Back To The Basics

When I first started seminary, I heard a rumor that shocked me. I heard that Christian ministry is a very competitive field, that churches and pastors compete with one another, and that within churches individuals compete for position and status. But after I thought it over, I realized that of course it must be true. And all the time I have spent in ministry has simply confirmed the obvious. Because most of us want very badly to do well, and to be recognized as doing well. Some of it comes from childhood roles and expectations, but mostly it’s just about being human. It’s very hard to let go of the need for affirmation. Most of the pastors I know well struggle to conform their desire to be successful to God’s definition of success, which is faithfulness, but it’s not easy. It’s an ongoing battle. There are a whole lot of ways in which the desire to be successful sneaks up on us when we’re not looking. I am most used to having to squelch my need to perform at the level of knowing all the answers. Many of you have heard me say, when I have to admit that I actually don't know the answer to some Biblical or theological question, that “It’s MY JOB to know.” The role I like, the one I’m used to and comfortable with, is being the person other people come to for advice or comfort or support or understanding or strength... I don’t like having to lean on other people; even the idea of being dependent scares me. Actually admitting dependence is even harder.

It is also an uncomfortable admission for me to make that I am jealous of the churches in our area which attract larger numbers than ours do.

I’d probably compete with the Apostle Paul if he were still around. I’ve always rather hero-worshiped him. So, of course, I look at this letter he wrote to the Thessalonians and wonder if I’m taking as good care of you as he did of them. And if I don’t stop myself, the next thing I’m doing is measuring the soundness - if not brilliance - of my theology and the purity of my motivations against Paul’s, and any illusion I ever had of achieving spiritual gianthood in this life goes straight out the window. It’s a good thing you’re all so good to me; if I ran into half the opposition Paul did - even from his own congregations, not to mention from the Jews, the pagans, and the local governments - I’d be crushed in no time.

If the past is any guide, I expect that I will wrestle with frustration, exhaustion, inadequacy, and doubt for the entire span of my pastoral life. There are times when I look at myself and my shortcomings and wondered, “God, why did you choose me?” It can get quite uncomfortable at times. But I hope that there never comes a day when I don’t struggle with self-doubt. Because I can think of nothing more deadly than feeling you have it all spiritually together, than believing that you deserved God’s call on your life.

Perhaps there are some of you out there who, like me, have occasionally wished that you were as spiritually mature and confident as the name-brand preachers and writers you look up to - maybe C. S. Lewis or Billy Graham. Perhaps there has been a time in your life when you have considered the possibility that God might be calling you into professional ministry and dismissed the idea because you felt that you weren’t adequate, weren’t gifted or spiritual enough. If so, it may come as a surprise to you to realize that no one is spiritual enough, or gifted enough; no one is adequate.

The Apostle Paul was a spiritual giant. But part of what made him one was that he knew he was not adequate in himself; he knew he was not independent. He was, for one thing, dependent on other people. He was supported at various times by Silas, Timothy, Luke, Mark, Onesimus, Epaphras and no doubt scores of others whose names I can’t remember or pronounce. But more important than that: he depended always on the basic truths of the Gospel, not on his own abilities. The theme of dependence sounds throughout all of Paul’s writings.

Like Paul, we are dependent. But whatever our ministry, lay or professional, whether visiting the sick, witnessing to co-workers, teaching teens or washing dishes, Paul himself is one of the most important members of our support team. When we are bewildered, discouraged, overwhelmed, or just plain stuck, the words Paul wrote to the Thessalonians speak to us as well. They were a young church. They didn’t know a lot of the things we modern Christians know. They didn’t debate inerrancy or predestination or evolution or dancing. They had probably never even considered the issue of infant vs. adult baptism. But spiritual maturity doesn’t come with theological sophistication. Spiritual giants are marked by the depth of their identification with and their dependence on Christ himself, and his victory on our behalf. Paul strengthened the Thessalonians by reminding them of the most basic, the most fundamental truths about being a follower of Jesus. We too, whether seekers, new Christians, or followers of Jesus from infancy, can be encouraged in our faith exactly as these young Christians were encouraged, by considering Paul’s words.