Ministry and success…

In the time and place of my initial ministry training, no one ever articulated a vision of ministry as a career path that would lead to material prosperity or success. And yet those who served as models of the ministry being taught were indeed quite successful—even when measured by the world’s standards. As a result, we students acquired a picture of successful ministry which was a composite of spiritual and worldly definitions. Anointing and success were conflated; an exceedingly growing ministry was the mark of an exceedingly growing faith and anointing. And—as everyone knew but no one ever said—this kind of anointing was a sign of God’s approval.

Of course no one entered ministry for the purpose of obtaining material success or position; it was understood that ministry was a call of God to “w-o-r-k” and service. Yet once in ministry, one’s faithfulness and faith—in combination with God’s anointing—would produce measurable “success.” The goal then became a large church, ministry or outreach. “Big” signified more anointing, more approval, and potentially more faith. Mind you, caveats were always offered: a pastorate in a town of 2,000 would face constraints on its growth that one in a town of 200,000 did not. However in any setting, church growth became an matter of numbers. A pastor’s value was determined by his congregation’s size, budget and buildings; the itinerant preacher’s worth ascertained by his or her schedule. Mailing lists and offerings were evidence that one operated in the will of God; meeting size revealed the level of anointing. Small was not in itself bad, but the unspoken conviction held that if anointed, no ministry or church would ever remain small.

An unintended consequence of the conflation of worldly and spiritual definitions of success in ministry was to turn every ministry setback, failure or decrease into a manifestation of sin. Once numerical (and consequently monetary) growth became the hallmark of success, who one knew (rather than Who one served) became vitally important. A ministry star-system developed, generating competition to enter its ranks. Attendance at or participation in the right meetings conferred special status, while seats in the front row garnered attention. Relationships were reduced to networking, while competition replaced mentoring. Conversations offered opportunities to boast of one’s status through the dropping of names and the “sharing of inside information” about big-time ministers. Inside knowledge secured greater access, which purportedly revealed the anointing and favor of God.

What would the apostle Paul make of this ministry paradigm? He defined his ministry credentials plainly in 2 Corinthians 6:3–10:

(3) We put no stumbling block in anyone’s path, so that our ministry will not be discredited. (4) Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; (5) in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; (6) in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; (7) in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; ( through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; (9) known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; (10) sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

For Paul, the anointing of God was manifested in his endurance of suffering and resilience in the face of adversity. Success was not a matter of increase, but the church’s—corporate and individual—reception of the Spirit (Gal 3:2–3). Although singularly driven by his call to preach to the Gentiles, his writings express less a concern with numerical growth than with the apprehension of the gospel and its power.

Are we so enamored with an increase in numbers—an increase in attendance, offerings, programs, budgets and outreaches—that we unconsciously devalue the individual Christian? Do we envy the mega-church while nodding our heads sympathetically yet condescendingly at the pastor of fifty? What has become our goal in ministry?

Have we been so influenced by the world’s definitions that we pursue institutional growth over individual growth? Can we have both or must we chose? I wonder. I fear that ministry has become all about numbers, money and size. It has devolved into a business that trades in compassion and life-skills coaching. We need to do some serious reflection on the plans, purposes and pursuits of ministry in the church today. And we need to do it with a bold, forthright honesty. None of us—particularly me—is free from this. And the human heart is deceitful above all else. But there is a judgment—for everyone—that is coming. May God have mercy on us and His Church.

Learning to love the dry place…

O God, thou art my God; early will I seek thee: my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh longeth for thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is… —Psalm 63:1

I admit it: I’ve spent most of my life in the rain. I’ve lived a lush green life near rivers and lakes and oceans fed constantly by early and latter rains. Sure, there was our time in Botswana, and that drought during our first year in South Africa. But I’m not talking about weather or geography. Rather, it is of the tender nourishing rain that signifies the presence of God that I speak. There have been hard times, dry days, even a few dark weeks. But nothing like this spell in which I walk right now. What has it been? Seven years? … soon to be eight? These have been times of dust and desiccation. Arid, waterless years without even the hint of white clouds in the sky, not even one the size of a man’s hand.

How did I get here? The “faith” tradition in which I once walked might suggest that it was the result of some personal sin; some moral failing that has led me into the desert. I wrestle with the thought, for of course it is not entirely unjustified. All my life I’ve qualified for nothing more than a sentence of condemnation. If I’ve ever done anything good, it surely did not spring from a heart full of pure motives or desires. I am after all a human being, a child of Adam, conceived and riddled with sin. Even though I trusted Christ to rescue and redeem me nearly twenty-seven years ago, I have to confess that I have since then sinned repeatedly, tragically, sickeningly. Why wouldn’t God exile me to the wilderness?

Yet Scripture suggests that something else might be at work. Sure, I do qualify for nothing but condemnation; we all share that same fate. But God so loved us that He sent His only-begotten Son, Christ Jesus! That whosoever believes in Him should be saved and not perish! A judgment day is coming for all, saint and sinner alike. But today… has God some other purpose in mind for this wilderness exile?

You doubt that God would lead his children into the desert? Do you not know the Scriptures? “Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil” (Matt 4:1). “The Spirit immediately drove [Jesus] out into the wilderness. And he was in the wilderness forty days, being tempted by Satan” (Mark 1:12–13). I dare make no comparison of myself to the Lord, except to note that this state of exile is not entirely punishment. It may be instructional.

Meanwhile I pant, like a deer, for the water…seeking the lesson I am here to learn. I can only surmise that this is what God has willed for me now. Therefore it is here, in this dry and dusty desert that I find His love, and by accepting this as His will for me, I return His love—and with it, my whole self—to Him. In this place, where His presence feels so far away, perhaps I have found Him for the very first time.

A new course…

I am putting together a new course to teach at our church this summer. It will be called “Paul and His Churches: A Survey of Paul’s Ministry Through His Letters.” Ostensibly it is intended to be an introductory survey of the Pauline epistles with more than a little “life of Paul” history mixed in. Yet even as I hammer out the details I feel it morphing into something else. Can you hear it in this course description?

In the days in which we live, the Church in the western world finds itself confronting an increasingly pagan culture. At the same time, enormous pressure is placed upon the Church—both from within and without—to be relevant and non-confrontational. Ministers are encouraged to be sensitive to seekers by abandoning the vocabulary of faith and downplaying Christianity’s truth claims. In contrast the apostle Paul confronted a wholly pagan world with the biblical narrative and demanded the adoption of a radically counter-cultural lifestyle. Paul’s ministry turned Christianity into a world religion and effectively transformed human culture, while today’s Church in North America and Europe is losing its influence and authority. Might Paul have been on to something that we must recapture?

Through a devotional survey of Paul’s letters that is informed by a scholarly appreciation of their historical and cultural contexts, we will examine the issues Paul dealt with in his churches. We will consider the implications of his teachings, discuss their relevance to today and seek truth applicable to our lives as the new people of God.

I struggled to write a description that would be both provocative and compelling yet not completely over the top. It is always so easy to descend into one of my rants about the contemporary church! My hope is that the course will provide some foundation material to change that rant from mere complaint to constructive criticism. For such an outcome we must pray! In the meantime I will remind myself: “Focus!—always focus!” Stay on target and do not wander. I’ll share some insights as they develop.

And so it begins…

With this day I take the first steps towards a new life, the shape of which—in its actual contours, colors or character—have yet to be discerned. And yet it will be a life involving words and thought, bringing reflections on things religious, artistic, political and cultural, informed by an evangelical theological mindset.

With this blog, I take a tentative step toward the habit of daily writing. I have long sensed a desire to write and yet I am a reluctant extrovert— prefering to keep my counsel close, sharing my thoughts with a few in close conversation. However there is this growing, irrepressible sense that my purpose intersects somehow with the written word, thereby rendering this push-me-pull-you relationship I have with the act and process of writing as something to be overcome. And so, like all things should be, writing here will be an act (and work) of faith. It may be many things; it may be nothing. For better or worse, it will be a source of self-expression, a means of contact to a world awash in communication yet devoid of communion. And it will be an act of obedience to a calling I have yet to understand.

It would be nice to have some company on the journey, but given that I have chosen a road less traveled, I will not be surprised by the silence, nor the gap between meetings with fellow wanderers.

And so it begins… and decisively not with a bang. There are billions of voices out here already, a vast reverberation of opinion, plaint and need. I pray that my voice will not add to the cacophony. I seek instead to learn to listen to the quiet and share some of the reflections produced in that sacred space. Shall we walk?