Pastors, Fight Against Fear of Man by Fighting for the Fear of the Lord

By / Oct 12

When I began pastoral ministry, I didn’t realize it would be my job to disappoint people. I had to tell a young man he wasn’t ready for ministry. I had to counsel a couple that they shouldn’t get married. I had to  inform the church that Sunday’s text means exactly what they don’t want it to mean. Pastoral ministry is full of no-win decisions. Because of this, ministry is a miserable place for a pastor who needs everyone’s approval.

If we knew that before 2020, we know it even more now.

FEAR OF MAN & PASTORAL MINISTRY

 

This sinful desire for the approval of others is often called “the fear of man.” We were made to desire loving relationships, acceptance into a community, and the favor of those in authority over us. But the fear of man multiplies and warps these desires into an insatiable hunger for applause, honor, and status.

In pastoral leadership, this wrongly placed fear surfaces in many ways. It makes a pastor perform in the pulpit, but never quite preach from it. It makes him hide in his study with the light off, afraid the bully member might swing by. It fixates him on what would make his favorite professor proud, so much that he forgets to ask what his people need. It addicts him to fame or internet attention. It makes him easily manipulated by those who know how to hand out honor, shame, and pressure.

Every pastor struggles against this in different ways, but their hearts all say the same thing: “I need approval to be happy.” Young pastor, learn to overcome the fear of man now.

That’s easy to say. But how?

FIGHTING FEAR OF MAN

There’s a temptation to fight fear of man with self-confidence or a foolhardy “who cares what anyone thinks” attitude. But that won’t work. After all, humans were made to revere something. The question isn’t whether we will tremble, but what will make us tremble. The only pastor who won’t tremble before the honor and shame of others is a pastor who has learned to tremble before God. This must be part of why, again and again, the Bible urges leaders to fear the Lord (Exo. 18:21; Deut. 17:18–20; 1 Sam. 12:14; 2 Sam. 23:3–4; 2 Chron. 19:7; Neh. 5:9, 15; Ps. 2:10–11, Lk. 18:2).

The fear of the Lord is a glad trembling before God that leads to humility and obedience. Like the word “thrill,” the word “fear” can be either positive or negative. It’s possible to be afraid of God, but the man who rightly fears God enjoys the thrill, the breathlessness, the awe of glimpsing God’s glory. This man knows his own smallness—and doesn’t mind it.

Over the years, this trembling disposition will form a man into a courageous and gentle pastor. He’ll learn to sit patiently while a church member scolds him or hurls false accusations at him. When that conversation is over, he can love that member even more than he did before. He can do this because he does not need others to tell him he is great. He is so consumed with God’s greatness that he is free from the fear of man.

Trembling before God does more than help a pastor overcome the fear of man. It actually becomes a source of strength for his leadership, giving him integrity (Deut. 6:2; Job 1:1, 8, 2:3, 4:6; Prov. 6:6) and wisdom (Ps. 111:10; Prov. 1:7) while also blessing his wife and children (Ps. 128:3–4: Prov. 31:30). These qualities make him a more credible and effective leader. Some church members may not like the direction he takes Wednesday night Bible study, but they will recognize a gentle father whose children obey him. They will notice when he sorts out a sticky staff situation with God-fearing wisdom. A member whose husband left after two years will notice when her pastor leads for twenty years without a moral failing. In the fear of God he earns their trust while he also becomes a better steward of that trust.

WHAT YOUR CHURCH NEEDS

Future pastor, local churches need unwavering leaders who fear the Lord. They don’t need you to meet their expectations, but they do need to see your hand tremble when you hold up your Bible. They need to know that you would rather have the whole room turn on you than utter one word that displeases the Spirit. That means they need you to close the door to your study, read your Bible, and marvel at the God who forgives sinners. They need you to learn the fear of the Lord.

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



The Christian Creeds: An Introduction

By / Oct 12

From the very beginning, creeds and creedal formulations have played a crucial role in the beliefs and practices of Christian churches. Some Christians (usually in free church traditions) deny the creeds any authority in teaching or value in worship. But this rejection of tradition usually stems from a misunderstanding of the function of the creeds and the classical Protestant understanding of sola Scriptura. Creeds have no independent “authority” on their own, but they are “authoritative” or normative to the degree that they faithfully represent what Scripture teaches.[1] As faithful interpretations of Scripture, creeds can be a tremendous asset to us today.

Creeds are in the Bible

The creeds may have been formulated centuries after the last books of the Bible were written, but there are numerous models for creedal formulations within Scripture. Consider the numerous passages in Scripture that summarize and profess the faith of Israel and the early church in creedal forms. The Shema (Deut. 6:4–5) was a simple, concise profession of Israel’s faith: “Listen, Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength.”[2] This pronouncement declared the uniqueness of Israel’s God and the mandate of his people. The psalter contains liturgical formulas like “his faithful love endures forever” (Ps. 100:5; 106:1; 118:1–29; Ps. 136:1–26) which helped ingrain Israel’s faith into the hearts of their hearers. New Testament epistles contain early hymns to Christ that served an important liturgical function in the early church (Phil. 2:6–11; Col. 1:15–20; 1 Tim. 3:16).[3] Given these biblical precedents, it should not surprise us that the early church replicated this pattern in her own expressions of faith and worship.

Creeds summarize the grand narrative of Scripture

Yes, some of the creeds do employ philosophical concepts, but they are not mere abstractions rooted in speculative contemplation. Instead, as N. T. Wright astutely observes, creeds are “portable narratives” that

consciously tell the story—precisely the scriptural story!—from creation to new creation, focusing particularly, of course, on Jesus and summing up what Scripture says about him in a powerful, brief narrative (a process that we can already see happening within the New Testament itself). When the larger story needs to be put within a particular discourse, for argumentative, didactic, rhetorical, or whatever other purpose, it makes sense, and is not inimical to its own character, to telescope it together and allow it, suitably bagged up, to take its place in that new context—just as long as we realize that it will collect mildew if we leave it in its bag forever.[4]

While they are not meant to be substitutes for Scripture, the creeds do model for us a succinct way of talking about the whole biblical storyline of creation, fall, redemption, and restoration. The Apostles’ Creed is a clear example of this kind of discourse:

I believe in God the Father almighty, creator of heaven and earth,
and believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
who was conceived from the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary,
who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried,
descended into hell, rose again from the dead on the third day,
ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father,
who will come again to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
the holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the body,
and the life everlasting. Amen.

The creed begins with the beginning of the story—God is “creator of heaven and earth”—and ends with the end of the story—the Son is coming again “to judge the living and the dead,” bringing with him “the resurrection of the body” and “life everlasting.” While it does not explicitly describe the Fall, it does speak of “the forgiveness of sins” needed because of human fallenness. It does not directly address the history of Israel, but it does shout about Israel’s Messiah who fulfills the promises given to Israel.

Creeds explain biblical revelation

Christians are often curious why we value creeds so much when Scripture itself is a clear and sufficient authority for faith and practice. While Scripture is the supreme source of divine revelation and the only norming norm for our faith, it still must be interpreted (Neh. 8:8; Acts 8:30–35). Individual readers interpret the Bible to make sense of its meaning. Sermons are interpretations of the biblical message that include explanation and application. The same is true of the early creeds: they are explanations of what the Bible says about Jesus Christ. We certainly don’t need the creeds to interpret Scripture, as the message of Scripture has an internal clarity that can be grasped with the illuminating aid of the Holy Spirit. However, the creeds are helpful guides that resulted from centuries of reflection on the biblical message.

The early church faced serious external challenges from heretical sects who, while giving lip service to biblical authority, undermined its meaning. So, how did they respond to those, like Arius, who used biblical prooftexts to make his case for his errant view of the Son? As R. P. C. Hanson explained, the “theologians of the Christian Church were slowly driven to a realization that the deepest questions which face Christianity cannot be answered in purely biblical language, because the questions are about the meaning of biblical language itself.”[5] Though the creeds used some conceptual language that would have been foreign to the human authors of Scripture (i.e., homoousion), they expressed the same judgments made by biblical authors. The Nicene Fathers made the same judgment about Jesus as Paul did—that he is truly equal to God and worthy of devotion and service (Phil. 2:5–11)—but did so using philosophical categories that would have been familiar to their context.[6]

Editor’s Note: The full version of Dr. Putman’s article is here. This post originally appeared at the blog for Credo Magazine.

Endnotes

[1]. See Rhyne R. Putman, “Baptists, Sola Scriptura, and the Place of the Christian Tradition,” in Baptists and the Christian Tradition: Towards an Evangelical Baptist Catholicity, edited by Matthew Y. Emerson, Christopher W. Morgan, and R. Lucas Stamps (Nashville: B&H Academic, 2020), 27–54.

[2]. A helpful overview of these biblical creedal formulations can be found in Michael F. Bird, What Christians Ought to Believe: An Introduction to Christian Doctrine through the Apostle’s Creed (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2016), 19–21.

[3]. Steven E. Fowl, The Story of Christ in the Ethics of Paul: An Analysis of the Function of the Hymnic Material in the Pauline Corpus, JSNTSS 36 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1990).

[4]. N. T. Wright, “Reading Paul, Thinking Scripture,” in Scripture’s Doctrine and Theology’s Bible: How the New Testament Shapes Christian Dogmatics, ed. Markus Bockmuehl and Alan J. Torrance (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2008), 64.

[5]. R. P. C. Hanson, The Search for the Christian Doctrine of God: The Arian Controversy, 318-381 (London/New York: T&T Clark, 1988), xxi.

[6]. David S. Yeago, “The New Testament and Nicene Dogma: A Contribution to the Recovery of Theological Exegesis,” in Theological Interpretation of Scripture: Classic and Contemporary Readings, ed. Stephen E. Fowl (Cambridge, MA: Blackwell, 1997), 93.



He Must Really Love Us

By / Oct 11

One oddly encouraging thing about the Gospels is seeing just how dense Jesus’ disciples were. They are consistently and persistently slow on the uptake. When Jesus is being literal, they take Him metaphorically. When He is being metaphorical, they take Him literally. They always seem to be a few steps behind. Do you remember after the miracle in John 6 where Jesus fed the five thousand, there was a subsequent event where a smaller crowd of four thousand had gathered, and the disciples wonder how they will be fed?

No, these disciples do not seem to be the head of the class, cream of the crop-type guys. They aren’t winning the scholarship awards in seminary. They are slow, dumb, and stubborn.

But this ought to be a huge encouragement to us! This is encouraging, because it means our ignorance is no hindrance to God. Because Jesus never stops at any point and says to these consummate dum-dums, “You know what? I’ve had it with you guys,” we can trust he will never say that to us. Our spiritual stupidity seems to be in fact a prerequisite for His awakening grace.

We must really be loved by God! If He gave us this gift apart from our efforts and despite our blindness, He must really want us and care for us.



Return, O Wanderer: An Open Letter

By / Oct 11

Dear friend,

It’s been a while. We’ve seen each other in passing a couple of times. Your pictures popped up in my news feed. I think I might’ve seen you at the grocery store last week.

What I really mean to say is, it’s been a while since we fellowshipped.

The last time we had fellowship—where we prayed, laughed, and bore one another’s burdens —was probably more than a year ago. Back then, we were confused and afraid. We really thought that a plague of biblical proportions was about to end our way of life.

Truthfully, we did see—and are still seeing—the judgment-hand of God. We, as a people, have turned our back on the Lord and should expect to reap the consequences. Yet with any judgment, there is mercy. God is never as harsh with us as we deserve. Even his most severe chastisements are intermingled with grace. He does not treat believers according to their sins (Ps. 103:10), and he makes the sun to rise on the just and the unjust (Matt. 5:45).

So what was—or is—the nature of the judgment we’re experiencing? The Apostle John records for us Christ’s words for the church in Ephesus:

But I have this against you, that you have left your first love. Therefore remember from where you have fallen, and repent and do the deeds you did at first; or else I am coming to you and will remove your lampstand out of its place⁠—unless you repent. (Rev. 2:4-5 NASB)

Hear me, friend: this is for us. Our Lord has something against us and is disciplining his people. There are too many reasons to discuss them here. But note the solemn warning: “I will remove your lampstand.” In Revelation 1:20, we’re told that the lampstands represent local church communities. Jesus is saying that unless we repent and renew our love for Christ, our assembly will disintegrate. The church planted will be uprooted. This little light of ours won’t shine.

This is a weighty threat. Remember what happened in Jerusalem following Pentecost? The first generation of believers became devoted to learning from the apostles, coming together in communion, and selling their possessions to care for one another’s needs. Through their faithfulness, their little group quickly grew as “the Lord was adding to their number day by day those who were being saved” (Acts 2:47).

Now, imagine a church community like this extinguished.

Friend, doesn’t this feel weighty to you? Does your soul not ache for the type of fellowship witnessed in that passage—the type of fellowship Jesus threatened to withhold from his wayward Bride? How dare we cut ourselves off from such grace?

If Scripture considers it a judgment for a local church assembly to be snuffed out, then why would any individual casually exclude himself from the church—in effect, replicating that kind of judgment on a personal level?

We must gather with the local church. The Book of Hebrews exhorts us:

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day drawing near. (Heb. 10:23-25)

Let’s put it another way. If you learned that tomorrow Jesus was going to return (let’s pretend for a second that it’s possible to know this ), and you had only to meet him in a given location, wouldn’t you move Heaven and earth to be there? The answer is an easy yes, right?

We make much of the final Day of the Lord, but far less of the Lord’s Day that comes every week—the day Christ promises his presence with us as we gather.

My friend, I’m not simply trying to hotly rebuke you but to win you back to Christ. Consider this. What married couple have you known who chose to separate and were happier and more intimate as a result? None? So how can we sever ourselves from the vital Vine, our Lord, fail to commune with him as his people on each Lord’s Day, and expect to remain alive?

At the risk of piling on, consider: do we forget to eat meals each day? When we miss a meal, don’t we immediately feel the effects? So why do we starve ourselves of our spiritual food?

We miss you. You used to be here every week shaking hands and holding doors. Then it was every other week. Then monthly, if ever. And when you’re with us now, you slip away at the end without greeting others. It started with the pandemic and became about family, vacations, or missed alarms. You watch online or listen to the message—usually. But we, the church, yearn for you. “For God is my witness, how I long for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus” (Phil. 1:8).

Return, o wandering friend. Jesus left the ninety-nine to go after the one. He is seeking you, too. An old saint once wrote that he does not have God as his Father who does not also have the church as his mother. Perhaps that’s an overstatement, but I don’t think so. Jesus loves his people. He is the Good Shepherd who laid down his life for them (John 10:11). This means he loves you, if indeed you are counted among his people. Are you?

Come back. You won’t be scorned, mocked, or eyed suspiciously. (If someone looks at you funny, we’re sorry—accept our apology in advance.) We don’t want your tithes, time, or talents as much as we want you. We yearn to fellowship with you again.

See you this Sunday?

In Christ,

A Fellow Church Member

Editor’s Note: This originally published at ABWE.org



Dean Inserra On Churches Being On The Right Track

By / Oct 8

We asked Dean Inserra, “How can a church know it’s on the right track? What are some signs of faithfulness?”



Dads, Shepherding Sons in the In-Between Times

By / Oct 8

Transitions are important in life. We often mark transitions with special events, ceremonies, and meals, and rightly so. These kinds of actions remind us that transitions must be acknowledged, prepared for, and faced with courage. A failure to do so often leads to fear and insecurity. The in-between times in life are formative for both good and bad.

Dads, one important job you have is to prepare your sons for the transitions they will face. The apostle Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth” (1 Cor 3:7). His advice to the church provides dads a good perspective on raising our sons. We are dependent on God’s work and grace, but we are to plant and water.

Guiding our sons through transitions is a vital way that we plant and water our sons. We must set the example we want our sons to follow. We should be willing to say to our sons what Paul said to the church in Corinth, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Cor 11:1). In our son’s transitional seasons, we must be intentional about teaching and training them. And when our sons make strides in the right direction we must celebrate with them.

Manhood is not easy, and biblical manhood is harder still. We must teach our sons this fact and train our sons with this fact in mind. Laziness is a sin our culture has deemed as acceptable, but as Christian dads, we must teach our sons that laziness is wicked. Our sons must be trained that it is not acceptable to just float along with no clear goals and live as consumers rather than workers and servants.

One thing I do with my sons is taking them on a manhood retreat around age twelve to fourteen years of age depending on their maturity. During this retreat, I begin the process of intentionally ushering them from childhood to manhood. After this retreat, I refer to my son as a young man. I do not use the term teenager because the Bible speaks of childhood giving way to a transition into manhood and womanhood.

Also, after our manhood trip, I institute the direction rule. The direction rule means that whenever I ask my sons from that point on, “What do you plan to do with your life?” they must have an answer to the question and not say, “I don’t know.” At the end of the day, I often ask, “How did you honor God today in the pursuit of your career goal?” I do not care if it is a different goal on Thursday than it was on Wednesday, just that they have a goal they are working toward to the glory of God. I tell them you have to be headed somewhere to get anywhere.

The goal is to create a culture where the transition from childhood to adulthood is marked is by intentional action and not by apathy. When Paul exhorts, “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor 10:31), he is calling for purposeful action. Dads, your sons will experience significant transitions from stage to stage in their development, the only questions is, who will guide, lead, and celebrate those transitions? For God’s glory and your sons good, let it be you.

Editor’s Note: This originally published at Prince on Preaching



Yes, Preaching Really Does Change People

By / Oct 7

If you’ve been in pastoral ministry for any length of time at all you’ve asked the question: Is my preaching actually doing anything? Is it having any effect?

The question could be addressed on several different grounds. It could be addressed on historical grounds, pointing to the powerful effects of preaching in various times and places in the history of the church, notably, from the beginning in the book of Acts. It could be addressed on personal grounds by means of collected anecdotes—“Let me tell you about Joe and Mary Black and what God did in their lives through the faithful preaching of God’s Word.”

But without question, the most compelling response is going to be a theological one, grounded in the realities presented in Scripture regarding who God is, what he is doing, what his Word does, and what he fully intends preaching to accomplish.

An Under-Celebrated Characteristic

We rightly celebrate the authority, the trustworthiness, and the sufficiency of Scripture. But perhaps an under-celebrated characteristic of Scripture is its efficacy. By “efficacy” I simply mean the ability to actually accomplish what is intended.

Probably the clearest statement on the efficacy of Scripture is found in Isaiah 55:10–11:

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it . (italics added)

That’s a powerful statement on the efficacy of God’s Word, and it provides more than sufficient grounds for a deep conviction in the heart of every faithful preacher. Without this conviction, a pastor will regularly wonder about and doubt the usefulness of his preaching. But with this conviction fully in place a pastor will have every reason to persevere in his regular and faithful exposition of God’s Word.

What God’s Word is and Does

Think of the images the Bible uses to speak of God’s Word. It’s like a sword (Hebrews 4:12). It’s like a hammer (Jeremiah 23:29). These images evoke powerful efficacy. Even the less aggressive images of rain (Isaiah 55:10) and seed (Mark 4:14) speak of efficacy.

And think of all the things the Bible says God’s Word can do.

  • It brings about faith. “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17).
  • It gives new spiritual life. “You have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, the living and abiding word of God” (1 Peter 1:23).
  • It helps us grow. “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up to salvation” (1 Peter 2:2).
  • It sanctifies us. “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth” (John 17:17).
  • It searches and convicts. “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Hebrews 4:12).
  • It liberates. “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31–32).
  • It refreshes and renews. “Give me life according to your word” (Psalm 119:25).
  • It revives our souls and rejoices our hearts. “The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul … the precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart” (Psalm 19:7,8).

These are all things the Bible claims God’s Word can do in our lives! And there’s so much more! So is it any wonder that David says, “Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree” (Psalm 1:1–3)? And the amazing thing is that God has ordained preaching as the primary means by which this powerful Word is brought effectively to human beings (cf. 2 Timothy 4:2).

What’s at Stake

There’s so much at stake in our preaching. People’s lives are at stake. People are lost, alienated from God, and desperately in need of hearing the saving Word of Christ. The health of Christ’s church is at stake. God’s people desperately need instruction and encouragement from God’s Word. When God said to Ezekiel, “Can these bones live?” it didn’t look very promising. But God instructed him to preach and the result was absolutely marvelous. (Read the wonderful account of this in Ezekiel 37:1–14. Pay special attention to the very last line.)

There are some particularly emboldening words found in the early chapters of Deuteronomy. Very significantly, these words are often repeated by Jesus himself: “Man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD” (Deuteronomy 8:3; Matthew 4:4). Don’t miss that. Man lives by God’s Word!

This is why God has called us to preach. Natural, unregenerate man comes to life by the Word of God. And having been brought to life by the Word, the regenerate man continues to be sustained and nourished by God’s Word. Peter said it so well. In a moment of spirit-inspired brilliance he spoke this truth, “Where else would we go, you have the words of life” (John 6:68).

Fellow preacher, God has promised that through this apparently weak and frail means, using weak and frail creatures like us, he will accomplish much. He has said so. He has promised to do it. Believe what God has said. The faithful preaching of God’s Word accomplishes much.

So, steady on brother. Do your work and then let the Word do its work, a work almighty God has promised will be done.

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



The Plurality Principle: A Book Review

By / Oct 7

Over the past several years, numerous works have been released calling churches back to a polity that is built on a plurality of elders. Much of the effort has been directed toward demonstrating the biblical argument for an eldership and some resources offer counsel on how churches can transition to an elder governance structure. Other resources define and describe the role of elders in the church. How should one understand the qualification passages in 1 Timothy and Titus? What must elders do? How should churches develop elders? These questions and more have been addressed. In The Plurality Principle, Dave Harvey offers something new and something desperately needed in the church. Harvey shares how elder pluralities can function in a healthy manner that serves the church well. While many of the books written on eldership deal with the elders as individuals, The Plurality Principle focuses on the team dynamic amongst the elders.

In The Plurality Principle, Harvey has one nail to hammer: “The quality of your elder plurality determines the health of your church.” His goal is to share with ministry leaders what he has learned about how to define, experience, and assess a healthy plurality of elders. To accomplish this task, Harvey breaks his work into two section: building a plurality and thriving as a plurality.

The first chapter offers a succinct summary of what many other resources have previously contributed to the argument for elder pluralities. He does well to include the biblical foundation at the start of his work. He quickly acknowledges that being a part of a healthy plurality requires each pastor to know his role, be willing to come under authority, learn humility, traffic in nuances, and be willing to think about his gifts and position through the lens of what serves the church rather than his personal agenda.

Chapter 2 is the most important contribution to the current conversation on healthy elderships. Here, Harvey develops his thoughts on the idea of “First Among Equals.” He quickly demonstrates the Scriptural support for leadership that spans both the Old and New Testaments. His theological observations are concise and precise. He is careful to demonstrate the submission of the Son to the Father in the incarnation, thus separating himself from charges of holding to eternal functional subordination. He also recognizes that having leadership on an elder team is not synonymous with headship. Headship, Harvey rightly argues, is confined in Scripture to covenant roles.

After laying the theological groundwork, Harvey then shows his readers how churches can err by placing undue emphasis on the first or the equals part of first among equals. Emphasizing first can lead to domineering leadership. Emphasizing equals can lead to indecision, confusion, and lack of care. The point is, both realities can lead to a significant health crisis in the life of a plurality and the consequences can be devastating.

In the latter portion of his book, Harvey helps leaders develop healthy pluralities. He outlines four essentials for a healthy team culture: a context for care, defined accountability, regular time spent together, and humility. His case is strengthened by the many examples he brings to the discussion of healthy senior leaders caring well for their people and exercising a great deal of humility.

Harvey concludes by saying, “And so we take the risk and live devoted to this biblical vision of plurality, not because we have perfect communion—we’re still flawed and fallen—but because we know deep in the recesses of our souls that the only leadership story worth living is a life where we lead together.” If you want to be a healthy church, if you want to experience deep joy in ministry, then you must tend to the health of your plurality. As the elders go, so goes the church.

Overall, Harvey accomplishes his goal of sharing with church leaders how to build and operate a healthy plurality. His consistent call to humility and care is pastoral. His experience is evident and his willingness to communicate his own shortcomings in many of his exhortations is instructive. As I read The Plurality Principle, I experienced numerous “aha” moments as Harvey was putting to words some of my own experiences. I also had many moments of conviction as I saw my own pride and failings where I have sought to engage in an elder plurality.

If this book is going to serve church leaders well, then the whole elder team must work through it together. It is not enough for the senior leader to read it alone and try to convey the message to their team. While you could spend your time as an elder team focusing on all kinds of good work, I am confident that taking the time to invest in the health of your plurality will be the greatest gift you can offer one another and your church.

 



The “Bad Math” of Derailing Spiritually

By / Oct 6

C.S. Lewis famously said that when we read history, we find that those who did the most for the present world are also the ones who thought the most of the next. In other words, the more heavenly minded we are—the more our heads and hearts are fixed on Jesus, his kingdom, and his purposes—the more earthly good we will be. And the more happy and healthy and whole we will be as well.

But if we are being honest, many Christians struggle to keep their minds and hearts fixed on what Lewis calls “the next” world. With goals to chase, degrees to earn, careers to pursue, friendships to enjoy, families to raise, retirement accounts to build, and more, we are easily distracted from our chief purpose as human beings—to glorify God and enjoy him forever.

In practical terms, how many of us have the time and energy to do what it takes to be heavenly minded? Who has the bandwidth, the focus, or for that matter the incentive to “set (their) minds on things above, not on earthly things” (Colossians 3:2)? Who has the interest or ability to stop worrying about the details and concerns of here and now, and instead to “seek first the kingdom of God” (Matthew 6:33)?

According to Scripture, the only way we can live a full and fruitful life in the here and now—the only way that things like career, family, friendship, and other pursuits can lead to healthy and life-giving outcomes—is to remain fixated on Jesus, his kingdom, and his purposes through each one of these pursuits. Jesus must be the sun around which the solar systems of our lives find their orbit. He must be our single non-negotiable, our “true north,” and the wind beneath our sails. Otherwise, by moving Jesus to the periphery and centering our lives on anything else, even our best and most noble earthly pursuits will backfire on us. When we turn good things into our ultimate things, they will go sour for us. When we plug our emotional umbilical cords into anything besides Jesus and expect them to give us life, they will steal life from us instead.

We each have something at the center of our souls that we treat as our functional treasure, as the ultimate source our own happiness and significance and flourishing. Whether it’s Jesus or someone, someplace, or something else, we all depend on these treasures to save, sustain, and govern our lives as functional lord and savior. We tell ourselves, “If I can have this, then it will be well with my soul. If I can hold on to this, things will be okay. If my thoughts, words, and deepest commitments are centered on this, my life will be worth living.”

When we think this way, we become like the rich fool in Jesus’ parable, who like Ebenezer Scrooge counts up all his money and material goods and preaches a mini-sermon to his own soul: “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” But God preaches a contradicting mini-sermon to him, saying, “Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be” (Luke 12:13-21)?

What makes this man a fool? First, he is shortsighted. With the mortality rate being one person per every one person, sooner or later he will die. When he does, he will not be able to take his things with them. They will offer no comfort, no support, and no salvation for him. As another rich, yet much wiser man once said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21).

He is also a fool for depending on created things to do for him what only his Creator can do. As Blaise Pascal once said, in each of us there is an “infinite abyss (that) can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself.” Every pursuit of ultimate satisfaction outside of God himself will lead to less satisfaction.

It’s simple math, really. Everything minus Jesus equals nothing, and Jesus plus nothing equals everything. With Jesus, every other person, place, or thing we are given to enjoy is bonus—not something to plug our emotional umbilical cords into, but rather something to offer thanks for to God.

As the Puritan, whose possessions were reduced to a single piece of bread and a single glass of water, said:

“What? All this and Jesus Christ too?”

Editor’s Note: This originally published at ScottSauls.com



The Renewal of the Body: When Shame and Weakness Give Way to Glory and Power

By / Oct 6

Have you ever planted anything?

You break the ground. You open a hole in the earth. You fill the emptiness, laying seed to rest. It decomposes. It transforms. Death yields to new birth. And then a life that’s strikingly different — and yet the same — rises from the dirt.

It happens all the time. It’s a resurrection cycle God has planted in creation.

Our bodies long for it.

The Corinthians struggled to believe in it.

In response to some in the congregation who denied the bodily resurrection of the saints, Paul argues that the resurrection of Jesus has been proclaimed as central to the gospel from the beginning (1 Cor. 15:1–12). And we cannot separate his resurrection from the people who belong to him. He’s like the point of an arrow launched into the future; it will pull the tail forward with it.

The Corinthians could stomach the resurrection of Jesus but couldn’t choke down their own resurrection. Better that all the nasty things they’ve done in the body not show up with them in the afterlife. It’s an understandable reaction.

But Paul tells them they cannot separate their resurrection from Christ’s without doing damage to the faith. They cannot split this atom without disaster.

Granting the resurrection of believers, some questions remain. Paul anticipates an objection: “But someone will ask, ‘How are the dead raised? What kind of body will they have when they come?’” (1 Corinthians 15:35, CSB).

How does it work? Explain to me exactly how this is possible. 

Naturalistic skepticism is not new.

While we might have questions about how scattered molecules are assembled again in the resurrection, believers living in first-century Greco-Roman culture had moral concerns. Is this the body that we’ll have forever? The one we’ve stained with sin? The one subject to sickness?

The Corinthians had trouble imagining how the resurrection of the body is possible — or even desirable. They suffered from a poor imagination.

We might as well. The American church has not always been clear on what awaits us. We’ve sung hymns that give the impression that our destiny is more floaty than earthy. But the Christian hope is not just to “fly away” from the body and set it aside forever. We are promised the renewal of the body.

Awareness of this renewal ought to impact how we feel about our bodies today, and what we anticipate for eternity.

Paul uses the metaphor of sowing and reaping to sanctify our imagination:

“So is it with the resurrection of the dead. What is sown is perishable; what is raised is imperishable. 43 It is sown in dishonor; it is raised in glory. It is sown in weakness; it is raised in power.” (1 Corinthians 15:42–43, ESV)

These are rich words. Consider them. Imagine with me.

From perishable to imperishable

We are sown in corruption. That’s the condition that touches a fallen creation. Everything corrupts. Everything grows stale and rotten. Everything disassembles into entropy. When you grasp it, it’s gone.

Good things move away from us. What we love breaks in our hands. We are broken.

This is what it means to be perishable.

Do you feel vulnerable? Overwhelmed? Frail? You are. Your spiritual great grandfather gave you his DNA.

Our bodies have an expiration date. Everything we are one day falls apart into dust. A cursed ground claims us again as dirt.

But what is planted corruptible comes out of the earth incorruptible. In the resurrection, we will never again be subject to injury or disease. The coronavirus cannot claim us. The human heart will never need to be shocked back into rhythm. A cancer cell will never again form in a body. It won’t hurt anymore.

Nothing will be lost. You’ll never feel like life has left you behind, like what you love has retreated from you. It will just be an indestructible joy — forever.

Anticipate imperishability.

From shame to glory

The body is sown in dishonor —it is subject to shame and shameful treatment.

Ever since Genesis 3, our bodies have been a source of shame. We hide. We don’t want our nakedness seen. We need to cover, to self-protect. We feel exposed — like someone could hurt us, or worse: see how we have hurt others.

We sense the label of what we have done, and the things that have been done to us. And we feel it in our bodies.

The trauma specialist Bessel van der Kolk describes this as “the body keeps the score.” Those who have struggled with PTSD know this.

If you’ve experienced a bad accident or suffered abuse, your body registers that awareness. It feels like you always carry it around with you. Certain settings and sounds trigger your senses and heighten your heart rate. Your body resonates with the tremors of the world around you. Telling you that it’s a dangerous place. In some cases announcing, “You should be ashamed.”

Jesus carried our shame. He bore our abuse. He shrouded his glory, veiling it — until the morning the light cut through the tomb.

And Paul says you will be glorious!

We will be, for the first time, what we were made to be. Comfortable in our skin. Content as image-bearers. A display of the delight of God in all he has made. Fit for eternity.

C.S. Lewis said that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to today may one day be a creature, which if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship. This is what it means to be glorified.

From weakness to power

We are sown in weakness. We’re subject to infirmities and deformities. We lack the ability to do anything lasting. We’re described in the Bible as wasting away.

It is sobering when the weakness becomes visible.

My wife’s grandfather held the title of being the strongest man in his state. He died, weak in body and mind.

My own Pa Pa was always an image of power to me. He seemed omni-capable. Always in charge. In fact, he tended to make the people around him nervous. After he lost my grandmother and the Alzheimer’s began to set in, he shrank physically. We watched an illness stealing away all the capacities that were once so impressive.

For some, all it took was one bad fall to take your parents away from you. All that they had done, all that their life had meant, all the moments of strength they had shown — and one little stumbling sealed the end. It’s oppressively stupid. That’s when the weakness has its way.

During this pandemic, bodies have been intubated and dependent on ventilators to survive. Some have died alone in a hospital, weak, away from the people who loved them and knew all they’d accomplished.

For Christ’s people, it won’t always be this way! We will be raised in power. We will be the product of omnipotence.

How will this transform us and the ones we love? A son formed with an additional chromosome; an adopted daughter who was addicted to drugs in the womb and whose brain is still jumbled by the effects — what will they be when the weaknesses are gone? When the unopposed power of the Creator is in full force?

What will it look like when our weakness of will, our incompetencies, our laziness, give way to power?

That’s the resurrection.