NOTE: Below is an excerpt from John Piper's revised and expanded edition of Brothers, We Are Not Professionals, a series of sobering essays with fellow pastors to abandon the professionalization of the pastorate and to pursue the prophetic call for radical ministry. This book is strongly recommended.
We pastors are
being killed by the professionalizing of the pastoral ministry. The mentality
of the professional is not the mentality of the prophet. It is not the
mentality of the slave of Christ.
Professionalism has nothing to do with the essence and heart of the Christian
ministry. The more professional we long to be, the more spiritual death we will
leave in our wake. For there is no professional childlikeness (Matt. 18:3);
there is no professional tenderheartedness (Eph. 4:32); there is no
professional panting after God (Ps. 42:1).
But our first business is to pant after God in prayer. Our business is to weep
over our sin (James 4:9). Is there professional weeping?
Our business is to strain forward to the holiness of Christ and the prize of
the upward call of God (Phil. 3:14); to pummel our bodies and subdue them lest
we be cast away (1 Cor. 9:27); to deny ourselves and take up the
blood-spattered cross daily (Luke 9:23). How do you carry a cross
professionally? We have been crucified with Christ; yet now we live by faith in
the one who loved us and gave Himself for us (Gal. 2:20). What is professional
faith?
We are to be filled not with wine but with the Spirit (Eph. 5:18). We are
God-besotted lovers of Christ. How can you be drunk with Jesus professionally?
Then, wonder of wonders, we were given the gospel treasure to carry in clay
pots to show that the transcendent power belongs to God (2 Cor. 4:7). Is there
a way to be a professional clay pot?
We are afflicted in every way but not crushed, perplexed but not driven to
despair, persecuted but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of
Jesus (professionally?) so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested
(professionally?) in our bodies (2 Cor. 4:9-11).
I think God has exhibited us preachers as last of all in the world. We are
fools for Christ's sake, but professionals are wise.
We are weak, but professionals are strong. Professionals are held in honor; we
are in disrepute. We do not try to secure a professional lifestyle, but we are
ready to hunger and thirst and be illclad and homeless. When reviled, we bless;
when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we try to conciliate; we have
become the refuse of the world, the offscouring of all things (1 Cor. 4:9-13).
Or have we?
Brothers, we are not professionals! We are outcasts. We are aliens and exiles
in the world (1 Pet. 2:11). Our citizenship is in heaven, and we wait with
eager expectation for the Lord (Phil. 3:20). You cannot professionalize the
love for His appearing without killing it. And it is being killed.
The aims of our ministry are eternal and spiritual. They are not shared by any
of the professions. It is precisely by the failure to see this that we are
dying.
The life-giving preacher is a man of God, whose heart is ever athirst for God,
whose soul is ever following hard after God, whose eye is single to God, and in
whom by the power of God's Spirit the flesh and the world have been crucified
and his ministry is like the generous flood of a life-giving river.1
We are most emphatically not part of a social team sharing goals with other
professionals. Our goals are an offense; they are foolishness (1 Cor. 1:23).
The professionalization of the ministry is a constant threat to the offense of
the gospel. It is a threat to the profoundly spiritual nature of our work. I
have seen it often: the love of professionalism (parity among the world's
professionals) kills a man's belief that he is sent by God to save people from
hell and to make them Christ-exalting, spiritual aliens in the world.
The world sets the agenda of the professional man; God sets the agenda of the
spiritual man. The strong wine of Jesus Christ explodes the wineskins of
professionalism. There is an infinite difference between the pastor whose heart
is set on being a professional and the pastor whose heart is set on being the
aroma of Christ, the fragrance of death to some and eternal life to others (2
Cor. 2:15-16).
God, deliver us from the professionalizers! Deliver us from the "low,
managing, contriving, maneuvering temper of mind among us."2 God, give us tears for our sins.
Forgive us for being so shallow in prayer, so thin in our grasp of holy
verities, so content amid perishing neighbors, so empty of passion and
earnestness in all our conversation. Restore to us the childlike joy of our
salvation.
Frighten us with the awesome holiness and power of Him who can cast both soul
and body into hell (Matt. 10:28).
Cause us to hold to the cross with fear and trembling as our hope-filled and
offensive tree of life. Grant us nothing, absolutely nothing, the way the world
views it. May Christ be all in all (Col. 3:11).
Banish professionalism from our midst, Oh God, and in its place put passionate
prayer, poverty of spirit, hunger for God, rigorous study of holy things,
white-hot devotion to Jesus Christ, utter indifference to all material gain,
and unremitting labor to rescue the perishing, perfect the saints, and glorify
our sovereign Lord.
Humble us, O God, under Your mighty hand, and let us rise, not as professionals,
but as witnesses and partakers of the sufferings of Christ. In His awesome
name. Amen.
1. John Piper and Wayne Grudem, Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Books, 1991), 16.
2. Richard
Cecil quoted in E. M. Bounds, Power
through Prayer (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker Book House, 1972),
59.
by Joseph Rhea
As a man
entering my late 20s, I've been thinking a lot lately about what it
means to grow in masculinity in a God-honoring way. Men my age hear a
Babel of voices telling us what manhood looks like. I came to Christ in a
college ministry where most of the leaders were extroverted, athletic,
and aggressive. They they didn't uphold these things as parts of true
manhood, but I feared on some level that I wasn't going to become much
of a man (being introverted, bookish, and more laid-back).
Many "traditional"
voices for Christian manhood speak mostly in negative terms about modern
expressions of manhood: mockery, complaint, deploring ("Grow up!").
On the other hand, however, few voices from our own generation say
anything at all about manhood: they downplay or ignore differences
between men and women.
But I want
to "grow up." I am a man, and I want to be living out my manhood in a
way that gives glory to God. I want to know what being a biblical man is
about.
Common Vision
The
vast majority of the Bible's vision for humanity applies to men and
women alike: both genders are adopted sons of God; both genders compose
the bride of Christ; both genders fulfill the Great Commission, receive
the Great Commandment, live in Word and sacrament and prayer and
community. These things are of supreme importance and will be the great
part of a Christian man's vision for himself.
But there are some
ways in which God has uniquely shaped men. Living into manhood—being
sanctified into the image of Christ as a man—differs in some ways from
the process of being sanctified into the image of Christ as a woman.
Looking to Scripture, we can see at least five specific roles the Bible
reserves for men. Not every man will fulfill every one of these roles in
his lifetime; but each role expresses a dimension of biblical manhood,
and our growth as men will move us toward potentially fulfilling each role.
Before I discuss
these roles in subsequent articles, we must consider three truths that
correct counterfeit notions of manhood. Beginning to learn these
correctives has given me a right perspective on the process of growing
in true masculinity.
1. God is the hero of my story, not me.
Men are drawn to
heroes. We love to see men face obstacles, confront enemies, or overcome
long odds. Watching heroes resonates with us, in part because we admire
them and in part because we like to imagine ourselves acting
heroically. We want to be heroes.
But God is the one
true hero of history, and he is the hero of my story too. In Revelation
5, John "weep[s] loudly" (5:4) because no one "in heaven or on earth or
under the earth" is able to open the scroll of God's purpose for
history. Only Jesus, the "Lion of the tribe of Judah" (5:5), has the
right to do so. And every creature in all creation worships him for it
(5:13). We are the "image and glory" (1 Cor 11:7) of God, designed to point to his greatness. True masculinity will direct others' attention to God.
This perspective gives us a new definition of heroism. We aren't heroes; but we act heroically
when we act in a way that typifies God to the world and points others
to his glory. The goal of my masculinity isn't to impress others but to
prompt them to see my good works and give glory to my Father in heaven.
2. The Holy Spirit grows me in masculinity, not me.
In Ephesians 2, Paul teaches, "In [Christ] you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit" (Eph. 2:22,
emphasis added). In 1 Corinthians Paul takes pains to show that God
alone causes growth in the field of his church (3:6, 9). God assigns us
gifts and tasks as part of the privilege of working with him, but, as
John Stott writes in Basic Christian Leadership, "in God's field . . . it is God's activity that really matters."
Because manhood is
part of our identity in Christ, this truth also applies to the process
of growing as a man. God grows us in true masculinity. There are no
self-made men of God; but we may repent of "what is dishonorable" (2 Tim. 2:20) and thus prepare the way for God to cultivate his image in us.
This is a call to
caution and to courage. Caution, because we don't want to take any part
of our sanctification into our own hands, and some of the "wisdom" on
manhood for Christians overemphasizes human effort. Manhood is not a
do-it-yourself endeavor; we are never "perfected by the flesh" (Gal. 3:3) in masculinity. But
we can take courage, because we're in capable hands. The power of
growing in manhood belongs to God alone, and he desires to make us "grow
up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ" (Eph. 4:15).
3. I have already received my manhood in Jesus Christ.
Masculinity is not a
badge we win at the end of a series of trials or a status I might one
day earn. My growth in manhood, in being the image and glory of God, was
earned by Jesus 2,000 years ago. He has begun the "good work" of
growing me in manhood, and he will bring it to completion. I don't have
to become a man; I am a man.
We will fall along
the way in the process of growing into manhood. We will see the ways God
is a perfect Father, a perfect Husband, and we'll know we can never
hope to meet his example. But our lives are hidden with Christ in God;
and when we fall short, we give thanks that God is merciful to love us,
weak men as we are.
I'm still learning
what it means to grow as a Christian man. I hope this series will
provide others with encouragement and guidance in their growth; I also
hope those who read these articles will converse with me, offering their
own wisdom on biblical masculinity. May we sharpen one another like
iron and learn to live into God's vision for us as men.
by Eric Metaxas
In the news recently, we
heard the tragic story of the Olympic athlete nicknamed “the Blade Runner.”
Oscar Pistorius, who raced on prosthetic legs, was charged with shooting his
girlfriend to death. If convicted, he faces life in prison.
And then of course there’s
Lance Armstrong, the cyclist who, after years of denials, finally admitted to
using illegal performance-enhancing drugs and was stripped of all seven of his
Tour de France medals.
A lot of people admire
athletes, but Pistorius and Armstrong are reminders that simply having athletic
prowess does not make men heroic. So what does make men great?
Like Jesus, I'm going to
answer that question with a story.
Many of you have probably
seen the film "Chariots of Fire," about the Scottish runner Eric Liddell,
and about how, in 1924, he surrendered an almost certain Olympic gold medal in
the 100 meters because the heats took place on a Sunday. And Eric Liddell would
not run on the Sabbath. He felt that that would not honor God. So instead, Eric
began training for the 400 meters. That was not something he was expected to
win a gold medal in. But to his country's delight, he did win the gold medal in
that event.
In my new book, Seven Men and the Secret of Their
Greatness, I write about seven men, among them Eric Liddell, who
was willing to make this incredible sacrifice. He gave up not only the greatest
prize in sports, but also the chance to bring honor to his beloved country —
not to mention fame, fortune, and glory to himself.
And then he gave up the glory
and wealth that goes with being an Olympic champion when he announced his
intention to serve God on the mission field in China.
Eric's heroism did not stop
after he won his gold medal. In the lead-up to World War II, Eric more than
once put his life in danger in an effort to bring supplies to the school where
he taught. On one of these journeys, he was attacked and robbed by armed thieves;
on another, he was shot at.
After the war started, Eric
was sent to a Japanese internment camp in China. There, he threw himself into
both work and volunteer activities, teaching in the camp school and organizing
softball, cricket, and tennis games for the children. Despite his growing
exhaustion, and missing his family terribly, he remained cheerful for the sake
of others. When he noticed that a teenager's shoes had worn out, Eric gave him
his extra pair — the very shoes he had worn in the Olympic Games.
In 1945, after years in the
camp, Eric began suffering terrible headaches. After he suffered a minor stoke,
camp doctors believed that he had a brain tumor. On February 18, Eric finished
writing one last letter to his wife and slipped into a coma. And he died that
evening at the age of 43.
When the news spread around
the world, not only Scotland mourned, but many other countries, as well. The
Glasgow Evening News summed up the feelings of the Scottish people regarding
the man who had put God before a gold medal and then spent the remainder of his
life serving others. Eric Liddell, the editors said, “did [Scotland] proud
every hour of his life.”
He did Scotland proud again
when, 63 years after his death, China revealed that Eric had been included in a
prisoner exchange. But rather than going free, he had given up his place to a
pregnant woman.
For the next six Mondays
leading up to Father's Day, BreakPoint will look at truly heroic men — the men
I write about in my new book, Seven
Men and the Secret of their Greatness. I hope you'll tune in. And I
hope you'll share these stories with young people who too often admire the
wrong people for the wrong reasons. They'll learn that greatness lies not in
stellar achievements, but in selfless sacrifice.
Eric Metaxas is a co-host of BreakPoint Radio and a
best-selling author whose biographies, children's books, and popular
apologetics have been translated into more than a dozen languages.
