Good News, Ordinary Pastor! You Don’t Need a Winning Personality

All men are created equal. No two men are equally created. On one hand, all people are created in God’s image and every believer enjoys full status as God’s adopted child in union with Christ. On the other hand, our sovereign Creator never employs a single-use template of individuality when designing each of us.

We don’t live long on this earth before we are stung by the sheer “unfairness” of such divinely ordered differentiation. At an early age we come to envy the superior strength, height, speed, or appearance of another boy. It takes longer, but the realization dawns soon enough that we are not as mentally astute, gregarious, witty, or charismatic as some of our peers.

In time such insights inform our self-assessment of pastoral capacity. First, I discern that God did not endow me with the most winning personality. Then I perceive that my personality limits the effectiveness of my ministry as an under-shepherd of God’s flock. I don’t want it to, but it does, and will continue to do so. For us duller types, this realization is a sting that keeps on stinging.

You naturally attain such insight by comparing yourself with more gifted pastors. This reality also slaps you in the face as members of your flock inform you by various ways and means that your personality does not compare favorably with other pastors they have known, or know about, or imagine they know about. They tell you in ways overt and covert that if only you had a more winsome personality the church would thrive or thrive more. Though hard to receive, you know such critique is not entirely devoid of truth. Hey, sometimes you even find yourself boring!

The good news for the unspectacular pastor is this: “winning personality” is not found in the list of pastoral qualifications in 1 Timothy 3 or Titus 1. What is writ large over those passages is character not charisma, faithfulness not magnetism, love for God’s people not an alluring persona. Yes, you must earn the flock’s trust. They must know that you are for them and steadfastly love them. It is not essential, however, that they find you charming, hilarious, dashing, or uniquely winsome. It’s less important that they want to hang out with you. It’s of utmost importance that they know you love God and that with warm zeal and welcoming invitation you long for them to follow Jesus with you all the way to glory (Col 1:28-29).

That said, how should we duller types respond to the debilitating effects of our prosaic constitutions?

First, rejoice!

Be happy, dull guy! God made you with sovereign purpose and fitted you with all the gifts necessary to fulfill any ministry he assigns to you. Might not a more charismatic man do a better job shepherding the flock you oversee? Only if the Chief Shepherd assigns that task to him. If Christ has commissioned you to shepherd a particular flock, rest in his sovereign purposes and faithfully lead that flock with all the love and skill God grants you. Refuse to cast envious eyes on the success of a more winsome shepherd. Weed jealousy from your soul. Stay focused on your standing in Christ. Fulfill the stewardship he has entrusted to you.

Second, recognize that pastors with winning personalities face temptations we duller types seldom do.

While unspectacular pastors tend to struggle with envy or self-pity, those with outsized personalities tend to struggle with prideful self-dependence and a dismissive spirit toward average souls. While they attract more enchanted followers, they also tend to leave more wounded sheep in their wake. Such observations are of scant consolation to those of us who would happily lug about the burden of a heavier backpack of charisma, yet there is grace to celebrate wherever we are spared temptation.

Third, refuse to settle.

We duller types must not settle for pedestrian personalities. As you attend your heart, continue to analyze whether any aspect of your humdrum persona is rooted in laziness, selfishness, ingratitude, the fear of man, self-pity, a lack of love for others, or the like. If you are actively rooting out sin and progressing in Christlikeness, your persona will certainly improve. Don’t settle. Keeping growing.

Fourth, learn to trust the power of Word and Spirit to accomplish what a winning personality never could.

There are some freakishly gifted pastors out there whose personalities serve like a lamp to bugs on a summer night. But remember that while their winsomeness may attract more attention and open more doors of opportunity than you will ever experience, their gifting is incapable of effecting sanctification in the lives of Christ’s flock. The church is formed and purified by Word and Spirit alone. So preach the Word persistently and faithfully. Depend upon the Spirit to save and sanctify souls, remembering McCheyne’s maxim: “It is not great talents God blesses so much as great likeness to Jesus. A holy minister is an awful weapon in the hand of God” (R. M. McCheyne to Dan Edwards, Oct 2, 1840).

Ordinary pastors have a unique privilege to revel in the truth that “God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world . . . so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor 1:27-29). We duller ones can uniquely revel in the truth that we hold the treasure of the gospel “in jars of clay” so as “to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Cor 4:7). That, ordinary pastor, is your glory: to see God work his surpassing power in and through your ministry despite your clay-pot-like weaknesses, or even because of them.

The Spirit uses ordinary means of grace to accomplish extraordinary works, and Christ uses ordinary stewards of that grace to broker extraordinary influence for his kingdom. Such lasting achievement is never effected by the power of one’s personality. Ever. It is effected only by the power of the living God to save and transform souls. Before his eternal throne, and in his glorious presence, we will boast only of him. Forever.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the 9Marks blog and is used with permission.



Pastor, Don’t Avoid Uncomfortable Topics

Few pastors jump at the chance to preach a sermon on sexuality.

I certainly didn’t. When I saw my name on our church’s preaching schedule attached to the topic, “Wisdom in Sexuality (Proverbs 5–6),” my first inclination was to try to get out of it. Couldn’t a more seasoned elder at our church take this one?

But I didn’t try to get out of it. I preached the sermon. And I’m glad I did.

Was the room icy as Antarctica as I preached for 40 minutes about God’s wise design for human sexuality? Yes. Was my throat dry as the Sahara as I worked my way through various points about gender complementarity, sexual immorality, and drinking water “from your own cistern” (Prov. 5:15)? Most definitely.

But the feedback I received after preaching the sermon was surprising. Thank you for going there. Thank you for not avoiding such a difficult topic. We need more sermons about this.

Pastors, your people want you to go there. They are hungry for clear, compassionate, biblical teaching on the difficult topics facing our culture and their own families. Sexuality. Gender. Racial reconciliation. Hell. God’s wrath. Tithing. Church discipline. Divorce. Greed and materialism. War and violence. Charismatic gifts. Christ’s exclusivity.

The Bible has things to say about all of these things. And preachers should, too.

Whole Counsel

It takes courage to preach the whole counsel of God. When Paul tells the Ephesian elders, “I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God” (Acts 20:27), he implies there would be reason for some to shrink.

The whole counsel of God is intimidating. Some parts of it are scary—downright offensive in various cultural contexts. Many parts of it are daunting because they are direct; other parts are daunting because they are complex, resistant to simple “three-point sermon” treatment.

Either way, the whole counsel of God—revealed to us in his Word—is challenging to preach. But preach it we must. Otherwise, we as pastors have the blood of our congregations on our hands (Acts 20:26).

Seeker-Sensitive = Inauthentic

The seeker-sensitive approach to church assumes most people don’t want to hear anything uncomfortable from the pulpit on a Sunday morning. People just want feel-good sermons with easy, practical takeaways for personal growth, right? People will run for the exits and never return to church if we preach on difficult topics, right?

I’m not so sure.

As a millennial evangelical who was raised on rather inoffensive sermons and attended “don’t ask difficult questions” youth groups, I actually do want churches to lean in to the tough topics and thorny questions. Many of my peers feel the same way.

The college students I disciple these days aren’t looking for a Christianity that positions itself as nice, inoffensive, easy, and comfortable. This feels false and inauthentic to them. Why? Because it is false and inauthentic.

Christianity is unavoidably costly and uncomfortable. It’s a faith built around a guy who was brutally crucified on a cross and told his followers, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34).

Those aren’t the words of a man who worried about offending the masses.

Hide Not the Offense

We’re naturally tempted to hide the various offenses of Christianity, but as Charles Spurgeon notes, we do so at our peril:

"Hide not the offense of the cross, lest you make it of none effect. The angles and corners of the gospel are its strength: to pare them off is to deprive it of power. Toning down is not the increase of strength, but the death of it."

We don’t need to tone down Scripture or domesticate the gospel. We need to preach it boldly and comprehensively. The people in our pews don’t want to be sold a sanitized, fake Christianity that conveniently affirms them wherever they are and leaves them unstretched and unshaken.

They want the truth—however hard it is to hear.

Editor's Note: This is an adapted excerpt from Brett McCracken’s book, Uncomfortable: The Awkward and Essential Challenge of Christian Community. The adaptation was originally posted at TGC.



Spurgeon on Pastoral Transitions

Founded in 1652, the New Park Street Chapel had been around for over 200 years when they called 19-year-old Charles Spurgeon to be their pastor in 1854. Like many other churches, this historic Baptist church went through many ups and downs throughout its long history. Reflecting on those pastoral transitions, Spurgeon shares nine lessons for pastors and church leaders to consider as they prepare their churches for the next pastor.

Have a Long-Term View of the Ministry of the Church

I am told that my venerable predecessor, Dr. Rippon, used often, in his pulpit, to pray for somebody, of whom he knew nothing, who would follow him in the ministry of the church, and greatly increase it. He seemed to have in his mind’s eye some young man, who, in after years, would greatly enlarge the number of the flock, and he often prayed for him. He died, and passed away to Heaven, a year or two after I was born. Older members of the church have told me that they have read the answer to Dr. Rippon’s prayers in the blessing that has been given to us these many years.[1]

Consider Whether there is a Qualified Pastor Already in the Church

When Mr. Keach was upon his death-bed, he sent for his son-in-law, BENJAMIN STINTON, and solemnly charged him to care for the church which he was about to leave, and especially urged him to accept the pastoral office should it be offered to him by the brethren. Mr. Stinton had already for some years helped his father-in-law in many ways, and therefore he was no new and untried man. It is no small blessing when a church can find her pastors in her own midst; the rule is to look abroad; but, perhaps; if our home gifts were more encouraged, the Holy Spirit would cause our teachers to come forth more frequently from among our own brethren. Still, we cannot forget the proverb about a prophet in his own country. When the church gave Mr. Stinton a pressing invitation, he delayed a while, and gave himself space for serious consideration; but, at length, remembering the dying words of his father-in-law, and feeling himself directed by the Spirit of God, he gave himself up to the ministry, which he faithfully discharged for fourteen years.[2]

Don’t Be Afraid to Hire a Young Pastor, Provided He is Qualified

One of the best things that a church can do is to catch a minister young, and train him for themselves. Some of the happiest and longest pastorates in our denomination commenced with the invitation of a young man from the country to a post for which he was barely qualified. His mistakes were borne with, his efforts were encouraged, and he grew, and the church grew with him. His pastorate continued for many a year, since he was under no temptation to leave for another position, because he felt at home, and could say, like one of old, “I dwell among mine own people.”[3]

Provide Space for Ministerial Training

[Stinton] had great natural gifts, but felt in need of more education, and set himself to work to obtain it as soon as he was settled over the church. To be thoroughly furnished for the great work before him, was his first endeavor. Crosby [a Baptist historian] says of him: — “He was a very painful and laborious minister of the gospel, and though he had not the advantage of an academical education, yet, by his own industry, under the assistance of the famous Mr. Ainsworth (author of the Latin dictionary), after he had taken upon him the ministerial office, he acquired a good degree of knowledge in the languages, and other useful parts of literature, which added luster to those natural endowments which were very conspicuous in him.”[4]

Elders, Lead the Congregation to Pray for God’s Guidance During Transitions and Guard Against Disunity

The loss of its Pastor is always a serious matter to a Baptist church, not only because it is deprived of the services of a well-tried and faithful guide, but because, in the process of selecting a successor, some of the worst points of human nature are apt to come to the front. All may unite in the former Pastor, but where will they find another rallying point? So many men, so many minds. All are not prepared to forego their own predilections, some are ready to be litigious, and a few seize the opportunity to thrust themselves into undue prominence. If they would all wait upon the Lord for His guidance, and consent to follow it when they have obtained it, the matter would move smoothly; but, alas! it is not always so.[5]

Older Pastors, Beware of Hanging on Too Long Without Making Provision for Your Successor

In [John Gill’s] later years, the congregations were sparse, and the membership seriously declined. He was himself only able to preach once on the Sabbath, and living in a rural retreat in Camberwell, he could do but little in the way of overseeing the church. It was thought desirable that some younger minister should be found to act as co-pastor. To this, the Doctor gave a very decided answer in the negative, asserting “that Christ gives pastors, is certain; but that he gives co-pastors, is not so certain.” He even went the length of comparing a church with a co-pastor to a woman who should marry another man while her first husband lived, and call him co-husband. Great men are not always wise. However, by his stern repudiation of any division of his authority, the old gentleman held the reins of power till the age of seventy-four, although the young people gradually dropped off, and the church barely numbered 150 members.[6]

New Pastors, Deal Graciously with Those Who Did Not Vote to Call You

They were agreed that they would write to Bristol for a probationer, and MR. JOHN RIPPON was sent to them. He was a youth of some twenty summers, of a vivacious temperament, quick and bold. The older members judged him to be too young, and too flighty; they even accused him of having gone up the pulpit stairs two steps at a time on some occasion when he was hurried, — a grave offense for which the condemnation could hardly be too severe. He was only a young man, and came from an academy, and this alone was enough to make the sounder and older members afraid of him. He preached for a lengthened time on probation, and finally some forty persons withdrew because they could not agree with the enthusiastic vote by which the majority of the people elected him. John Rippon modestly expressed his wonder that even more had not been dissatisfied, and his surprise that so large a number were agreed to call him to the pastorate. In the spirit of forbearance and brotherly love, he proposed that, as these friends were seceding for conscience sake, and intended to form themselves into another church, they should be lovingly dismissed with prayer and God-speed, and that, as a token of fraternal affection, they should be assisted to build a meeting-house for their own convenience, and the sum of £300 should be voted to them when their church was formed and their meeting-house erected. The promise was redeemed, and Mr. Rippon took part in the ordination service of the first minister. This was well done. Such a course was sure to secure the blessing of God. The church in Dean Street thus became another offshoot from the parent stem, and with varying conditions it remains to this day as the church in Trinity Street, Borough.[7]

Beware of Undertaking Large Projects When an Older Pastor is Unable to Engage It with Energy

In 1830, six years before Dr. Rippon’s death, the old sanctuary in Carter Lane was closed, to be pulled down for making the approaches to the present London Bridge. Due compensation was given, but a chapel could not be built in a day, and, therefore, for three years, the church was without a home, and had to be indebted to the hospitality of other congregations. After so long a time for choice, the good deacons ought to have pitched upon a better site for the new edifice; but it is not judging them hardly when I say that they could not have discovered a worse position. If they had taken thirty years to look about them with the design of burying the church alive, they could not have succeeded better… That God, in infinite mercy, forbade the extinction of the church, is no mitigation of the shortsightedness which thrust a respectable community of Christians into an out-of-the-way position, far more suitable for a tallow-melter’s business than for a meeting-house. The chapel, however, was a neat, handsome, commodious, well-built edifice, and was regarded as one of the best Baptist chapels in London. Dr. Rippon was present at the opening of the new house in 1833, but it was very evident that, having now found a place to meet in, the next step must be to find a minister to preside over the congregation. This was no easy task, for the old gentleman, though still revered and loved, was difficult to manage in such matters.[8]

Persevere in Hope Through Pastoral Transitions

Between Gill and Rippon, the congregation knew only two pastors for 117 years[!], largely to the blessing of the church. After Rippon, however, the New Park Street Chapel experienced three short successive pastorates in 17 years, leading to decline. Yet, it would be amid that decline that God would bless His people with another faithful pastor.

 These changes sadly diminished the church, and marred its union. The clouds gathered heavily, and no sunlight appeared; but the Lord had not forgotten His people, and in due time He poured them out such a blessing that there was not room to receive it.[9]

Not every pastoral transition will result in the calling of a pastor like Spurgeon. But transitions are an opportunity for Christians to remember that regardless of what may happen to this particular local church, Christ’s promise will always stand: “I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (Mt. 16:18).

[1] Autobiography 1:303.

[2] Autobiography 1:306-307.

[3] Autobiography 1:303.

[4] Autobiography 1:307.

[5] Autobiography 1:307

[6] Autobiography 1:309-310.

[7] Autobiography 1:311.

[8] Autobiography 1:314-315.

[9] Autobiography 1:316.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at Spurgeon.org and is used with permission.



The Lord’s Day Morning

In the morning, Heaven will meet earth as Creator and creation commune together.

He will call them;

He has called them, and in the morning they respond by calling one another to Hear His calling Once again.

 

In the morning, simple notes and simple words will form a profound collection of songs sung to The King of kings.

They will rise;

We will rise and raise our voices as high as the heavens and as wide as the nations are spread. These songs will echo off the stained glass and the broken pews, the tall grass and the sitting Places hewn tonight by faithful men,

Lowly men who serve the Groom and the Bride.

And they will echo off eternity as He is now and He is then the Great I Am and the Great Always Has Been.

 

In the morning, men—scarred and tattered, marred and weak from battle—men will pick up their Swords wrapped in ink and paper, and they will fight.

They will fight for souls and fight for families.

They’ll fight their own desires and log-filled eyes as they proclaim Good News.

“This Man is good news!” they’ll say. “He’s God and He’s good news!” they’ll say.

“He lived and died and lives again! And as He lives, so shall you. Believe in Christ! Believe the Truth!”

 

In the morning, at this Word, dead men will rise.

Men and women—dust-covered bones—will stand and shake off that death

Like a snake in a Garden tree who tried to hold on but was blown away by One more mighty Than he.

Image-bearers who’ve only ever ran from their King will stop and rest and see Him as He’s meant To be seen.

Spirit, He will breathe in them the breath of life

And they will come forth out of that rebel’s grave, out of that sin-soaked, God-hating grave and They will inhale the gift of life.

 

In the morning, water will—well, the One who made the water will wash clean the filth of Adam And robe us in the Second Adam’s righteous clothes.

Bread and wine will feed the soul, not by plates filled or glasses overflowed.

No, He will fill us as He filled in for us.

 

In the morning, we will pray.

And those prayers will go up with tears and laughter, with sobs and broken hearts,

All reaching the ears of a Father who always hears His Son’s prayers for His sons and daughters.

 

In the morning, the Bride will gather.

She will wait and she will weep. She will fail and she will stumble, but He’ll keep her faithful.

It might not be pretty, but it will be a perseverance to behold, because she is being held by the One who holds all things for Himself and to Himself and through Himself.

 

In the morning, the Church will rise. She will rise because He has risen.

 



How Church Membership Gives Us Freedom

Recently, while speaking with a friend of ours who’s visiting different churches in the area, I expressed my enthusiasm for our church. “We (my husband and I) feel relaxed there,” I said. “We’re experiencing a sense of freedom as we’ve enjoyed faithful preaching every week. Our pastor knows the flock, and we’re hearing a regular drum-beat from him and the other elders to love one another and to remember our covenant to each other.”

She seemed intrigued!

Isn’t it ironic that a high commitment like church membership can bring about a sense of freedom? I’m not exactly sure how that works but I do have some clarity on what I think it’s not. It’s not because I feel I can do whatever I want, or that I am free to be uniquely “me,” or even that I can act independently and without any responsibilities. On the contrary, I feel more bound to the Lord, his Word, and to the members of our church than at any other time in my life! So where does this freedom come from? What does it mean?

What Kind of Freedom?

Those of us who claim Jesus as our Lord and Savior are acutely aware of the sins that so easily entangle us. And we know it’s precisely those sins that nailed him to the cross. While the transformative work of the Holy Spirit is indeed ongoing, we all have ugly blind spots that cause others to cringe. I find myself living somewhere between these two truths: a sinner saved by grace and a work in progress. Fortunately, the Christian life doesn’t happen in a vacuum but alongside brothers and sisters who are also at times struggling through their sanctification.

As we strive for unity and the bond of peace in our church family, there may be some cringing at times. Sometimes, we’ll all be in a state of confession or repentance to others; other times, we’ll be the ones extending grace to others. But here’s the irony: as I put into practice these things, I experience a sense of freedom from my own judgments, anxieties, and fear of man (Romans 14). When I keep short accounts and don’t allow myself to be easily offended, I become less fearful, less insecure, and less anxious of what people may think of me or what they can do to me (Colossians 3:13). When I battle my pride (Romans 12:16), jealousy, and envy (James 3:14–16), God infuses into me an excitement and happiness for those I assume are causing me angst. My mind and heart can so easily become the devil’s playground, but only if I allow him access and entertain him while he’s there. By stopping him in his tracks in my mind by recognizing him as an intruder, and by taking my thoughts captive and yielding myself to the Lord’s transformative work, I am set free!

A Slow Process

Here’s another irony: though I’m the one who wrote this article, I’m not particularly good at what I’m describing. It’s only by God’s grace and the presence of the Holy Spirit that I can even consider going into battle against my sin. I’m slowly learning to stop relying on the weapon of willpower and to instead rely on the weapon he’s given me in his Word.

When I do this, I feel precisely what I said at the beginning: freedom. In so many unexpected ways, this freedom enables me to serve my brothers and sisters at Grace Harbor Church.

King David often describes God’s law and rules as “a comfort,” “a help,” and “a delight”:

Let your hand be ready to help me,
for I have chosen your precepts.
I long for your salvation, O Lord,
and your law is my delight.
Let my soul live and praise you,
and let your rules help me. (Psalm 119:173–175)

How unexpected! Guided by his precepts and spurred on by the covenant we have with our brothers and sisters, we move toward greater sanctification and, ultimately, greater freedom.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the 9Marks blog and is used with permission.



Five Words to Improve Every Sermon

Sermons are comprised of words, and every sermon rises or falls on the words that preachers choose to deploy. The words preached come with the power of life and death; thus, the preacher must carefully choose his words.

The point is not so much eloquence as it is intentionality. Over the years, as I have monitored my own preaching and observed others, I have come to realize how intentionally using a few key words will strengthen most any sermon. For example, consider these five:

Bible

“The Bible says,” a phrase popularized by Billy Graham, is one of the sweetest refrains a preacher can offer. It implies so much: God has spoken, His Word is accessible, His Word is true and authoritative, and this is His Word for you.

Intentionally using the word “Bible” enforces and reinforces the authority of the Scriptures and the authority of the sermon. Furthermore, specifically citing the text you are quoting or referencing adds punch. Make sure your congregation leaves not just exposed to the Bible, but inundated by it.

Look

Better still, invite the congregation to look in their Bibles with you. Throughout the sermon, saying, “Look with me in verse 2,” or, “See with me in verse 7,” continually pulls your hearers into the text.

As you do, your hearers are able to draw a direct line from the text to your point of emphasis, enhancing your sermon’s clarity and biblical weight. Moreover, your hearers will learn how to study their Bibles, as they see how you have studied yours, leading to a maturing congregation.

Repent

Perhaps some pastors avoid the word repent because it sounds too draconian, too judgmental, or too confrontational. But, to call for repentance is actually a gracious, inviting act. For those seeking forgiveness, repentance is the doorway through which one enters the room of God’s grace.

Repentance is not just an act at one’s conversion; for the Christian, it is a way of life. “Repent” was a common word in the book of Acts, and it should be in our preaching as well.

You

To preach is to call for a verdict—to press the truth of God onto the lives of your hearers—and it is impossible to do that without using the word you. Sadly, many preachers have an unhealthy aversion to confrontation and an accompanying inability to pronounce the word “you.”

There comes a time when the sermon should transition from the third person plural “we” to the second person singular “you.” Too much “we” and “us” hollows out the sermon, gutting its full force. It is impossible to preach pointed sermons without using pointed words; so do not be afraid to use the word you.

Jesus

Most importantly, make sure you point your hearers to the Word himself— Jesus. In our world of superficial spirituality and ambient religiosity, opaque God-talk is not sufficient. If you have preached a sermon without featuring Jesus, then you haven’t preached a Christian sermon.

And whatever you do, do not use the generic, all encompassing “faith” talk as in “faith journey” or “faith life.” Faith never saved anyone. Jesus saves. Model the Christological centricity of Charles Spurgeon; eschew the oblique nonsense of “Oprah Winfrey spirituality.”

Conclusion

Preaching is too consequential to settle for subpar sermons. These five words will help any preacher up their game. Make sure and intentionally deploy them.

 

Editor’s Note: This article was originally published at jasonkallen.com



Spurgeon’s Quest for Clarity: Five Ways to Grow In Your Preaching

Of the many gifts God gave Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892), one was a conviction as to the authority and sufficiency of the Word of God. As such, his forty years of pastoral ministry were marked by a quest for clarity in proclaiming that authority and sufficiency.

Thou book of vast authority! thou art a proclamation from the Emperor of Heaven; far be it from me to exercise my reason in contradicting thee. Reason, thy place is to stand and find out what this volume means, not to tell what this book ought to say. Come thou, my reason, my intellect, sit thou down and listen, for these words are the words of God.

He did not take total umbrage in understanding the times (for he was quite adept at the practice), but insomuch as to help the church understand how to apply the gospel.

Be much with the silly novels of the day, and the foolish trifles of the hour, and you will degenerate into vapid wasters of your time; but be much with the solid teaching of God’s word, and you will become solid and substantial men and women; drink them in, and feed upon them, and they shall produce in you a Christ-likeness, at which the world shall stand astonished.

This quest differentiated him from other preachers of the day who seemed more concerned with impressing listeners with rhetorical and oratorical expertise, fueled by a desire to be seen as one with intellectual and academic dexterity.  The critique often levied toward the practice of academic writing and speaking is that it’s “confusing and dense, that it suffers from a lack of clarity and concision.” Spurgeon sought to communicate the lofty aspects of theological thought in a way that the one of average or below average intellect could comprehend. Spurgeon not only taught but exemplified a pastoral passion to provide the Scriptures clearly! Spurgeon practiced and equipped young pastors to preach clearly and persuasively.

1) Know your people

In order to provide clarity, a pastor must know his people in his church and the audience if outside his church

Try, dear brethren, to get such a style of speaking that you suit yourselves to your audiences. Much lies in that. The preacher, who should address an educated congregation in the language which he would use in speaking to a company of costermongers, would prove himself a fool; and, on the other hand, he who goes down amongst miners and colliers, with technical theological terms and drawing-room phrases, acts like an idiot. . . . Now the costermonger cannot learn the language of the College, let the collegian learn the language of the costermonger.”

Here, Spurgeon risked losing many-an academic, yet his commitment lay more in helping clarify the Scriptures for all rather than any personal accolades he would receive as an intellectual giant.

2) Know your calling

Spurgeon believed that the preacher’s ultimate calling was bringing people to Christ. The quest for clarity of content comes from the clarity of calling. He fervently sought to remind pastors and parishioners alike of this primary ministry:

Do you above all things aim at saving souls? I am afraid that some have forgotten this grand object; but, dear friends, anything short of this is unworthy to be the great end of a Christian’s life. I fear there are some who preach with the view of amusing men, and as long as people can be gathered in crowds, and their ears can be tickled, and they can retire pleased with what they have heard, the orator is content, and folds his hands, and goes back self-satisfied. But Paul did not lay himself out to please the public and collect the crowd. If he did not save them he felt that it was of no avail to interest them.

Spurgeon nails the problem in many pulpits—a desire to merely interest their listeners. Spurgeon’s perspective was vertical. Now, should he move toward looking horizontally, the aim was to bring them vertical rather than for the congregation to bring him horizontal. The focus of the “business of the church” is the business of the minister.

The business of the church is salvation. The minister is to use all means to save some; he is no minister of Christ if this be not the one desire of his heart. Missionaries sink far below their level when they are content to civilize: their first object is to save. The same is true of the Sunday-school teacher, and of all other workers among children; if they have merely taught the child to read, to repeat hymns, and so forth, they have not yet touched their true vocation. We must have the children saved. At this nail we must drive, and the hammer must come down upon this head always— If by all means I may save some, for we have done nothing unless some are saved.

3) Arrange your material clearly

Though Spurgeon only spoke briefly on this matter, he reminds the preacher of the necessity or orderliness of material.  In his Lectures to My Students, he warns, “It is possible to heap up a vast mass of good things all in a muddle. . . . Put the truth before men in a logical, orderly manner, so that they can easily remember it, and they will the more readily receive it.” Later in the Lectures, he noted, “Brethren, weigh your sermons. Do not retail them by the yard, but deal them out by the pound. Set no store by the quantity of words which you utter, but strive to be esteemed for the quality of your matter. It is foolish to be lavish in words and niggardly in truth.”

4) Speak plainly

“Had the teaching from the pulpit been more clear and decisive during the past twenty years we should not now be living in an age of uncertainty.” Spurgeon loved Christ and His gospel, so why muddy the homiletical waters? Again, he spoke in a manner that those with little to no education could understand the message. In his Lectures to My Students, Spurgeon reminded his students of the necessity for clarity. “However excellent your matter, if a man does not comprehend it, it can be of no use to him.”

While conventional wisdom dictates that the preacher speaks up to the rich and educated and down to the commoner, Spurgeon puts the conventional understanding of preaching on its head when he noted, “Go up to his level if he is a poor man; go down to his understanding if he is an educated person.” Go up to the poor man’s level? Go down to the educated person’s understanding? He explains in an 1869 sermon:

The Christian church ought to aim at the rich. The rich want the gospel, perhaps, more than any other class in the community. They seldom hear it, and what they do hear of the gospel is poor diluted stuff.  Their sins are not often told them to the face, neither are they rebuked as the poor are. They are to be sought for by the church, and though it is difficult to get at them, yet we have not done our duty till we have done what we can for them.

This insight is helpful for those who may find themselves intimidated by those who are rich and powerful: preach the Word all the more clearly, for due to their power and influence, they likely do not have any pushback or confrontation about their lifestyles. Yet, regardless of societal status, Spurgeon reminds his congregation of the task ahead: “Having, then, clearly before us what our work is—to publish and make plain to every creature the gospel of Jesus Christ… .”

No matter the age, preachers are tempted with preaching with eloquence first. Yet, eloquence is no substitute for substance. “Apollos teaches very eloquently; but still there is a lack about his teaching. He has not yet reached the full chord; he does not sound out the blessed music of the gospel to perfection.”

5) Rely on the Spirit for revival

Spurgeon longed for revival, seeing the hearts of England turn to the Savior. With higher critical methods and Darwinism working their way among academic circles, he soon saw a generation in the churches intoxicated with this new message. As a result, preachers could find themselves blaming the churches for not responding to the gospel and stifling the Spirit’s work of revival. Yet, Spurgeon brings needed perspective:

We too often flog the Church, when the whip should be laid on our own shoulders. We drag the Church, like a colossal culprit, to the altar; we bind her hands fast, and try to execute her at cone; or, at least, we find fault with her where there is none, and magnify her little errors, while we too often forget our own imperfections. Let us, therefore, commence with our selves, remembering that we are a part of the Church, and that our own want of revival is in some measure the cause of that want in the Church at large. I directly charge the great majority of professing Christians in these days—and I take charge to myself also, –with a need of revival of piety. I shall lay the charge very peremptorily, because I think I have abundant grounds to prove it. I believe that the mass of nominal Christians in this age need a revival.”

Both the preacher and parishioner alike must work together in partnership for the gospel, repenting of sin so the gospel would move clearly and with conviction in the hearts and minds of all. This is no mere work of men, but as Spurgeon knew, was ultimately the work of the Holy Spirit.

But I know, as Paul also knew, that all the human persuasion in the world will fall short of the mark without divine power. I never dreamed that my persuasion was of the slightest avail without the Holy Ghost. If the Holy Spirit will cause the persuasion to reach the inward ear, then it will prevail, and not else: if he will drive home the persuasion, so that it touches the heart which is encased in the fat of worldly pleasure, indifference, prejudice, and pride, then men will yield, and men will be persuaded indeed. But the Holy Spirit will do this! He has done it; he is doing it; he will dot it; and therefore we persuade.”

This reliance on the Spirit to convict and convert hearts gave Spurgeon confidence and freedom to preach and to teach other preachers to bring forth the biblical message with every tool possible in a quest for clarity. May we heed these lessons as well.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at Spurgeon.org and is used with permission.



Lord, Restore the Years the Swarming Locusts Have Eaten

Lord, I’ve wasted so much time in my life. Please forgive me.

This is a frequent and common prayer during my morning devotional hour. I consistently mourn the copious amounts of time that have slipped through my fingers. It seems like minutes are like water, slipping through cupped hands despite my best efforts to hold them. There never seem to be enough hours in the day to accomplish all that needs to be done.

However, how many more hours have I willingly thrown away?

How many hours have been lost on Facebook, YouTube, and eBay? How many times have I promised that “this is the last video,” before I get to work? How many hours would those “last videos” account for in wasted time after the minutes are added up? More importantly, how many sermons could I have written earlier, leaving time for meditation, prayer, and time with family? How many classes would not have required a frenetic rush at the end of the semester, resulting in shoddy work?

There is a frequent lament for the way that I have frittered away time.

Then, there is the attempt to rededicate myself. Maybe I need new time-management software? Perhaps I need new time management techniques! Aha! That’s the ticket. Have you heard of the Pomodoro Technique? It promises that you will get more done if you dedicate yourself to working for 25-minute intervals with 5 minutes of rest in between. No? Maybe I need to re-read Cal Newport’s Deep Work. Hmm. That didn’t catch either. You know what will work? Noise-canceling headphones. On and on it goes, until the weight of wasted time sits squarely on my shoulders, causing me to retreat into a cycle of mindless YouTube videos. Lord, I will deal with this tomorrow.

Tomorrow brings the temptress of comparison. She leads me toward disdain and despair.

How are there people 10 years younger than me who have surpassed me in productivity? They probably never spend time with their family. They probably neglect their devotional duties to have such productivity. Comparison tempts me to think uncharitably about my fellow Christians, and I readily give in.

What about my sin? How many years have I spent watching pornography, indulging the lusts of the flesh? How many wasted hours in front of a screen, warping my mind and shriveling my soul? Lord, have mercy on me.

There are moments throughout the day where the weight of lost time grips my soul. My chest tightens, and a recurring thought grips me: Lord, the swarming locusts have taken too much. I might as well continue to waste my life. Why not another YouTube video? Why not another online purchase? After all, I do need new shoes.

Christian, if you cannot identify with my plight, God bless you. I say that with no pretentiousness and complete sincerity. Maybe you are one of those Christians who can simultaneously balance school, ministry, and family and do all things well. I look forward to poking around your Amazon author’s page one day.

For the rest of us, how do we face tomorrow?

I’m reminded of Joel 2:25. This arresting verse reads, “I will restore to your the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the hopper, the destroyer, and the cutter, my great army, which I sent among you.”

The Lord tells His people that their despair over the crops destroyed by the vermin are all directed by His hands. I sent them among you. Imagine an Israelite standing in a desolate field as the buzzing of the locusts fade away. Everything green is reduced to brown, and he has to start over. Indeed, this farmer has lost years. The devastation destroys this year’s crop and leaves lasting damage for the coming years.

Are you standing in front of your proverbial barren field, lamenting the destruction? Are you tempted to look in your neighbor’s field and think uncharitably about him?

The same God who promised to restore the years lost to the swarming locusts is the same God you serve today. In Joel, God was promising restoration for their economic benefit. If he cares about Israel’s despair over lost crops, how much more will He care for your despair over wasted hours? After all, a correct view of God’s sovereignty will be able to encompass the clause, I sent the destroyers among you.

Take heart. It matters not if the locusts took the form of social media addiction, the impulse to shop online every time you think of that pile of undone tasks on your desk, or a years-long losing battle with pornography, God is sovereign over these destroyers. He never causes you to sin, but when you willingly transgress His law and fritter your time away, He can still say, I sent the destroyers among you.

How can this be? We have reached the limits of our understanding, and we dare not question the potter. This is not a license to sin, but the freedom to trust the one who will restore us despite our sin.

My fellow Christian, press on to what lies ahead and forget what lies behind. Yes, you have wasted years on things that have no eternal value. However, our gracious God has given you another day and another chance to put your hand to the plow. Parent your children. Probe your spouse’s heart. Mend that broken friendship. Write that sermon. Learn Greek as the oldest student in the class. Do not despair because your righteousness is not in your productivity but hidden in Christ. Drill that truth deep into your heart and watch as He restores what the swarming locusts have eaten.

 



The Chalcedonian Definition: Christ’s Two Natures

The first thing one should notice from the title of this post is that the document produced at the Council of Chalcedon in October 451 was not a “creed”; it was a “definition.”

A creed, properly speaking, is not a statement of what Christians believe about our faith. (That would be a “confession.”) Instead, a creed is a pledge of allegiance to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Creeds answer the question, “In whom do you believe?” more than the question “What do you believe?”

Creeds were originally intended for liturgical use, as the people of God affirmed their allegiance to the persons of the Trinity prior to baptism or the celebration of the Eucharist. In contrast, a definition is a commentary on a creed, designed to give more terminological precision to the content of that creed.

The Council of Chalcedon

At the Council of Chalcedon (the Fourth Ecumenical Council in the Greco-Roman world), the bishops who assembled were firmly convinced that the Nicene Creed was sufficient to affirm their faith in God, his Son, and his Spirit.

They were right: the Nicene Creed clearly identifies each of the divine persons, shows that they are equal to one another, and emphasizes that for us and for our salvation, the Son came down from heaven through the incarnation. At the same time, the bishops at Chalcedon were under intense pressure from the emperor to produce a new creed, because he wanted to be able to call himself a new Constantine, presiding over the writing of a creed as Constantine had done at Nicaea in 325. The bishops also recognized that they needed more specificity than the Nicene Creed gave about how to understand Christ as both divine and human. As a result, they decided to write not a creed, but a “definition.”

Contrary to popular opinion, the Chalcedonian Definition is actually about five pages long—far too long to recite as part of a worship service. It includes the full text of two different versions of the Nicene Creed: the original form from the First Ecumenical Council at Nicaea in 325, and the expanded version (the one familiar to us) from the Second Ecumenical Council at Constantinople in 381.

It includes descriptions of heresies that had arisen since 381 (Nestorianism—which regarded Christ not as God the Son incarnate but as a man inspired by God, and Eutychianism—which truncated the full humanity of the incarnate Son by refusing to accept his consubstantiality with us). Then the Definition concludes with a paragraph that gives specificity and terminological precision to the church’s articulation of the incarnate Christ. This paragraph is usually regarded mistakenly as being the entire definition, but with that mistake duly noted, it is still worth our while to read and consider that paragraph.

The Text

As I translate it, the paragraph reads as follows:

Therefore, following the holy fathers, we all unite in teaching that we should confess one and the same Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. This same one is perfect in deity, and the same one is perfect in humanity; the same one is true God and true man, comprising a rational soul and a body. He is of the same essence (homousios) as the Father according to his deity, and the same one is of the same essence (homousios) with us according to his humanity, like us in all things except sin. He was begotten before the ages from the Father according to his deity, but in the last days for us and our salvation, the same one was born of the Virgin Mary, the bearer of God (Theotokos), according to his humanity. He is one and the same Christ, Son, Lord, and Only Begotten, who is made known in two natures (physeis) united unconfusedly, unchangeably, indivisibly, inseparably. The distinction between the natures (physeis) is not at all destroyed because of the union, but rather the property of each nature (physis) is preserved and concurs together into one person (prosopon) and subsistence (hypostasis). He is not separated or divided into two persons (prosopa), but he is one and the same Son, the Only Begotten, God the Logos, the Lord Jesus Christ. This is the way the prophets spoke of him from the beginning, and Jesus Christ himself instructed us, and the Council of the fathers has handed the faith down to us.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at the blog for Credo Magazine.



When Good Things Start to Hurt

I was having coffee with one of the women I’ve been discipling last month. This is her first year in Kansas City, and in the few short months she’s been here, her growth has been exponential. The opportunity to be discipled, combined with an increased love for learning and heightened capacity to understand theological truth and apply it to her spiritual walk has made her year unforgettable.

Seeing such rapid and significant growth has been fascinating. The Bible uses cultivation language to talk about the lives of believers and how they interact with teachers, disciplers, and others who have influence in their lives – some water, some plant seeds, and some get to witness the harvest. Ultimately, God gives the growth, and every now and then, we get the privilege to watch other Christians bear fruit and flourish.

But, flourishing begs the question: what happens when all of that fast growth catches up to you? When the Lord is exposing your sin and working on your heart, it can be desperately painful.

Have you ever experienced this? The Lord exposes a sin, and by the grace of God, you respond to his prompting and begin killing it. The Lord gives you victory, and you have a community to confess to and to walk alongside of you. But after a few weeks, you begin to grow weary of talking about it, weary of re-opening wounds to clear out infection. You know it needs to happen, but the joy of growth is overrun by the growing pains that accompany your newness of life.

There’s something that just hurts about the rawness of sanctification. It’s good to grow, and be vulnerable and share and let the deepest parts of your life out. But often after a season of prolonged openness, that raw wound can begin to hurt: to recoil at the touch or even mention of it. We get bleary eyed, unable to actually process or discern because we’re just so tired of talking about it over and over.

The growth that we’re loving begins to stretch us at the seams, and reminds us that vulnerability creates a tender spot where tough skin used to be. This is such a tangible picture of the Lord refining us. And we want to be refined, no doubt! But often, I don’t think we realize what we’re truly asking for.

When we ask the Lord to grow us in holiness, he may do so by revealing indwelling sin that we have ignored or never seen before.

When we ask the Lord for wisdom, he may do so by bringing us difficult circumstances that stretch our discernment.

When we ask the Lord for patience, he may bring us trying times that test our commitment to selflessness.

Seeing the Lord redeem and restore brokenness is one of the gifts of the Christian life. These are the true miracles that we experience in our lives – seeing how the Lord redeems thoroughly broken people and introducing them to abundant life. To witness this over a series of months and years, this is a grace to the church, to see the Lord use awful circumstances, situations, or sin struggles to give us opportunities to delight in his glory and the good that he has for us.

But it takes courage to walk in full repentance. It takes trust to see the Lord expose the depths of our hearts to others. It takes endurance to do the work that comes with saying “yes” to the Holy Spirit — to listen, to respond, to engage the way that believers are called to do so.

When confession gets overwhelming –

When wounds start to sting,

When honesty feels like too much work,

Press into the gentle and lowly heart of Christ. Our weakness is the place where his strength abounds. He loves to bind up the wounds of the broken, and to restore those who need it. The Lord is for you — his sanctifying spirit is a gift to you. Press on, and press in, believer, and allow the Lord to be your strength.