Mission Affirmed E-Book

Elliot Clark

• Herausgeber: Crossway
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

What will it take to accomplish Christ's mission in our lifetime? That's the question evangelicals have been asking for over a century, but our efforts to reach the unreached and finish the task have often sacrificed the important for the immediate. The greatest challenge in evangelical missions isn't a lack of urgency, but a lack of discernment. As we've prioritized movements that are simple and reproducible, the gospel and faithful churches are now threatened. Our mission itself could be disqualified. In Mission Affirmed, Elliot Clark seeks to reshape our motivation by considering the example of Paul the missionary. The desire for God's approval is what formed his ambition and directed his methods, and it should guide ours too. In these pages, we rediscover how pursuing God's praise can both motivate and regulate our gospel ministries. We also refocus—as missionaries, pastors, churches, and individuals—on what matters more than a mission accomplished: a mission God affirms. - Biblical Ministry Advice: Provides a holistic look at Paul's ministry, methods, and motivation  - A Great Resource for Church Leaders: Helps churches vet and send missionaries  - First-Hand Ministry Insights: Provides a practical solution for common weaknesses in modern missions, with descriptive examples from the author's experiences as a missionary - Published in Conjunction with the Gospel Coalition (TGC)

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“Clark calls missionaries and the churches that support them to faithful ministry that looks to God’s approval and to the reward God gives. We are so quick to live for the praise of people instead of the praise of God. Clark also corrects the idea that Paul invariably planted churches and then moved quickly on to the next field. Instead, we see that Paul continued to labor and work with churches so that they were established in truth. I would love to see every missionary and every church sending and supporting missionaries (which should be all churches!) read this book.”

Thomas R. Schreiner, James Buchanan Harrison Professor of New Testament Interpretation, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary

“Mission Affirmed is immensely practical, challenging, accessible, and hopeful. It is a call to be more thoroughly and thoughtfully biblical about why we do the things we do in missions. All of us—whether pastors or church members, goers or senders—could all benefit from this insightful book.”

Gloria Furman, author, Missional Motherhood; coeditor, Joyfully Spreading the Word

“The greatest dangers facing the church are internal, but they’re not always obvious. In Mission Affirmed, Elliot Clark reminds us of an unnoticed, even celebrated, danger undermining our mission—the lure of selfish motivations and worldly means to accomplish the Great Commission. Instead, Clark argues, we must embrace Paul’s eschatological motivation. Paul’s longing to be approved by God on the last day fueled his missionary desire and guided his missiological methods. By recovering Paul’s motivation for missions, we, too, will long to please the God who has already accepted us in Christ by his grace, and we will eschew the praise of others. Churches, pastors, Christians, missionaries, sending agencies—we all need this vital reminder.”

Juan Sanchez, Senior Pastor, High Pointe Baptist Church, Austin, Texas; author, The Leadership Formula

“Elliot Clark is unafraid to poke at sleeping bears in the world of missions. Are current mission movements biblical? Should we translate the Bible so that it is more palatable to those of other faiths? Are sending churches scrupulous about those they send? For answers, Clark looks to missiologists, missionaries old and new, and his own personal examples, but most of all, thankfully, Clark zeroes in on the apostle Paul and his work in the early church. From Paul’s examples, Clark issues both warnings and helpful corrections so that we will not be disqualified as we run the race of missions.”

J. Mack Stiles, missionary and former pastor in the Middle East; author, Evangelism

Mission Affirmed

Other Gospel Coalition Books

Confronting Christianity: 12 Hard Questions for the World’s Largest Religion, by Rebecca McLaughlin

Everyday Faithfulness: The Beauty of Ordinary Perseverance in a Demanding World, by Glenna Marshall

15 Things Seminary Couldn’t Teach Me, edited by Collin Hansen and Jeff Robinson

Finding the Right Hills to Die On: The Case for Theological Triage, by Gavin Ortlund

God’s Design for the Church: A Guide for African Pastors and Ministry Leaders, by Conrad Mbewe

Growing Together: Taking Mentoring beyond Small Talk and Prayer Requests, by Melissa B. Kruger

The New City Catechism: 52 Questions and Answers for Our Hearts and Minds

The New City Catechism Curriculum

The New City Catechism Devotional: God’s Truth for Our Hearts and Minds

The Plurality Principle: How to Build and Maintain a Thriving Church Leadership Team, by Dave Harvey

Praying Together: The Priority and Privilege of Prayer: In Our Homes, Communities, and Churches, by Megan Hill

Pursuing Health in an Anxious Age, by Bob Cutillo

Rediscover Church: Why the Body of Christ Is Essential, by Collin Hansen and Jonathan Leeman

Remember Death, by Matthew McCullough

Seasons of Waiting: Walking by Faith When Dreams Are Delayed, by Betsy Childs Howard

Word-Filled Women’s Ministry: Loving and Serving the Church, edited by Gloria Furman and Kathleen B. Nielson

Mission Affirmed

Recovering the Missionary Motivation of Paul

Elliot Clark

Mission Affirmed: Recovering the Missionary Motivation of Paul

Copyright © 2022 by Elliot Clark

Published by Crossway1300 Crescent StreetWheaton, Illinois 60187

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher, except as provided for by USA copyright law. Crossway® is a registered trademark in the United States of America.

Cover design: Jordan Singer

Cover image: Bridgeman Images

First printing 2022

Printed in the United States of America

Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

All emphases in Scripture quotations have been added by the author.

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-7380-4 ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-7383-5 PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-7381-1 Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-7382-8

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Clark, Elliot, author.

Title: Mission affirmed : recovering the missionary motivation of Paul / Elliot Clark.

Description: Wheaton, Illinois : Crossway, [2022] | Includes bibliographical references and index.

Identifiers: LCCN 2021015192 (print) | LCCN 2021015193 (ebook) | ISBN 9781433573804 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781433573811 (pdf) | ISBN 9781433573828 (mobi) | ISBN 9781433573835 (epub)

Subjects: LCSH: Bible. Epistles of Paul—Theology. | Mission of the church.| Missions—Biblical teaching. | Paul, the Apostle, Saint.

Classification: LCC BS2655.M57 C53 2022 (print) | LCC BS2655.M57 (ebook) | DDC 230—dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021015192

LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2021015193

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

2022-01-06 01:16:47 PM

To the honor of my missionary heroes,

whose good and faithful service

produces thanksgiving in me

to the glory of God

Contents

Introduction: More Than Mission Accomplished

1  Seeking God’s Approval

2  Suffering with Christ

3  Sending and Being Sent

4  Seeing the Invisible

5  Speaking the Truth Sincerely

6  Setting Boundaries

7  Sacrificing Like the Savior

8  Serving Christ and Stewarding the Gospel

Conclusion

Appendix: Questions for Churches to Ask a Missionary Candidate

General Index

Scripture Index

Introduction

More Than Mission Accomplished

Troas

From the distant horizon, ships trace into the turquoise harbor like bees on blue sky returning to their hive. They come to Troas from across the Mediterranean Basin and funnel northward, following the Aegean to this, the westernmost tip of Asia. From here, not far across the watery divide, stands Greece and the heart of the Roman Empire. Troas is a place where East meets the sea, and where the sea opens westward to opportunity. This port city is the perfect launchpad for European expedition.

So it was for Paul, for it was here where the apostle, during his second missionary journey, first received a vision summoning him to Macedonia (Acts 16:6–10), a call for help that propelled the gospel into Europe, all the way to the glorious cities of Athens and Corinth. That seminal moment, “the Macedonian Call,” has since become metaphorical for the task of Christian missions and archetypal of Paul’s ambition as a pioneer evangelist.

Perhaps that missionary compulsion led Paul back to Troas on his third journey. After spending nearly three years in Asia Minor’s Ephesus working at his trade, teaching daily in the hall of Tyrannus, and ministering in private homes, Paul was ready to move on. He desired to return and visit the believers in Macedonia and Greece, retracing his steps—as was his custom. His excursion would again begin in Troas.

In a letter to the Corinthian church, Paul tells the story of that second visit to Troas. “A door was opened for me in the Lord” (2 Cor. 2:12)—Paul’s way of saying that the power of God’s Spirit was on display as people heard and believed the gospel (Acts 14:27). Here again, this metaphor is one Christians still employ today. Missionaries, following Paul’s example, long and pray for such an occasion, for a door to be opened to declare the message of Christ (Col. 4:3).

Striking, though, is what Paul recounts next. That moment—when the Holy Spirit was at work and the gospel was bearing fruit—Paul left.

As my teenaged son would say, “Wait, what?” What could lead Paul, the pioneer missionary with a driving passion to reach the unreached, to walk away from an open door? What was it that, while not incredibly urgent, became for Paul more important?

From his letter to the Corinthians, we discover that Paul had apparently come to Troas with multiple intentions. Among them, he wanted to preach the gospel. But Troas was a rendezvous point. Paul was there waiting for his colleague, Titus, likely due any day onboard a ship from Corinth.1 And Paul was concerned about the news he would bring. Had the Corinthian church received Paul’s message and his messenger? How did they respond to the apostle’s stinging rebuke? Was their relationship intact or in ruins?

Perhaps every so often Paul would venture out onto the docks or ascend the craggy cliffs overlooking Troas’s harbor and spy for the latest ship arriving from the West. As time wore on and Titus didn’t show, Paul says he became unsettled. Despite the incredible opportunity for witness before him, anxiety grew within him (2 Cor. 2:12–13). He was disturbed to the point of abandoning Troas—again, for a second time.

Evangelization of the World in Our Lifetime

As early as 1900, at the turn of the last century, John R. Mott put to page what had already become the rallying cry of the Student Volunteer Movement for Foreign Missions: “The Evangelization of the World in This Generation.”2 As a burgeoning Protestant organization made up of ambitious young people from Western nations such as the United States, Canada, Great Britain, and Ireland, these students saw the urgent global need and unprecedented opportunity to take the gospel to the whole world in their lifetimes. They believed it could be done.

Looking back on these youthful forebears from an optimistic era, we might be tempted to snicker at such audacity. With the clarity of hindsight, we can now see how that vision was destined for failure. In fact, we could note that the glowing enthusiasm of many Protestants in that day didn’t materialize into global evangelization but, instead, faded in the shadows of world wars.

Yet from the darkness of World War II a new generation of missionaries and strategists emerged that once again roused the church to consider her role in the world and the possibility of reaching the uttermost parts of the earth. Perhaps the foremost proponent of this vision was Ralph Winter, professor at the School of World Mission at Fuller Seminary, who, along with Donald McGavran, inspired a new generation of Christian ambassadors and simultaneously raised the stakes for the church’s mission. At Lausanne I in 1974, the First International Congress on World Evangelization, Winter brought the world’s “hidden peoples” into view, broadening the Great Commission call to reach all nations—previously understood as geopolitical nation states—by unveiling the lostness of ethnolinguistic people groups. The insight and writing of McGavran and Winter infused missions with a fresh urgency while inspiring a renewed optimism. Once those people groups had been located, the task would become definable and therefore attainable.3

Today, we’re still riding the wave of that transformative vision. In subsequent decades, countless ministries and organizations have made it their ambition to identify, classify, and reach the unreached. With scientific precision we’ve now determined the scope of our mission, and we’re increasingly motivated by the possibility of its accomplishment. The missions community is once again buoyed by the hope of “finishing the task.” Like John Mott and the Student Volunteer Movement of that bygone era, many today are convinced that we’ll see the completion of the missionary mandate within our lifetimes. It’s all within reach.4

But what does this have to do with Paul leaving Troas?

Many Christians assume a narrative of the apostle’s ministry: that his singular ambition was to preach the gospel to those who hadn’t heard, in lands yet unreached.5 In extreme cases, Paul can be presented as not much more than a one-dimensional character from a mass market paperback. According to this reading, all he cared about was the next city, the next people group, the final frontier. To be fair, the book of Acts can contribute somewhat to this assumption, as Luke’s story races along with Paul scurrying from one location to the next. And when we read Paul’s letter to the church in Rome—a city he had yet to visit—we find him already talking about the next destination, Spain.

But Troas—and Paul’s tenuous and tear-filled relationship with the church at Corinth—presents another dimension. Paul’s ministry was motivated by more than the pioneer advance of the gospel.6 The anxiety he felt about Corinth was common to his experience with multiple churches (2 Cor. 11:28). He was constantly concerned with issues of ecclesial unity, moral purity, theological accuracy, and leadership development. Paul’s goal wasn’t just to preach the gospel but to teach the whole counsel of God and present everyone mature in Christ (Acts 20:27; Col. 1:28). Paul was a goer and, sometimes when possible, a stayer. He also devoted significant time to his tentmaking vocation and, when necessary, defended his personal reputation (Acts 18:1–3; cf. 20:33–35). In the last years of his ministry, he even invested much effort and relational capital to provide for the poor believers in Jerusalem (1 Cor. 16:1–4; 2 Cor. 8:1–9:15; Rom. 15:25–32), not just to raise support for his mission to the remote boundaries of the Mediterranean.

Perhaps most overlooked of all, Paul was motivated by the approval of God. As he mentions repeatedly in his Corinthian correspondence, his driving ambition—one of many—was to receive, on the last day, God’s commendation (1 Cor. 4:5; 2 Cor. 5:9–10; 10:18). This pursuit of God’s praise, while of critical importance, also led Paul to seek the affirmation of others, including his church plants. If they moved on from the apostle and his teaching, Paul was concerned for their position before Christ. If other teachers emerged who didn’t build appropriately on the foundation Paul laid, he knew it spelled disaster. And it was this concern—an issue Titus was bringing word about—that pulled Paul away from a wide-open door for evangelism. So, whatever we might assume about Paul’s priorities in mission and his zealous ambition for reaching the unreached, we must also take his anxious departure from Troas into account. In a sense, it was a kind of reverse Macedonian call.

Missions in an Age of Two-Day Delivery and Disposable Culture

I’ll never forget the phone call that changed my view of missions forever. Our family was living in one of the most unreached pockets of one of the most unreached nations in the world. When we’d first moved to the Central Asian city that we called home, the nearest church was five hours away. You could jump in a car and drive for hundreds of miles in any direction, passing innumerable towns and villages, knowing that every single person you saw was Muslim. Not only were the people not Christian, but they’d likely never heard a clear explanation of the gospel—and they had little prospect of hearing it anytime soon.

As I would travel throughout this region, I was always struck by the vastness of its lostness, a reality tauntingly echoed by the rambling, windswept mountains across the endless, treeless steppe. The land was barren, sun-scorched, and thirsty for the gospel. The indescribable need led us to plant our family there.

But here I was, on the phone with my colleague and supervisor, letting him know we’d decided to move on. I could list all the reasons I gave him, but they’re not essential to this telling. What’s important to know is that we felt compelled by circumstance and by God’s Spirit to leave.

In our relatively short time in that city, God had blessed. Some had come to faith. Some were baptized. We had a small congregation gathering regularly for worship—a church in embryonic form. While our leaving wouldn’t necessarily terminate the life of that body, I knew it would severely threaten its viability. A few of the believers had already moved elsewhere for university or to follow work opportunities. Among those who stayed, we were facing internal strife and division, due in part to fears of police infiltration—from within our small group. This had shaken the confidence of all, but especially the newest believers whose faith was fragile. We also sensed that the government would soon deny residency to the few other missionaries on our team. Our labor of love was in real jeopardy.

As I communicated this situation and our decision to leave, my supervisor’s response was measured but caring. I’m grateful for his understanding, because the reasons for our departure were personal and painful. We didn’t want to leave; we felt we had to. And he sought to comfort us in our difficult choice. But then, at a pivotal point in the conversation, he shared something that, in my grief, was no consolation. It lingers with me to this day: “I’ve been in this country for a long time,” he reflected, “but I’ve never really seen a church planted and sustained long-term without the involvement of a strong national partner.”

His words hit a nerve. Years earlier we’d left another city within the same country to come to this more remote region. At the time, we felt compelled to move. The sheer numbers called us. Statistically, this was the least-reached place we could find on the map. But beyond personal calculations, our organization’s leadership was urging us to push eastward and northward into a territory unengaged by other missionaries. No one else was going. Would we answer the call?

But there was one problem: no local believer was ready or willing to come with us. In fact, whenever we shared our vision to go to this unreached and religiously conservative region, most of the national believers cautioned against it. “It’s dangerous there; are you sure?” “We’d never consider going there.” “Why wouldn’t you just stay here and help us?”

What is a missionary to do in such a situation? How would you respond? At the time, I was convinced that the courageous and faithful response—what a pioneer missionary like Paul would do—was to go. The urgent need of the hour was for someone to storm the gates of hell, with or without an accompanying army. Waiting wasn’t an option. What if we could never convince a national to join our team? Should we just delay our mission indefinitely?

Perhaps it goes without saying, but Americans don’t do well with delays. We live in an age of two-day delivery, when you can receive just about any essential (or nonessential) item at your doorstep within forty-eight hours. If you’re ordering milk or cookies, it might only be a matter of minutes. Western Christians also come from a more task-driven and time-conscious culture. Relationships and partnerships, while valued, aren’t primary. Maybe most significant of all, few of us operate with a long-term vision. Prudence and patience are social virtues of the past. Our consumeristic culture has given rise to throwaway culture. We value novelty and immediacy more than durability.

This phenomenon might be most obvious in modern architecture. What we build today is gone tomorrow. We don’t construct edifices that remain and survive. Gone are the days of cathedrals and castles. Instead, we erect shopping malls and shanties that, within our lifetime, will flatten by wind or by wrecking ball. The same could be said of Christian missions. It would be foolish to assume that our prevailing cultural atmosphere doesn’t in some way influence the way we envision overseas ministry.

In missions, we recruit missionaries with urgency, not toward longevity. We tend to go fast, or we don’t go at all. We invest untold material and personnel resources to help others in the short term but do so in ways that often hurt them in the long run. We start countless programs and projects, only to watch many fizzle out and die. While our missionary mantra of late has been “Work yourself out of a job,” one has to wonder if a more appropriate goal would be, “Build something that lasts.”

“Mission Accomplished”: The Infamous Words of Western Confidence

In spring 2003, thirty miles off the coast of California on waters gently rippled like gray slate, the crew aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln were making final preparations for the arrival of the sitting American president. The sun’s light diffused through a skin of high clouds over the calm Pacific. Halfway around the world it wasn’t nearly as serene. The United States was engaged in an intense conflict with the country of Iraq—for exactly six weeks.

I remember sitting in front of the television that March watching the “shock and awe” campaign designed to swiftly bring Saddam Hussein to his knees and eliminate the supposed threat of WMDs. As we watched the fighting unfold from the comfort of our couches, many Americans were relieved to see that the initial surge of the U.S.-led coalition was overwhelmingly successful. In a matter of days, the mission objectives of our allies were being accomplished. By May 1, President George W. Bush was prepared to make a statement to the nation about the state of the war, and he chose the deck of the Lincoln as a symbolic stage for his historic address.

But that speech soon became one of the most infamous and ironic moments of recent American history. In it, President Bush declared that major operations in Iraq had ended and the United States, along with her allies, had prevailed. While his words did offer some cautions about the difficult road ahead, the pomp and circumstance of the event conveyed a mood of triumphalism. Americans with a sense of the past couldn’t help but equate it with Douglas MacArthur’s postwar victory speech aboard the USS Missouri. However, as we know, the U.S. involvement in Iraq—including significant escalation in the region with the subsequent advent of ISIS—has continued to this day, making a mockery of American overconfidence in her Mideast campaign. Emblematic of that naïve self-assuredness is the massive banner that was draped astride the Lincoln in preparation for the president’s arrival, emblazoned with the words: “Mission Accomplished.”

If there’s one thing history should teach us, it’s that commitments to speed and blind self-confidence rarely combine to produce appreciable results. But one of the curious dynamics of Western culture is the odd marriage of these competing characteristics. On the one hand, we like to live in the moment; we prefer to do things fast. On the other, we seem to have incredible confidence in ourselves and the staying power of our efforts. In my experience, these characteristics also shape much of our missionary enterprise.

My concern, and one reason for writing this book, is that we’re living at a time in global missions today when the gospel and faithful ministry are threatened by the tyranny of the urgent. We’re driven by a vision of “Mission Accomplished.” To that end, we’ve often sacrificed the important for the immediate, the best for the most pressing. Over the last few decades, as our focus has been on reaching the unreached and finishing the task, we’ve increasingly prioritized rapid reproduction, with a programmatic and results-driven focus that looks more like Western capitalism and business franchising than genuine Christlike servanthood and faithful stewardship.7

Democratization of Missions

We live in a day of what could be called the democratization of missions. Everyone is a missionary, and everything we do is mission. As the world continues to shrink, our opportunities keep expanding. But in such a situation, how do we prioritize our limited resources? How does a church know whom to support or where to go? And how can we determine if what we’re doing is faithful to Christ’s gospel and our mandate?

It’s not enough to just do something. In this hour, one temptation for the church is to respond to the urgent global need by simply trying our best while aiming at the nebulous goal of God’s glory. Even if we don’t know whether we’re effecting change or doing lasting good, we might at least find solace with the impossibility of our task, the nobility of our intentions, and the sovereignty of our God. When our efforts collapse and no legacy survives, we might surrender to the words of the psalmist, “Unless the Lord builds the house, / those who build it labor in vain” (Ps. 127:1).

Don’t misunderstand me. The need for building is undoubtedly urgent; the task before us is truly unfinished. So I resonate with voices that call for immediate action. I also appreciate the emphasis on glorifying God and an accompanying God-centered confidence that totally depends on him for success. But there’s a wrong way to rest in God’s sovereignty while taking great risk. If we steward Christ’s gospel and the church’s resources yet end up with nothing to show for it, God is not honored. Nor will we be.

Jesus taught that the honorific commendation “Well done, good and faithful servant” is reserved for those who spend wisely, who produce a return on God’s investment (Matt. 25:14–30). Paul says much the same, though using the metaphor of construction. Only those who build with the right materials can expect a recompense for their labor: “If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss” (1 Cor. 3:14–15).

In 1 Corinthians, as in many places throughout the Corinthian correspondence, Paul reveals how God’s judgment was a controlling influence over his mission—as it should be over all our missions. What matters on the last day is God’s approval of our work and the lasting value of our efforts.8 Of course, Paul wasn’t talking about the structural integrity or legacy of a brick-and-mortar structure in Kampala or Chattanooga. He was suggesting that our reward as ministers of the gospel is directly tied to the quality of our labors. Shoddy work will not be praised.

Today, I’m deeply concerned that much of evangelical Christian missions is a straw house built on a sandy shore. Some of the stories that I’ll share throughout this book will reveal as much. From my years living in Asia to my current travels around the globe, what I find are missionaries and ministries with the unbiblical view that, when it comes to missions, any effort is commendable. Equally troubling, many assume that the all-important goal of reaching the lost validates our use of almost any means.

My purpose in this book isn’t to criticize or unhelpfully shame; rather, I’m compelled to recount these stories and raise the caution flag—perhaps we need to slow down if danger is around the bend. I also want to call us to another goal, a different end. At such a time as this, we don’t necessarily need more impassioned pleas about opportunity and urgency. While those are important, I’m convinced that what we desperately need are voices of discernment, calls for wise investment, and plans for better building.

This book will not answer all our missiological questions, but it will seek to reframe the discussion and reshape our desires by reconsidering the life of Paul. As we observe a more well-textured portrait of the apostle and his ministry, we’ll find that he often describes the goal of his life in terms of seeking God’s approval. The quest for God’s praise is what guided Paul’s missionary ambition and directed his missionary method.

God’s Approval: The End That Guides Our Means

Books about missions tend to focus on either means or ends. Even though they discuss both, inevitably their content is tilted in one direction or the other. Some explore the great purposes of our calling, such as the salvation of the lost, the blessing of God for all nations, and the worship of God from all peoples. Other resources examine missionary methods, such as cross-cultural communication, ministries of mercy, evangelism and discipleship, urban strategies, and church planting—to name only a few.

There is also a formidable tradition of Christian literature that considers the person and ministry of the apostle Paul. Those resources tend to look at his life as exemplary, presenting Paul as the model missionary. As such, they investigate his theology and motivation as well as his strategy and method. The assumption in many cases is that Paul’s ambition and approach are at least somewhat normative for Christian missions today.9

But what I’ve found is that we rarely reflect at length on one of the explicit and often repeated goals of Paul: his desire for God’s affirmation.10 Subsequently, we’ve rarely considered how this overarching motivation for honor and recognition on the last day had a significant role to play in guiding Paul’s missionary approach.

Paul expresses this goal in numerous ways, whether attaining commendation (1 Cor. 4:5; 2 Cor. 10:18) or avoiding disqualification (1 Cor. 9:27), seeking a reward (1 Cor. 3:14; 9:17) or a weight of glory (2 Cor. 4:17), having reason to boast in his sacrifice (1 Cor. 9:15), and even expecting others to boast of him before Christ (2 Cor. 1:14). Whenever we see Paul talk this way, we also find him discussing how his keen awareness of the final judgment was a kind of internal compass that consistently led him in the appropriate direction—on practical issues such as contextualization, partnerships, and giving. As we wrestle with the question of how to do missions like Paul, we’ll understand how often we ignore one of the key components to his wisdom and effectiveness.11

Of course, as soon as we talk about pleasing God, earning a reward, and receiving God’s praise, we’re entering murky waters that many evangelicals would rather avoid. We’re theologically committed to justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. Any mention of meritorious labor sounds like works-righteousness that inevitably leads to arrogance—which we know doesn’t result in our justification (Luke 18:9–14). We’re also committed to living for God’s glory alone. We cross the seas with the gospel because God deserves the praise of all nations.12 Therefore, doing missions in view of one day receiving honor from God seems sacrilegious. Such self-seeking is antithetical to the altruistic motives which we assume are superior.13

But we evangelicals also base our faith on Scripture alone. And here is where the biblical witness reveals some of our theological and cultural blind spots. For one, Paul was deeply influenced by the theological concept of divine judgment and reward—including qualitative levels of each—just as Jesus taught. In Luke’s Gospel alone there are over forty promises of reward or warnings of judgment based on an individual’s works. Specifically related to money, Jesus promised a great reward in the kingdom for those who do good and lend to their enemies (Luke 6:35). He promised “moneybags” in heaven for those who give to the needy on earth (Luke 12:33). And he promised a repayment at the resurrection for hospitality toward the poor (Luke 14:14). A central component of Jesus’s ethical teaching included motivating his disciples through the opportunity for future rewards.

Paul also lived in a culture that esteemed honor and despised shame. In Corinth, and throughout the Greco-Roman world, many everyday decisions revolved around the pursuit of reputation and reward.14 But rather than outright reject such self-interest as sinful, Paul redirects it. Like Jesus before him, he calls us to seek glory from God rather than from others (John 5:44). In fact, this motivation exerted significant influence over Paul’s missionary ethos, knowing that greater glory was reserved for those who suffered well, humbly served, and faithfully stewarded the gospel.

As a young person, I was always fascinated by Paul. At some point during my time studying missions at a small Bible college, the letter of 2 Corinthians captured my attention and imagination. Like no other book in the Bible, this epistle was a window into the passionate—and often anguished—heart of the apostle. It showed what moved him. In it, I saw Paul talking in ways that were extremely personal and vulnerable. As much as he expounded God’s glory and the history of redemption, he pleaded with his friends and beloved partners. Here wasn’t dispassionate theological reflection or even purely altruistic motivation. Instead, 2 Corinthians showed me a missionary fully invested, what a real person looks like doing real ministry. In 2 Corinthians, Paul speaks candidly. His missionary heart is exposed for all to see (2 Cor. 6:11).

Not surprisingly, then, the first chance I had to preach in a church, I turned to 2 Corinthians, to what had become one of my favorite passages in the Bible:

Here for the third time I am ready to come to you. And I will not be a burden, for I seek not what is yours but you. For children are not obligated to save up for their parents, but parents for their children. I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more, am I to be loved less? (2 Cor. 12:14–15)

The few people who heard that sermon over twenty years ago surely have no recollection of what I said, but it’s possible they remember my conviction. Whatever was lost in depth and nuance was made up for in passion. I was compelled by the example of Paul, and I did my level best to communicate it to my hearers. I did so by describing Paul’s understanding of Christian ministry—genuine Christlike servanthood—based on these two short verses. Like many aspiring preachers, I organized it into three basic points. The ministry of Paul, I argued, was marked by responsibility, sacrifice, and vulnerability.

That last point gripped me. At the time, I had little experiential knowledge of ministry. The rigors and relational pressures of a pastor or missionary had yet to touch me. Yet I couldn’t help but be captivated by the vision of a servant of Christ who would willingly—and gladly—give his life for others. Not only that, but he would allow their ongoing needs and struggles to drain him personally, to distract him from what he most desired. Paul was willing to be inconvenienced for the sake of the gospel, to spend and be spent for the Corinthians (2 Cor. 12:15). They were the reason he left Troas.

The distressing decision to abandon that open door reveals Paul’s utmost care for the Corinthians. As he took pains to demonstrate, Paul wasn’t just some peddler of the gospel looking for a buck, for converts to his cause, or for more participants in a pyramid scheme stretching across the known world. Paul was deeply and personally concerned for the Corinthians themselves, for their eternal souls. His willingness to change plans didn’t betray an unreliable fickleness. Just the opposite. It showed his utter dependability as a father who would do anything for his wayward and weak children.

Today, long after that first sermon, Paul is still my missionary hero. And 2 Corinthians still fascinates and perplexes me. Why would someone who ultimately cares about God’s opinion and approval seem to care so much about the approval and opinion of the Corinthians? Why does someone who boasts only in God and his gospel seem to boast in himself and what God has done through him? How is it that faithfulness is the true measure of a steward, yet Paul suggests that his ministry is also validated by its fruitfulness?

These are only a few of my questions. In a way, this book is an excuse for me to think more deeply about them, to reflect on Paul’s complex life and ministry, and to meditate on his transparent yet enigmatic correspondence with the Corinthians. But more than my personal musings, I pray this book will serve us all as we consider both the means and ends of our mission. I want us to explore together what faithful gospel ministry looks like when God’s approval guides our ambition.

1  For a summary of the events preceding the composition of 2 Corinthians, see David E. Garland, 2 Corinthians (Nashville: B&H, 1999), 26–30.

2  John R. Mott, The Evangelization of the World in This Generation (New York: Student Volunteer Movement for Foreign Missions, 1900).

3  For example: “In the 1970s, the Lord began to open the eyes of many to the fact that the irreducible, essential mission task of a breakthrough in every people group was also a completable task.” See Ralph D. Winter and Bruce A. Koch, “Finishing the Task: The Unreached Peoples Challenge,” Joshua Project website, accessed April 10, 2020, joshuaproject.net/assets /media/articles/finishing-the-task.pdf, 539.

4  Others have questioned this perspective, and a growing number of missiologists and mission agencies are rethinking the way we designate people groups. See Peter T. Lee and James Sung-Hwan Park, “Beyond People Group Thinking: A Critical Reevaluation of Unreached People Groups,” Missiology: An International Review 46, no. 3 (2018): 212–25.

5  Paul’s stated ambition “to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named” (Rom. 15:20) doesn’t preclude the reality that he had multiple aims in his apostolic ministry.

6Dean Gilliland acknowledges that “the work for spiritual conversion had prior claim on Paul’s life,” yet there are many aspects of his holistic ministry that the Bible describes in ways “so matter-of-fact that it would be easy to miss” the various features of Paul’s mission. See Dean S. Gilliland, Pauline Theology and Mission Practice (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1983), 65.

7  See Lesslie Newbigin, The Open Secret: An Introduction to the Theology of Mission (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), 124–28.

8  As D. A. Carson writes, “Paul understands that what ultimately matters is whether or not we gain the Lord’s approval . . . what matters most in God’s universe is what God thinks of us, whether we are approved by him.” See D. A. Carson, A Model ofChristian Maturity: AnExposition of 2 Corinthians 10–13 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2019), 103.

9  This assumption has been challenged in recent years. See David J. Bosch, Transforming Mission (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 1997). On the validity and necessity of following Paul, see Roland Allen, Missionary Methods: St. Paul’s or Ours? (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1962). Contra Bosch, see also Peter J. O’Brien, Gospel and Mission in the Writings of Paul (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1995), 83–107.

10  As one example, see Eckhard J. Schnabel, “Paul the Missionary,” in Paul’s Missionary Methods, eds. Robert L. Plummer and John Mark Terry (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2012), 33.

11  As David Bosch quotes from Paul Minear: “One aim of missiology is a more adequate understanding of the apostolic task of the Church. One aim of exegetical theology is a more adequate understanding of the mind of the biblical writer. When, therefore, the exegete deals with the apostle Paul, and when missiology accepts Paul’s apostolic work as normative for the continuing mission of the Church, then these two aims coalesce.” See Bosch, Transforming Mission, 170.

12  This was the thrust of John Piper’s influential book, Let the Nations Be Glad: The Supremacy of God in Missions (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1993).

13  For an example of this assumption and the preference for altruism in missions, see David Joannes, The Mind of a Missionary (Prescott, AZ: Within Reach Global, 2018).

14  “Corinth was a city where public boasting and self-promotion had become an art form. The Corinthian people thus lived with an honor-shame cultural orientation. . . . In such a culture a person’s sense of worth is based on recognition by others of one’s accomplishments.” See Ben Witherington, Conflict and Community in Corinth: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary on 1 and 2 Corinthians (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1995), 8.

1

Seeking God’s Approval

Corinth

Surrounded by his railing accusers in the heart of the city’s bustling forum, the apostle Paul stood before the Corinthian tribunal, at the imperial judgment seat of Gallio. Paul’s crime, according to his Jewish plaintiffs, was that he was persuading others to worship God in ways that contradicted the law of Moses. As the Jewish leaders made their opening arguments before Gallio, Paul prepared his own statement. He would be forced to make a plea to the proconsul of Achaia without the luxury of an attorney.

However, in a strange irony, Paul must have felt a tinge of relief for the opportunity to have his day in court rather than face mob justice. On his first missionary journey, he encountered unruly masses who incited violence against him from Pisidia to Lycaonia. On his second journey, following the call to Macedonia, Paul was beaten and jailed in Philippi. Undeterred, he traveled to Thessalonica and entered the synagogue, reasoning from the Scriptures that it was necessary for the Messiah to suffer. Apparently, suffering was also necessary for Paul, because the Jews there roused a rabble that “set the city in an uproar” (Acts 17:5), eventually chasing him all the way to Berea.

It shouldn’t be surprising, then, that when Paul eventually made his way to Corinth, he came “in weakness and in fear and much trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3). He no doubt still bore the scars, physical and emotional, from multiple beatings. That Paul went straight to the Corinthian synagogue doesn’t betray a rugged confidence or bravado as much as an inner compulsion to make Christ known wherever he went.

Still, Paul had to wonder on arrival in Corinth if this would be another abbreviated stop. But as he began to preach Christ crucified—and again face opposition—the Lord appeared to him with a promise of comfort and hope: “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are my people” (Acts 18:9–10). Instead of fear, Paul was to take courage and continue. Instead of running, he was to remain in Corinth. For the first time in nearly five years, he would put down roots in one place.

But then came his date in court.

Among all the thoughts flooding Paul’s mind as he stood before Gallio, he must have rehearsed those reassuring words of Jesus. He recalled that no harm would befall him. But he also remembered that he couldn’t stay silent. He was there to bear witness to Christ. However, before Paul could open his lips and make a defense for the hope of Israel—just as he was about to speak—Gallio rendered his verdict. As an internal dispute among Jews about innocuous terminology and their religious practice, his court wouldn’t accept the complaint (Acts 18:12–15). Gallio threw out the case.