The Pastor's Justification E-Book

Jared C. Wilson

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

Seitenzahl: 292

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2013

Beschreibung

Ministry can be brutal. Discouragement, frustration, and exhaustion are common experiences for all church leaders, often resulting in a lack of joy and a loss of focus. Aiming to encourage and strengthen pastors in particular, Jared Wilson helps readers rediscover the soul-satisfying gospel of grace as he creatively merges biblical exposition and personal confession. In addition to covering topics such as holiness, humility, and confidence, Wilson explores the nature of pastoral ministry through the lens of the five solas of the Reformation. Full of real-world examples from the author's own life and ministry, this book reminds all pastors that their justification is not found in ministry success or audience approval, but rather in the finished work of Christ.

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“Jared Wilson is one of my favorite thinkers. He writes with deep conviction, and I have been moved to tears at his robust sense of God and the glorious gospel he proclaims. Of the books he has written, this one is especially edifying to me. Jared writes from the trenches where he is shepherding, leading, doing weddings, and doing funerals. He knows the highs and lows of our calling. His conviction, passion, and wit pour out onto the page as he shepherds those of us who are shepherding the flock.”

Matt Chandler, Pastor, The Village Church; President, Acts 29 Church Planting Network

“It ought to go without saying that pastors who preach the gospel need the gospel desperately themselves—but it doesn’t. In The Pastor’s Justification, Jared Wilson boldly reminds ministers where their true measure of success and fulfillment is found. This book will help shepherd shepherds back to the confidence and humility found only in Jesus.”

Ed Stetzer, President, LifeWay Research; author, Subversive Kingdom

THE PASTOR’S JUSTIFICATION

The Pastor’s Justification: Applying the Work of Christ in Your Life and Ministry

Copyright © 2013 by Jared C. Wilson

Published by Crossway

1300 Crescent Street

Wheaton, 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.

Cover design: Faceout Studio

First printing 2013

Printed in the United States of America

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are from the ESV® Bible (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version®), copyright © 2001 by Crossway. 2011 Text Edition. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture references marked NIV are taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

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

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-4335-3664-9

PDF ISBN: 978-1-4335-3665-6

Mobipocket ISBN: 978-1-4335-3666-3

ePub ISBN: 978-1-4335-3667-0

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Wilson, Jared C., 1975– 

The pastor’s justification : applying the work of Christ in your life and ministry / Jared C. Wilson.

pages cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index. 

ISBN 978-1-4335-3664-9

1. Pastoral theology. 2. Pastoral care. I. Title.

BV4011.3.W48 2013      

2012047648

253'.2—dc23

Crossway is a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.

VP             23    22    21    20    19    18    17    16    15    14    13

This book is dedicated to Mike Ayers and Ray Ortlund Jr., two pastors Jesus used to restore to me the joy of life and ministry. I love you, brothers.

CONTENTS

Foreword by Mike Ayers

Introduction

PART 1

THE PASTOR’S HEART

1  The Free Pastor

2  The Holy Pastor 

3  The Humble Pastor 

4  The Confident Pastor 

5  The Watchful Pastor 

6  The Justified Pastor 

PART 2

THE PASTOR’S GLORY

7  The Pastor and the Bible

8  The Pastor and God’s Grace 

9  The Pastor and His Faith 

10  The Pastor and the King 

11  The Pastor and Glory 

Conclusion

FOREWORD

In 1998, just three years after planting a church in northwest Houston, I was thirty-six years old, worn out, and frustrated in ministry. Despite my authentic passion for the church and my sincere desire to see fruit, I was new to pastoring, new to that level of church leadership, and naive about what I thought the experience would offer. Our congregation was not growing as I expected, and there were disagreements about what the church should be and do. Personally, there was also a deep stirring in my heart—something unresolved and broken—that left me unsure and without peace.

After several weeks of doubt about my leadership and feeling like a ministry failure, I began reaching out and seeking help. Over time I learned that the challenges I faced were really not about the church, but primarily about me. They were about a leader who was insecure, one who had never truly owned the trauma of his broken childhood, and one who didn’t affirm or celebrate his true identity in Christ.

It was through this deep time of spiritual introspection that God revealed some of my own misguided motivations. As a nineteen-year-old, I had surrendered myself to ministry out of a love for God, a love for the gospel, and a compelling vision to see people’s lives transformed. But somewhere along the way, ministry for me became more about proving to myself and to the world what a great person and leader I was. The truth is, I possessed a misguided definition of “success” in ministry and a lack of clarity and commitment to the biblical idea of the church.

Although disguised in spiritual and altruistic terms, a larger church, a bigger salary, and more prestige in ministry was what motivated me. It was only after the difficulties and failures I experienced in the challenge of planting a church that I “hit the wall” and became aware of my need for healing within.

If only I had had The Pastor’s Justification at that time!

Every pastor would readily say that the work of shepherding a church is uniquely challenging. What they might not be able to do is adequately describe those challenges beyond surface level or provide scriptural perspectives regarding them. My friend Jared Wilson explores the struggles and joys of being a pastor with unusual insight, and does so with his usual wit, skill, and biblical integrity.

This book sheds light on the paradoxes that every pastor faces—every pastor, that is, who seeks to be genuine and committed to long-term ministry. Jared explains the noble ambitions that accompany our calling, as well as the potential pitfalls of those ambitions. He draws upon the biblical images and imperatives for pastoral ministry and applies them in real-world ways. Pastors will find practical insight, genuine encouragement, and in-your-face truth. For those seeking proactive and prescriptive answers, this book will be a delight. For students planning to enter pastoral work, this book is essential!

Alternatively, The Pastor’s Justification is not just for those in pastoral ministry. Any caring church member, associate pastor, deacon, or elder board member will gain great understanding of the complexities often associated with pastoral ministry and find new ways to pray for, hold accountable, and emotionally support those who carry the mantle of church leadership.

During my discouragement in year three of pastoring, I would have been greatly strengthened through a book like this. Now after eighteen years of pastoral ministry in the same church, the lessons I’ve learned have been many, and almost all those lessons are reflected in this work. As I read, the words resonated with great clarity and encouragement.

I’ve concluded that God is as much, if not more, interested in doing a great work in us as he is in doing a great work through us. I’ve concluded that faithfulness to God’s calling is success, that the Bible always gets it right, and that leading from the place of security in Christ is leadership that is truly effective. I’ve learned that pastoring on this side of wholeness is worthwhile, both for those I lead and for myself. I’m grateful for a book that confirms the hard-learned lessons that real joy in ministry comes from joy in Christ, not in ministry, and that the real success to be celebrated is Christ’s finished work.

Thank you, God, for the reassurance, instruction, and inspiration that many pastors will gain from this writing. And thank you, Jared, for writing it.

Mike Ayers, PhD

Pastor, The Brook Church Community, Houston, Texas

Professor and Chair, Department of Leadership Studies, College of Biblical Studies, Houston, Texas

INTRODUCTION

One summer day shortly after sunrise, somewhere in the wilderness of southeast Texas, a boy between his seventh- and eighth-grade years picked up his Bible and ventured outside for his morning devotions. The year was 1989, and so was the temperature, probably. That boy was me, and I was at something called 3-D Camp, a weeklong student ministry event. What I mostly remember is drinking lemonade all week and getting in the pool, even though I would never take my shirt off, because it was blisteringly hot. And of course I remember the morning I believe God’s Spirit called me into ministry.

I had been getting up every morning, as recommended (but not required) by the camp staff, to read my Bible and pray. I had no devotional book and no plan, just the hypersensitive religious sensibilities of a neurotic and timid preteen boy raised in a Southern Baptist church (and probably the desire to impress a girl who might’ve been up at the same time for her devotions).

It had never occurred to me before that morning that I ought to be in vocational ministry. Since the first grade, I’d wanted to be a writer of some kind, a storyteller. My teacher Mrs. Palmer handed out school record books where we students could paste our school photos and then record in the requisite blanks our favorite school subjects, our favorite foods, our favorite songs, and of course, What We Wanted to Be When We Grew Up. My classmates scrawled the expected: fireman, policeman, teacher, doctor. I wrote “author.” In 1989, my authorial ambitions consisted mostly of wanting to be a staff writer for DC Comics.

My family had recently moved from my hometown of Brownsville, Texas, to Albuquerque, New Mexico. I wasn’t happy about it. I was a pimple-faced, bowl-chested, low-self-esteemed skinny kid. And I stuttered. I had managed fairly well in school up to this time because I was smart, I knew how to make people laugh, and I was a pretty good athlete, all valuable commodities in the grade-school marketplace of social ideas. But I was in a new state, at a new school, and at a new church, and I was awash with fear. With God’s grace, my parents thought it wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to spend one last summer camp with my Texas friends. So there I was at 3-D Camp, trying to make sense of my adolescent delirium in the withering Texas heat, and one morning I found myself in the bewildering thicket of Exodus 3.

Moses literally heard God’s call. I did not hear an audible voice. I was not accustomed to “hearing from God,” but I had the distinct impression that God was callingmeto be a minister. It really was as simple as that. No shining lights, no material visions, no angelic chorus. Just an alien idea suddenly in my brain. It didn’t make any sense. But I was listening. I was not gung ho. It did not feel like a good idea or something I wanted to do. (That was one reason why I believed it was coming from God.) I didn’t say anything about it to anybody that day.

At the end of the week, during the customary invitation time at the last evening worship service of 3-D Camp, as numerous students were going forward to rededicate their lives to Jesus, promising to stop drinkin’ and smokin’ and makin’ out, the camp preacher issued an invitation I had never heard before in my life. I had heard countless invitations before, earnest appeals plucking at the guiltstrings while the pianist made her way through “Just as I Am” for the second time. Sometimes many would go forward to make decisions of varying degrees; sometimes one impatient person would crack and go forward, deciding to “take one for the team” so we could beat the other churches to the Luby’s. I had seen and heard it all, but I had never heard this: “If anyone believes God has called him into ministry this week, why don’t you come forward for prayer?”

I was startled and saw in that invite a confirmation of sorts. Despite the hundreds in attendance, as far as I remember, just me and one other boy—the pastor’s son—went forward.

I didn’t know what it all meant, really. The biggest appeal to me was that I might get to be a youth minister, which meant getting all the cool CCM tapes, playing with water balloon launchers, and occasionally teaching Bible lessons. Sounded like a good gig. When I returned to Albuquerque, I found a letter waiting for me from my new youth pastor who was inviting me to be a part of a select group within the youth group called The Ministry Team. I took that as yet another confirmation I was on the right track.

Throughout high school, while my classmates were struggling to figure out what they wanted to do with their lives, what their futures might hold, the one thing this very unconfident boy knew with confidence was that I was going into “the ministry.”

As life unfolds, God tells wonderful, surprising, refining stories with our lives. My sense of calling never abated, even through the years of my life I wish I could take another swing at. Between my junior and senior years of high school, I served as interim worship leader and teacher for my youth group’s Wednesday night worship service. I took my first vocational ministry position the summer I graduated high school in 1994, when I became the youth pastor for Zion Chinese Baptist Church in Houston, Texas. In my first couple of years of professional ministry, I almost gave it up because of some difficult experiences with some ministerial superiors. Later I almost threw it all away because of my own sinfulness and the failure to protect my wife’s heart. But God was doing something. What I and others meant for evil, he meant for good. And I have learned in ministry and out over the last twenty years the secret of pastoral confidence, pastoral competence, and pastoral power: his name is Jesus Christ. I continue to relearn this secret every day.

The pastoral fraternity is an interesting one. We are a motley bunch of fools. Different personalities and tribes, different methodologies and styles, not to mention denominations and traditions and, of course, theologies. But there is something both lay elders and career elders have in common, something I’ve seen in the thirty-year senior pastor of a southern megachurch as well as the bivocational shepherd of a little, rural New England parish, the laid-back fauxhawked church planter and the fancy mousse-haired charismatic, and in nearly every pastor in between: a profound sense of insecurity for which the only antidote is the gospel.

Now, of course everyone is insecure in some way, and the security needed by all is union with Jesus Christ, but the insecurity of pastors seems a rare bird. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 11:28 of his “anxiety for all the churches.” I see it there in Moses’s hemming and hawing in Exodus 3. I certainly felt it that summer morning in 1989 when I pondered the notion of God’s call to vocational ministry the way my nine-year-old daughter might react to my asking her to move the refrigerator across the kitchen.

Is this insecurity a result of the kind of people who are drawn to ministry, or is it a result of the burden of pastoral ministry itself? I suspect a combination of both. In any event, the statistics seem crudely to bear out this line of thinking.

The Mayo Clinic warns that those in a so-called “helping professions” are high-risk candidates for burnout, because such people identify so strongly with their work that they tend to lack a reasonable balance between work life and personal life and try to be everything to everyone. This sounds like a lot of pastors I know.

From a variety of sources, ranging from the Fuller Institute to the Barna Research Group and Pastoral Care, Inc., we find these sobering numbers:

90 percent of pastors report working between 55 to 75 hours per week.

80 percent believe pastoral ministry has negatively affected their families.

90 percent feel they are inadequately trained to cope with the ministry demands.

80 percent of pastors feel unqualified and discouraged.

90 percent of pastors say the ministry is completely different than what they thought it would be like before they entered the ministry.

50 percent feel unable to meet the demands of the job.

70 percent of pastors constantly fight depression.

70 percent say they have a lower self-image now than when they first started.

70 percent do not have someone they consider a close friend.

40 percent report serious conflict with a parishioner at least once a month.

33 percent confess having engaged in inappropriate sexual behavior with someone in the church.

50 percent of pastors feel so discouraged that they would leave the ministry if they could, but have no other way of making a living.

70 percent of pastors feel grossly underpaid.

50 percent of the ministers starting out will not last 5 years.

Only 1 out of every 10 ministers will actually retire as a minister in some form.

Perhaps you identify strongly with some of these statistics. Perhaps you fear becoming a statistic yourself. Or perhaps you already have.

The right response to the survey of this wearying battlefield is not timidity or a pity party, but clinging more desperately to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The justification for the sin-prone pastor—by which I mean simply the pastor—is the same as it is for every sinner. There is no Justification 2.0 for ministers of the gospel. There is only the gospel itself—the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Fusing this reality—the reality of eternal life—to the ordinary life of pastoral ministry is what this book is about.

In Part 1: The Pastor’s Heart, we will explore 1 Peter 5:1–11, an especially helpful gospel-centered admonition to church elders. And in Part 2: The Pastor’s Glory, we will look at how the so-called “five solas of the Reformation” can help us see how to take more of ourselves out of our ministry and apply more of Christ and his gospel. My prayer is that you will find this book helpful not primarily to your pastoral “toolkit” but to your heart.

PART 1

THE PASTOR’S HEART

So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxi­eties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1 Pet. 5:1–11)

1

THE FREE PASTOR

Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly. (1 Pet. 5:2)

The best and worst of times. Now you know what pastoral ministry is.

Becoming a minister is easy. At the very most, you will need multiple years of formal theological training at great financial, mental, and emotional expense to you and your family, an official approval from your denomination’s ordination committee or assessment council, and a divine call from God. Piece of cake. It’s being a pastor that is harder than all get-out.

There are lots of things they might teach you in seminary but you don’t actually learn until you’re nose deep in them. Things like:

Churches really do split over carpet color.

Firing volunteers is the pits.

Leading formal church discipline against a friend is worse.

Some women will be forever hurt that your wife doesn’t want to be BFFs with them.

You will have some meetings that you’re not sure you will survive. Literally. Like, you might want to review your theology of self-defense and/or revisit your life insurance policy.

But also things like:

Seeing enemies reconcile on the basis of the gospel is incredible.

Counseling broken people into a time of healing is beautiful.

Hearing people profess faith in Jesus is exhilarating.

Pastoral ministry is a trove of glories and deaths. It is the kind of cross-taking nothing can prepare you for except just doing it. John Newton conjures 2 Corinthians 6:10 in one of his poems:

What contradictions meet

In minister’s employ!

It is a bitter sweet,

A sorrow full of joy.1

The pastor can be the loneliest soul in the congregation, wandering out in the point man position, scoping the land for danger all by himself, yet always feeling the tug of those needing his attention on the back of his coat. The pastor is a multitasker not just of duties but of personalities and problems. Many Christians are focused on their own journey; the biblical pastor is too, but he’s also focused on yours. And his and hers and the next guy’s. In one day he might hold a dying woman’s hand, grieve in the office with a couple on the verge of divorce, celebrate one hundred days of sobriety with someone, and then go home and laugh with his wife and kids at aMunstersrerun. The pastor is ministerially multipolar.

The vantage point of pastoral ministry is a heavy and secret thing. Good pastors aren’t always spilling everybody else’s guts, so one hour he may be rushing out on a benevolence call on his day off, and the next hour hear from another the accusation that he is selfish. (True story.) The accuser knows nothing of the benevolence call, and the good pastor does not feel compelled to defend himself using it as evidence. He has his own perspective and trusts God will vindicate him in due time when all things are revealed. The recipient of the benevolence has his perspective too. And the next day he may be asking, “But what have you done for melately?”

Sister Serious is concerned about the way Sister Broken lets her son squirm during the worship service without disciplining him. But the pastor knows that Sister Broken is recovering from an abusive ex and is growing in Christ, and that to clamp down on her about her squirmy son at this point would risk further bruising a heart in need of healing. (Also, good pastors know that little boys are squirmy.)

Very few people lose sleep over “the way the church is going.” But the pastor does.

The pastor and his flock are on cross-paths all week. Monday through Saturday, the laity are being drained from the pressures of daily life: jobs and families and shopping and just being human. The pastor runs counter. Monday through Saturday, he is being drained by the same daily life pressures, and besides that he is pouring himself out in grace as often as he can for the flock. But he is also constantly seeking to be filled up at every available opportunity, so that on Sunday, when his people enter the house of worship empty from the week’s toil, he is full to the brim with the glory of God in the gospel of Jesus Christ. Then, in preaching, he is broken open upon the rock of Christ that the living water of Christ might flow out freely and flood the valleys of his people. The laity starts Monday fresh, filled. The pastor starts Monday exhausted, empty.

This is a difficult arrangement week in and week out, mitigated wonderfully by a community of believers empowered by the Spirit to carry each other’s burdens and to encourage and edify each other outside the walls of the assembly, but it is still a difficult navigation, and many pastors and their congregations wind up too often as the proverbial ships passing in the night.

And yet, let’s not overthink it, brothers. Let us not think more highly of ourselves than we ought. Oh, we poor pitiful pastors, we sorry lot, we put-upon unprevailers! We special class, whatever will we do with ourselves?

We can nail self-pity to the cross, first off.

Deflated and Puffed Up

What do we do with this sorrowful joy? We pastors, like other normal human beings, run one of two ways, generally.

First, we wallow. We feel deflated so we act deflated. We tell ourselves we are just being honest and transparent and authentic. Really we are throwing a pity party in our own honor. Twitter and Facebook have become the new arenas for public lament, and these days we get to see just how similar some pastors are in temperament to teenage girls. But even without the spectacle of social media, it is quite possible for pastors to see themselves as merely husks of men, empty shells wafted by the wind this way and that. Always tired, always empty, menial, miserable. Swing low, sweet chariot; nobody knows the trouble pastors have seen.

But for all the brought-lowness of the minister’s task, this is not the way of pastoring. This is not the “boasting of weakness” Paul goes on about in 2 Corinthians 11 and 12. In 12:7 he says the weakness was given to him to keep him from being conceited! Not so that he would think less of himself, to paraphrase C. S. Lewis, but so he would think of himself less. This is how Paul sums up the purpose of weakness and suffering in pastoral ministry:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor. 12:9–10)

At the same time, we are learning from Paul that contentment and strength is not about pulling one’s self up by the bootstraps. If a pastor does not react to the peculiar anxiety of his ministry in the manner of a milquetoast whiny-pants, he may instead swing to the other extreme. Not deflated, he is instead puffed up.

The stereotype of the arrogant, narcissistic pastor is a stereotype for a reason. You and I have likely both met him. We have likely at times been him. I remember working at a Christian bookstore for several years while in college; the absolute worst customers were pastors. This constantly confounded me. Time and time again, my coworkers and I were subjected to some of the most unchristian condescension we’d ever experienced. We were regularly confronted by ministers accustomed to commanding the rabble in their congregations, and so they thought nothing of commanding us. Congregational deference had turned them into hard-hearted idols—at least on shopping day—and they lorded themselves over us, flabbergasted that we could not invent products they imagined or order products they could not describe or hand out extra-percentage discounts due those of their elevated status. “Do you know who I am? I’m kind of a big deal. People know me.” They were terrible advertisements for their churches, not to mention pastoral ministry in general.

It is devilishly easy us as for pastors to believe our own hype.

Leadership Directives

Pastoral ministry is a peculiar anxiety. We’ve established that. Whining about it isn’t proper. Neither is becoming a self-important blowhard. What will help us, then?

Enter the leadership cult. What we need is know-how, the publishing Powers-That-Be reason. We lack skills, practical helps, and insider tips, and they’ve got just the evangelical gurus to deliver the goods. Don’t you want to leverage your synergy and catalyze your visioneering? Don’t you want to know the seven highly effective and irrefutable laws of unlocking the mystery of who moved your cheese’s parachute? Are you a starfish or a spider? This is all key to revealing the quality ministry hidden inside of you and to taking your church to a whole ’nother level.

Whatever that means.

David Hansen calls this “trend-driven ministry.”2 Syndicated radio host Brant Hansen has skewered the evangelical leadership cult well in his blog series “The 417 Rules of Awesomely Bold Leadership.” Here is one excerpt:

Rule #398—Leave a Legacy of Awesomeness in Leadership

. . . so General Powell looked at me, his eyes welling, and said, yes, sure, there are leaders. But who is leading them?

Then he realized that okay, there are lot of people doing that. But who is leading those people, the ones who are doing that?

Well, yeah, some people are doing that. But—and here was his real question—who is leading THEM?

Well, I am.

But here’s another question, friends: Who is going to reach the next generation of leaders, and empower them to be led by someone awesome? We have a crisis here. Who will lead leading leaders when I die?

Answer: My books and CD’s, that’s who.3

Books and podcasts and conferences from the leadership cult bid us to believe that pastoral ministry is a technology, that our churches are businesses, that our flocks are customers. The answer to the sorrowful joy of pastoral ministry is not apparently “counting it all joy” but finding the sweet spot in our ministry style. People are problems to be figured out, and if they cannot be figured out, they are to be sorted out to others, and if they still cannot be figured out, they are liabilities. They simply didn’t “get the vision.”

The professionalization of the pastorate is killing the spiritual life of congregations, even congregations seeing an increase in attendance to Sunday worship. Despite the intricacy and efficiency of applied systems, many attenders of the consumer-driven church get everything they want except pastoral care. More and more, this is appearing to be by design, as more and more “awesomely bold leaders” denigrate any layperson interested in being fed and cared for. They are called babies. They are told to grow up. They are told that the church is not for them. They are called Pharisees or eggheads or “religious” jerks. A sheep who wants to be fed is seen as somebody in the way of the vision.

Mind you, it’s not that we can’t learn anything good from the titans of pastoral industry. It is just that more often than not, the good we find in them is not original, and the original we find in them is not good. Furthermore, too many of these experience-driven, management-minded promoters of ministerial technology seem pathologically unable to stick to the Scriptures. “You must be the Bible guy,” one conference speaker said to Matt Chandler in the green room. Matt replied, “Shouldn’t we all be the Bible guy?”

Brothers, there are aspects of professionalism that make sense in our modern ministry contexts, but when all is said and done, we are not managers of spiritual enterprises; we are shepherds. And shepherds feed their sheep (Ezek. 34:2–3; John 21:15–17).

Our lack of knowledge in practical pastoring is not for lack of divine revelation about the matter. The New Testament gives us plenty to work on (though never master). As I noted earlier, I’m going to walk through 1 Peter 5:1–11 in the first part of this book. It is quite likely thatwe need (daily) a practical “shift of vision,” but this daily process begins and ends with—and is held together throughout—by the ultimate vision of how God sees the Christian: with approval and delight, as one clothed in the righteousness of Christ. It is only from the grounding of the gospel of Jesus that the evangelical pastor is set free to pastor freely.

We will come back to the grounding gospel of 1 Peter 5:1 later, but for now let’s not gloss over the introductory charge. “So I exhort the elders among you” is a continuation of Peter’s thoughts in 1 Peter 4 on judgment for sin and on suffering. He then commands us to respond, beginning with the elders. Who goes first? The pastors, that’s who.

In 4:17 Peter quotes Ezekiel 9:6, reminding us that judgment begins at the house of God, and if judgment begins at the house of God, it would stand to reason that judgment of the house of God begins with those in authority. With the double honor of 1 Timothy 5:17 is the double responsibility of James 3:1.

The primary problem in pastoral ministry, brother pastor, is notthem. It’s you. You are your biggest problem. And so what we see throughout the New Testament’s practical instructions to elders is the primacy of personal responsibility. God does not chiefly tell elders how to sort out the problems of others; he primarily tells elders how to get their own lives in order. In the introduction to his excellent bookJesus-Driven Ministry, Ajith Fernando writes:

You will see that most of the ministry basics discussed here have to do with personal lifestyle. I make no apologies for this. There is a great interest in ministry technique today, and technique is important. In a world that places high value on excellence and quality, our ministries must reflect a professional excellence that will favorably adorn the gospel and commend Christ to this generation. Paul also recommended excellence in ministry to the young minister Timothy (1 Tim. 4:11–15). But I believe the greatest crisis facing Christian leadership today concerns lifestyle—always the burning issue. The well-known evangelist D. L. Moody is reported to have said that he had more trouble with D. L. Moody than with any other person he met!4

We will not neglect the practical matters of pastoring, because the Bible doesn’t do that. But we will wrestle with them under the two-fold acknowledgment that (1) commands are first for us before they’re for others, and (2) the power to obey comes from God’s grace, not ourselves.

Let’s turn to the first divine directives.

Shepherd the Flock of God That Is Among You

In 1 Peter 5:2, the apostle instructs, “Shepherd the flock of God that is among you.” Well, of course. What other flock would we have? I will tell you.

We get ahead of ourselves in thinking of our churches as our churches. They are God’s churches. We shepherd these congregations as undershepherds of the Good Shepherd. The flock among you is not immediately your flock—these people are God’s