, which is the more inexcusable offense: serving God in spite of poor theology, or ignoring Him in spite of better?

In every great move of God in His church, reformation (doctrinal purification) and revival (spiritual renewal and awakening) have gone hand-in-hand. In the Reformation, Luther was hardly afraid of the Holy Spirit. The German Reformer wrote,

Without the Holy Spirit hearts are either hardened in sins or they despair .... Now, this is the article which must ever be and remain in operation; for creation is an established fact, and redemption, too, is finished. But the Holy Spirit carries on His work without ceasing until the Last Day .... 

In Calvin's crest there is a hand holding out a heart, with the inscription, "Behold, I offer you my heart, promptly and sincerely." The divorce between doctrine and piety, the mind and the heart, characteristic of both orthodox Reformation folk today on one side and pietists and charismatics on the other, is a course for disaster, not for either reformation or revival.

Reformation without revival can change the way we think, but it will never transform our attitudes, feelings, and actions. It will be a short-lived mid flight correction. Revival without reformation cannot happen in any case, for revival is the sovereign work of the Spirit of God, and He will not bless with revival a church that refuses to conform its teaching and preaching to the Word of God. The First Great Awakening in the eighteenth century was great because it called the colonies back to the Reformation truths and encouraged people to make those truths their own in an experiential, personal way. Combining the mind and the heart, Edwards, Whitefield, and others used the Word of God to bring the whole person into confrontation with the truth and presence of God's Spirit.

Conclusion 

The Heidelberg Catechism has the right idea. After every major doctrine, it asks, "How does this comfort you?" Sometimes we get so caught up in defending particular doctrines and frustrated at being told so often, "But doctrine isn't practical," that we stop trying to answer that question, "How does this comfort you?" Our own tradition calls us back to go beyond rehearsing doctrinal formulae and formal terms - not to ignore them, but to go beyond them, to take these great truths on board and use them in daily life. Further, the Westminster Shorter Catechism answers that the chief end of man is "to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." Glorify, sure. That's a word we orthodox folk can understand. But enjoy? That's a bit too emotional. To experience God is a delight that only children enjoy. Like an awestruck fan, it's more comfortable to glorify God from the stands than to enjoy Him on the field. But let's not settle for anything less than God's very best.

Author 

Michael S. Horton is president of CURE and the author of Made in America and Putting Amazing Back Into Grace. He is editor of the best-sellers The Agony of Deceit and Power Religion. He is presently completing doctoral studies at Wycliffe Hall, Oxford. He serves as an advisory council member for Reformation & Revival Ministries.

Ministering the Grace of God in Pastoral Care

By A. Peter Parkinson

In recent years there has been an increasing trend for the pastor to perceive himself as having a twofold ministry and calling. First, to "preach the gospel," and second, to function in the capacity of a "Christian counselor" specifically ministering to, or targeting, members of his flock perceived to have deep-seated emotional and personal problems. A plethora of books has emerged from the Christian and not-so-Christian press on the subject of "counseling," some of considerable worth, and much of it of a questionable pedigree.

Identifying the true nature of pastoral ministry has been clouded by an unhelpful yet increasing tendency to distinguish between preaching and pastoral ministry. Statements such as,"Well, he is a great pastor but not a very good preacher," or conversely, "He is a fine preacher, but you can't really talk to him, for he is no pastor at all," may frequently be heard in congregations. But here is either a fundamental misunderstanding of the true nature of the pastoral call on the part of the one making the observation, or a fatal flaw in the ministry of the pastor being cited. Such observations are becoming increasingly commonplace.

Doubtless the discernment of the "sheep" in our flocks making such observations is not entirely without credibility, and if this is the case, we may well have to conclude that neither category of person described is functioning in the pastoral role which the Scriptures prescribe.

However, there will doubtless be whiz kids who are both amazing preachers and sheer geniuses when it comes to the "counseling couch!" But if such a breed of "super pastor" really exists who can both preach, and at the same time has developed considerable counseling skills, can we assume that he will be functioning as a pastor should? In other words, what is the pastor's mandate as prescribed in Scripture? How do we find a model upon which we who are pastors can fashion ourselves? How can we ascertain what are the true directives for, and constituent elements of, a biblical pastoral ministry which effectively labors in the grace of God? These are the fundamental questions I wish to address in my writing. We may go on to ask, that if (as for the most of us the case will be) we fall short of the super pastor standards previously described, can we nevertheless, with our severe limitations in both our preaching gifts and our counseling skills, still attain the standards which Scripture prescribes, and thus function adequately as pastors fulfilling our biblical mandate?

We need go no further in search of our model than to consider the pattern of Christ Jesus Himself. It would be inappropriate to look anywhere else. For the pastor is first and foremost a shepherd, an under shepherd to be more precise. Where else should we look for an example of perfect shepherding and pastoral care than to the "Good Shepherd" Himself, the one who is the "Chief Shepherd?" By considering the relationship and the nature of the human ministry which Jesus exercised toward His little ones, we will discover the requirement that must be made of any "under shepherd."

As soon as we begin the comparison, we will come up against enormous problems, for we discover that in Jesus' interactions with His fellow man; He functions on what seems to be a totally different plain than us. His understanding, His perception, His self control, His dignity, His great intellect, wit, and sheer incomparable grace, leave us reeling with a sense of hopeless inadequacy before a man whom we can never hope to emulate. Even our fictitious super pastors would be "left at the starting gate" in the presence of this man.

Some would insist that this great gulf exists because He is essentially so "wholly other," and that this "wholly otherness" exists because unlike us He is no ordinary man, for He is the God man. His possession of Godhood, His uniqueness, equips Him with graces and gifts which make His pastoral abilities unattainable to us mere mortals. It may seem, for instance, that His extraordinary knowledge of human beings is the direct consequence of His omniscience. God is omniscient; therefore as God, it would be argued, He must possess the incommunicable attribute of omniscience. Thus He must have limitless knowledge, and this omniscience enables Him to have complete knowledge of the mind, being, and circumstances of His fellow human beings.

Such a deduction is, I suggest, both wholly misguided and theologically unacceptable. For such reasoning would wreck beyond salvage the biblical doctrine of His "sympathetic priesthood." Moreover, such a notion of Christ Jesus would irreparably impugn the reality of His temptation, and, for that matter, of His sufferings. It would plunge us into an ultimate denial of the genuineness of His humanity. In a justifiable preoccupation with defending His deity, we may come, and without doubt have come, dangerously close to undermining the fullness of His humanity. For most certainly the human Jesus could well be, at best, "a little differently human" to us; at worst, He would be the possessor of a humanity almost "totally different" from ours.

We have to recognize that the tendency toward docetism is undeniably present in the emphasis of both the preaching and practice of evangelical Christianity. It may also be asked whether this emphasis has been the indirect cause for so much abuse of the pastoral office. The dehumanization of the pastoral ministry, too commonly reported, may well be a direct consequence of the dehumanization of the Chief Shepherd Himself!

We must assert that our "elder brother" truly shares in our humanity (Heb. 2:11;14), not a "special version" of our humanity, but our genuine true humanity lived out in all its glories and with all its weaknesses. Unless we insist upon this assertion, then we do not have an elder brother at all, and we do not have anyone who can mediate for us as our representative (Heb. 4:15).

The question with which the pastor will be confronted, and potentially confounded, if we accept the true and full humanity of Jesus, is this: How do we explain the great gulf between us and our Chief Shepherd? If Jesus Christ shares the same humanity as us, why does He succeed in ministering on such a higher plain? Why are we so vastly inferior to Him in our shepherding ministry? What inhibits us from attaining the levels of perfection that He always attained, and still attains?

What prevents us understanding, sympathizing with, and perceiving the needs of others as Jesus does? What inhibits our discernment concerning the hearts and souls of our brethren? It is not our lack of "Godhood." No! It is nothing other than our own sinfulness. To put it another way, He, our elder brother, the Good Shepherd, is enabled to comprehend the needs of His flock, not by virtue of His Godhood, but by virtue of His having an infinitely more tender heart than ours. This tenderness may be perceived in two ways. First, in the perfection of His love for the Father, and second, in the perfection of His love for His sheep. In other words, His perfection in pastoring arises from nothing more than the perfection of His love. This love is the foundation upon which we must build any consideration of the role and function of pastoral ministry. Skills of counseling and eloquence in preaching are in fact irrelevant to the validity and true worth of our ministries as under shepherds. They are little more than window dressing. Faithful pastoral ministry will all come down to this one thing, conformity to Christ, i.e., Christlikeness. This may be summed up as "loving the Father as He loved the Father; loving His own (the sheep) as He loved His own."

The pastor who loves his flock will be the faithful pastor, the preacher who loves his people will be the effective preacher. He will be the acceptable minister, his will be an appropriate ministry, his will be both a Christ-honoring and member-edifying ministry of the Word of God.

Therefore, the foremost qualification for effective pastoral ministry is love. Love for the Father, love for the Good Shepherd, love for the sheep. In other words, "the love of God shed abroad in our hearts."

This does not mean that the psychologist or the therapist has no contribution to make in assisting us to understand and effectively help our people with their human problems and dilemmas. What it does mean is that the acquiring of knowledge, even knowledge wedded to considerable counseling expertise, will not make a pastor. It may make a good counselor or an effective Christian therapist, but that is not even the beginning of being an effective pastor. There may be a time when the sheep need the attention of a veterinarian. His skills may be called upon to assist in the diagnosis of a condition and in the prescription of a cure. Therefore, the responsible shepherd will not hesitate to call upon such an expert when skills different than, and beyond, his own are clearly needed. The shepherd will be thankful to have the skills of such a person to help him in the care of his beloved sheep, but the services of the "professional" will very quickly be dispensed with, and his presence will no longer be needed. Moreover, whatever the skills and abilities of the "called-in consultant," it will not be his voice whom the sheep will recognize, and not his presence which will inspire their confidence, and not his person whom they will follow, but that of their shepherd.

Where then do we turn to actually delineate this pastoral ministry in practical terms? Well, we must try to recapture the reality of the Jesus of history, the man Christ Jesus. The only place to go to discover Him is in the inspired pages of Holy Scripture, and in particular in those all-too-neglected, yet truly remarkable, Gospel narratives. For here more than anywhere else the real Jesus springs to life from the sacred page, and the same Spirit who inspired the writers of the Gospels inspires the devoted and believing heart who searches the Word in search of the living Word.

Our task will be very simply to look at Christ Jesus. For Him to be our Pastor, our Good Pastor, it was necessary to become one with us, to become one of us. Only then could He sympathize with us, and understand us. To achieve this, God in Christ, as the late John Murray so wonderfully described, "Became what He eternally was not, whilst not ceasing to be what He eternally was" (from a sermon on Phil. 2).

He came onto our level as our Shepherd; He lived with us as one of us; He walked and talked with us; He became truly one of us, one with us. As Professor Donald Garlington once put it in a sermon describing the Good Shepherd, "He even came to smell like us." He came to imbibe every facet of true God-created humanity.

Lack of involvement, failure to identify with, or even an aloofness from the flock, are all an utter travesty of the pastoral call, yet probably one of the shortcomings most commonly complained about by our people. Time and again Christians observe, with some justification, how their pastors seem to function from their ivory towers of study and pulpit, and drift ever further away from the "real" world in which their members live day by day. The syndrome of the man who has gone from school to college to university to theological seminary through ordination into the pastoral ministry is not uncommon. It is surely not unreasonable to question the ability of such men to really understand the struggles and trials, problems and frustrations, of those who earn their living in frequently unattractive work places. It is not at all surprising that such pastors are often either hard pressed, or wholly unable to earn and retain the respect and confidence of their flocks since they are worlds apart.

To pastor our people, or rather more correctly "His people," we must be one with them, one of them; we must walk with them, talk with them. We must meet the craftsman in his workplace to appreciate his work, and to appreciate him. We must know the doctor in his surgery or his hospital to comprehend his stress, we must discover the businessman in the hectic stressful life of commercial pressure, and be interested in hearing of the numerous crises that he continually faces, if we are going to meaningfully befriend him. We must encounter the mother in the inescapable toil of her home to understand her weariness. Kneeling, we must look into the eyes of the wheelchair-bound brother or sister, so that as they look down to us, we may engage in genuinely interested and compassionate conversation. We must stand by the open grave with our mourning brethren and do nothing more than just weep with them. We must stand before one of our beloved members, or maybe their children, found out in their grievous sinfulness, and as their blushing face of shame awaits our reproof or condemnation, with tear-filled eyes we must declare, "Neither do I condemn you!" When such a spirit becomes our pastoral clothing, then we shall begin to approach something of the nature and disposition of the Good Shepherd Himself. Then we shall begin to learn what biblical pastoral ministry in grace is all about. Here we are leaving behind the traditional stereotyped world of the counselor and the therapist, here we are entering into a wholly new and radically different dimension of human relationship and ministry which the "professional" knows little or nothing about. Here we are entering into that incredible dimension of ministry which might be described as Christ-like service, the under shepherding ministry of true humble service. We see something of this pattern in John 13:1-17 where our Savior dons the humblest garb of all, and kneeling down before His beloved disciples, washes their feet.

Let us look a little more carefully at the life and ministry of Christ, and see whether these assertions we are making are indeed justified. We never find Him exercising the role of consultant to client, of doctor to patient. He is never the professional approaching his "case," but rather always the elder brother, the friend, the beloved one.

Perceive further that at no time do we find Jesus lording it over His flock. His relationship is one of service and ministry. He lives for them, His delight is to serve them, to care for them, to preserve them from danger and evil. His glorious high priestly prayer recorded in John 17  makes this overriding concern and compassion for His lambs unmistakably clear. We read in verse eleven, "Holy Father, protect them by the power of Your name," and in verse fifteen, "My prayer is not that You take them out of the world but that You protect them from the Evil One." So we could go on; the whole prayer overflows with expressions of love and compassion for His little ones. He pleads their cause at the Father's throne, and He pleads for them as His own, and as the Father's own. He identifies with them and stands undeniably and inseparably as "their man" and as "their elder brother." In His counseling, He is not unduly prescriptive, but explorative, letting them ask the questions. He even asks questions, and invariably He does not give plain answers, but rather demands that they discover for themselves the great and glorious truths of their relationship to Him, including the costs of discipleship.

One could not overestimate or exaggerate the value of simply going through the Gospels systematically to examine the way in which Jesus dealt with people on a pastoral level. Observe His relationship with them, theirs to Him; His response to them, theirs to Him; the way He addresses their problems, and the way He answers their questions. A brief consideration of a selection of instances must suffice for us here, but a fuller analysis will provide the reader with ideal material for reflection and soul searching, and the ideal measure and example for us to follow.

We shall illustrate the pastoral ministry of Christ by simply citing six real life examples from the Gospel accounts.

First, consider His dealing with a woman found in gross immorality, whose condition is such that no pretense is possible, who finds herself inevitably judged by a "moral" community (John 8:1-11). The text gives us no intimation whatsoever that the woman is repentant. She is simply "caught" (vv. 3-4)! It is no surprise to us, and wasn't to the Jews of His time, that He did not commence to stone the woman. Indeed, that is why they had brought her to Him: they correctly anticipated His unwillingness to deal with her brutally. They had come to expect "mercy" to be that quality which this prophet would demonstrate when confronted by sinners. But what does come as a surprise is Jesus' words to the woman. For He who was and is "the Word made flesh," He who was the giver of the law, says to this woman who has so blatantly broken the law, "Neither do I condemn you." He does not simply offer forgiveness. What He does is more radical than this. He declares that He does not even "condemn" her. In no way does He acknowledge the acceptability of her sin, but what He appears to be stating is that He so understands the plight of her circumstances and her weakness of humanity, that He also understands why and how she has fallen into such a terrible condition. His final words are a glorious expression of hope, mercy and grace when He says, "No, go and leave your life of sin." Words pregnant with love, mercy, tenderness and understanding, and with extraordinary assurance and encouragement. She is dragged before Him as a whore, and she leaves as a lady! Dare any under shepherd show any less mercy in the face of even the grossest sin? Does this man, our elder brother and our senior shepherd and minister, not make the most rigorous and radical demands upon our perception of what is appropriate, pastoral, and ethical conduct?

In today's climate of legalistic orthodoxy, it takes a courageous man to follow the Savior in such radical acceptance of sinners.

Second, let us consider Jesus' pastoral ministry in a completely different context. Consider how He handles being confronted by a repulsive and highly contagious physical disease. Reflect upon His response to a human being suffering from an illness from which anyone would naturally recoil, and with which anyone would want to avoid physical contact. The disease is leprosy, and in particular I refer to the story of the leper in Matthew 8:1-4. The man is said to be in desperation, hoping intently and passionately for healing, when he comes and kneels before Jesus. He makes a sincere request, not doubting Jesus' ability, but questioning Jesus' willingness. He says: "Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean" (v. 2)! The response of our Lord is glorious. He reaches out and touches the man (v. 3). The untouchable is touched. He breaks all the rules, He ignores the accepted and expected code of conduct for safe interaction with these people. For the first time since His illness commenced the man feels the touch of a non-leper. Think of this. And as He touches the man, Jesus utters these words: "I am willing." This is glorious. "I am willing!" These words are full of compassion and pity. The whole scene - the touch and the verbal response - is one of incredible tenderness, crowned with, "Be clean." You see, the accepted mode of social conduct is dispensed with, for the plight of the man is addressed. Jesus doesn't simply address the physical condition by healing. He meets the man as a person. The touch is all important, and in some senses almost more important than the actual healing. For it is in the touch that the real depth of pastoral love and compassion is expressed,maybe even more than in the healing itself.

This unmistakable readiness to touch the untouchable, to initiate a physical contact with those whose condition or circumstances have rendered them "outcasts," rejected by respectable society, is the very action which Jesus demands of His shepherds. Here we find ourselves thrust into a most unwelcome and undesirable sphere of service. At this point we will find we have long ago lost the professionals, and with them most of the super pastors.

We may not be able to heal - that matters little, actually - but we can in our pastoral capacity "reach out and touch" those in need and pain. But it is not "the done thing" to touch untouchables, any more today than in the time of Jesus. But here is a biblical ministry of grace at work.

Third, reflect upon Jesus' response to an upstanding, well-respected member of society who makes what may have been a rather pretentious profession of intent (Matt. 8:19-20). A teacher of the law declares that he will "follow" Christ wherever He goes (v. 19). The hearers may have been impressed, and Jesus' reply is quite wonderful. He does not openly mock or demean the man. In fact, His answer achieves two totally different and remarkable effects. First, the onlooking bystanders hear a truly moving testimony to what obedience to God's call has cost Jesus. In other words they hear what discipleship means to the Savior (v. 20). "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head." However, to the questioner, Jesus is saying something totally different. He is saying, "Are you really ready to follow Me everywhere? Now go and consider again whether you are truly ready and willing to be My disciple." There is tenderness here, there is remarkable perception and understanding of the man's heart. Jesus on the one hand recognizes a genuine, though superficial, sincerity, and deals with him with great tenderness, and yet the man has the brutal and cutting reality of discipleship indelibly emblazoned onto his mind for ever. He can leave with dignity, and He knows what following this teacher will actually mean. Nevertheless, if he should decide to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, he will spend the rest of his whole life learning the cost of discipleship.

How easily and with what justification Jesus could have humiliated this man, exposing his ignorance and his shallowness, maybe even his insincerity. Yet it almost seems that Jesus hides the man's sin from others, while at the same time exposing his sin to the man himself. Here are kindness, discretion, gentleness and grace, but also inescapable truth shining with blinding clarity into the eyes of the man - the truth of his own sinfulness and of his unwillingness to really accept the cost of discipleship. 

Fourth, consider the case of a very wealthy and well-behaved young man. He has a high opinion of himself, but he has a genuine spiritual interest and a real concern for the welfare of his soul. Mark's account is helpful (10:17-23). Here is a picture of an ardent and sincere young man, troubled in soul as he seeks to make his peace with God. In verse seventeen the picture of this meeting is set for us. The man runs to Christ, falls on his knees and addresses Jesus. His question reveals discernment but not faith: "Good teacher" - but not "Lord. " Jesus even takes the innocence of his question and uses that as a means of revealing His true identity to this young man (v. 18). "Why do you call Me good? No one is good - except God alone." Here, if only the man would pause and think was Jesus' revelation of Himself. Then Jesus reels off the commands the man has kept and awaits the self-justifying response which still fails to bring the young man peace. Then Jesus next speaks with great compassion and earnestness. The text clearly expresses the heart of our Lord when we read, "Jesus looked at him and loved him" (v. 21). He looked with love and tenderness on this troubled soul, and the heart of Jesus reaches out toward the lad. Jesus' answer is devastating. He places heaven within the man's grasp. He sees into his heart, and perceives that the real struggle is between his love.for riches and his love for God. But just as tragically He sees that this is a young man utterly bereft of any real compassion for others and, in particular, wholly unconcerned with the plight of the many desperately poor people who thronged the streets of the city in which he lived in such opulence. In addressing the young man, Jesus comes straight to the one issue which will expose his greatest weakness, and the place where he is the most vulnerable. With devastating authority Jesus says, "One thing you lack. Go and sell· everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow Me" (v. 21). Jesus is literally saying to him, "Young man, I will gladly receive you, for I do most surely and truly love you; but you must be rid of the idolatry which your wealth has occasioned. That really must go. You see, for all your earnestness you neither love God nor your neighbor, so the law you so confidently claim to have kept, you have in fact broken at every point."

The young man was clearly devastated, but he would have a lifetime to contemplate the Savior's words. There was in Jesus' words truthfulness, yet tenderness. There is plainly no compromise with the truth, but just as plainly there is no hiding of love either. What a far cry this is from the appalling and wholly unjustified tendency of our generation in which the rich rarely hear forthright pastoral counsel, but rather flattering compliments from pastors fearful of having much-appreciated funds denied. There are few exceedingly rich and powerful people who have the grace to sit humbly under faithful pastoral ministry, and probably far too few pastors who have either the conviction or the courage to speak the truth in love to such men.

Fifth, look at Jesus' response to blind Bartimaeus. Here was a poor and despised beggar, embarrassingly loud and coarse, enjoying the respect of few men and looked down on by all (Mark 10:46-52). Jesus is accompanied by large crowds, Bartimaeus has heard of Jesus' miracle-working abilities, and simply begins to shout at the top of his voice, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me" (v. 47). His screams are met with embarrassed and irritated rebukes from the crowd. Jesus' response is to stop and ask for him to be brought to Him (v. 49). The text throws us into the emotion and excitement of the occasion with the members of the crowd saying, "Cheer up! On your feet! He is calling you!" The whole encounter contains the ine"capable feel that this man was a real character, and the people, in spite of being rather irritated by him, have some affection for him. Jesus' question is wonderful: "What do you want Me to do?" (v. 51). This man did not have one ounce of subtlety in his entire being. Jesus knew that, but He had compassion and love for him all the same. This was no blind man seeking spiritual blessing, or forgiveness for his sins. This was a blind man who just wanted to see. His response is great "I want to see" (v. 51). Jesus simply heals him. "Go, your faith has healed you" (v. 52). Jesus shows to the crowd and to Bartimaeus that while there was little seeming spirituality in this man, yet there was faith. Faith in Jesus, and a faith to which Jesus responded. Love resulted in the man not only gaining his Sight, but in following Jesus. Here we see the inescapable, no nonsense, response of compassion allied to intense humanity.

Let our final illustration come from Luke 7:36-50. Here we have the account of the woman anointing Jesus' feet. We know from the story that this woman was a sinful woman (v.37). He puts it like this: "When a woman who had lived a sinful life ...." Whatever her past, the fact is, she loved Jesus with a pure love, and she loved Him with all her heart. But she chooses the most inappropriate way imaginable to express her love. The scene can easily be pictured: Jesus reclining at the table, the woman making a spectacle of herself, and the respectable Pharisee and his guests bewildered and most profoundly embarrassed, not knowing where to run their eyes. They were totally confused by Jesus allowing this very sensual and intimate act of affection to take place at all. The Pharisee said to himself, "If this man were a prophet, He would know who is touching Him and what kind of woman she is - that she is a sinner" (7:39).

Jesus addresses this man very directly, and strongly. He relates a story of two men with debts to pay to a moneylender. Both have their debts forgiven. One had a rather small debt, the other a huge one. Jesus then asks, "Now which of them will love him [the moneylender] more?" (v.42). When the answer is "the one who had the bigger debt" (v. 43), Jesus turns toward the woman and commends her actions, including the emotional and public displays of affection that she has just shown. He adds, "Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven - for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little" (v. 47).

This is amazing, for in that statement He cuts right through the act, and addresses the intent. Moreover He draws attention to the incredible, unperceived significance of the act. He treats her with appreciation, with dignity, with affection and with the greatest honor, and unashamedly defends her from those who would criticize her.

Further examination of encounter after encounter will reveal yet more of this extraordinary person. Jesus is a man of compassion, of tenderness, of mercy, of kindness, of gentleness, of grace. His very actions and attitudes define grace! He is one who seems at times almost blind to the failings and inconsistencies of some of the weak souls to whom He ministered. Here is one who can see holiness in a whore, truthfulness in a thief, His heavenly Father's image in even the worst of sinners, and He clearly sees all men as His brethren.

How then do we transpose the reality of the Good Shepherd that we find in the Gospel narratives, to the pastoral office which we strive to fulfill so inadequately in our day?

The pastor must first be a servant of Christ and a servant of Christ's flock. The church doesn't exist for the minister or to serve the pastor and his office; rather the pastor exists to serve the church. The church does not belong to the pastor, the church belongs to Christ. The pastor is the under shepherd. As such we must say, woe to those pastors who exploit, or who without due honor for the flock; lord it over the lambs of Christ. It is not right for any under shepherd to ever deal more severely with any child of God than the Chief Shepherd would deal.

If a pastor must fall into error, let him err on the side of meekness rather than of exaltation of his office. Let him err on the side of humility rather than· pride, of forgiveness rather than judgment, of patience rather than swift action, of blindness to faults rather than a preoccupation with discovering and exposing wrongs within the flock of Christ.

Pastoral ministry should have as its chief objective the encouragement and sustenance of the flock of Christ. The pastor who fails to encourage and sustain has failed in the very fundamental function of his call. The man who succeeds in discouraging or disillusioning the flock of Christ has aptly qualified for the post of "hired hand" (John 10:13), an all-too-common phenomenon for our churches to tolerate.

That which drives the pastor to be a true pastor should above all else be love. All pastoral counsel should be given in love and out of love for the person being helped.

In the counseling ministry the under shepherd must bear one vital truth in his mind. He has no right to intrude into the life, mind or soul of any member of his flock, unless he is requested to do so through advice or personal help. And even when he is asked for counsel, he must exercise the greatest care and treat his flock with the greatest honor and respect in this regard. It is not always helpful to encourage God's people to "tell all" to their pastor, even in confidence. The only person who our flock should ultimately be encouraged to trust with their deepest and innermost feelings and thoughts is the Good Shepherd Himself. We do a great disservice to our people when we encourage them to drop their guard and trust us without reserve. We do them the greatest service when we point them to Christ and encourage them to find in Him alone their all-sufficient counselor and shepherd.

There is evident in the pastoral ministry of Jesus a vital two-fold element. First, in dealing with others He was always completely and intensely human. He was disarmingly approachable, clearly unthreatening and indisputably affectionate. Second, in His relationship with others He clearly regarded everyone as His fellow human being, His brother, the bearer of the image of His Father in heaven, the object of His Father's love, and, as such, each person was a being who deserved to be treated with the utmost dignity and respect by virtue of his God-createdness. All were His brethren in this Significant sense. This humanity must be the hallmark of any faithful pastoral ministry carried out in the grace of Christ the Savior. This humanity is, indeed, the hallmark of a biblical pastoral ministry.

In the preaching ministry the pastor should have as his great driving force his love for God and his love for the people to whom God has called him to minister. Love will demand that he prepare laboriously week after week; love will drive him on through all the discouragements; love will make sure that his reproofs, his corrections, encouragements and his pleadings, are all done in the spirit of meekness and gentleness. And when all is said and done, love will ensure that Christ Jesus Himself will be the chief and final end of his preaching ministry.

The pastor must watch and guard his own heart. How easily he can exploit his flock for his own ends, create dependence for the bolstering of his own ego, or build up his own confidence through the church.

There is one sure way for the under shepherd to guard his soul, and ensure that he functions as Christ Jesus would have him to do. That is very simply to ensure that his daily walk of faith keeps him in the closest proximity to Christ Himself. Such a walk is facilitated as every pastor knows, or will soon come to know, by a daily life of prayer and meditation, a constant and daily contemplation of Scripture, but particularly a constant immersion of mind and soul in those Gospel narratives which reveal Jesus to us. This is a daily acquaintance and encounter with the reality of the historical Jesus Himself. Only then shall we never fail to show mercy and kindness where He would show such grace, that we never withhold forgiveness from those He would gladly forgive.

The beginning and the end of the pastoral vocation is this: to know Christ Jesus, and in knowing Him to then strive with all our being to be like Him; and in striving to be like Him, to love Him; and in loving Him to love those whom He has entrusted to our care.

Author 

A. Peter Parkinson serves as pastor of Leeds Reformed Baptist Church, Leeds, England. He is director of the ministry Caring for Life, which is a work of compassion and care for young people.