When God is your partner in ministry…

Working together with him, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. (2 Corinthians 6:1)

For we are God’s fellow workers. You are God’s field, God’s building. (1 Corinthians 3:9)

And they went out and preached everywhere, while the Lord worked with them (Mark 16:20)

So if there is any encouragement in Christ…any participation in the Spirit…complete my joy. (Philippians 2:1-2)

And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)

If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. (John 12:26)

And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “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

For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me. (Col. 1:29)

What an encouragement to remember. God works with us as we work for him. This reminds of William Carey’s memorable saying: “Expect great things from God; attempt great things for God.”

If God be for us, who can be against us?


3 reasons why pastors should read church history

I just finished Pillars of Grace by Dr. Steven Lawson, a book of biographical sketches of great churchmen throughout history who upheld the doctrines of grace. I did a premature review here, which doesn’t need to be revised having finished the book. But I’d like to write here about church history more generally, and why I think pastors should read it.

1. It helps you see the gospel is not new.

In the buzz of all the “gospel-centered” movement, it’s easy to think that this is some sort of new discovery– that finally, after 2,000 years of church history, we’ve finally got it right. Of course, that is naivete at its finest. The gospel is not new, and neither is gospel centrality.

Church history helps us see that this message that we fight for is not new. If it was, it wouldn’t be worth fighting for. The fact the gospel is rooted in antiquity, has been heralded faithfully throughout the ages by a preserved remnant, and is currently in our hands makes us aware of the great responsibility we bear. This is not our gospel. It is God’s– delivered through Jesus Christ, given to the apostles, passed down to the church. It has fallen in our lap for this hour. We must be sure that it gets passed on.

2. It gives a fleshed-out picture of God’s providence

Much of the Bible is written as history. If we have a strong doctrine of providence, then we must believe that history, in a sense, reveals the character of God. Since we believe that God ordains all history, and that every event and circumstance is the result of God’s providence, and that every occurrence, in a real sense, is something God does, then we can observe history with the understanding that it shows forth the person of God.

I don’t think this in any way usurps the uniqueness of the Bible. History is doing the same thing the heavens are doing: “declaring the glory of God” (Ps. 19:1). While it is possible to learn about God from creation, it’s never enough to grant the spiritual insight necessary for a relationship with God. I think the same is true of history. Every history book, secular or spiritual, as far as it is accurate, reveals the glory of God. Why? Because it’s the story of God’s work in the human realm.

Men cannot perfectly interpret events in history, which is why it could never be as authoritative as Scripture. We can’t perfectly interpret history because of sin, a limited perspective, and a host of other reasons. Instead Scripture interprets history for us. And when we look through the hallway of history through the Scriptural lens, we see a brilliant picture of providence alive.

Just when all hope is lost, we see God raise up a man to carry the gospel mantle. The Red Sea of opposition gets parted in the eleventh hour. We see doors shut for a thousand years opened by the hand of God. After reading the story of providence, the warm confidence of God’s sovereignty assures you of the victory of God. You are small, God feels big, and it feels good.

3. You see the inevitability of leaving a legacy.

This is an important one that, I’m afraid, doesn’t get too much thought. The way pastors build their churches begins momentum in a certain direction. Pastors need to sit down and ask themselves, what will make the church successful? Answer anything other than the faithful shepherding of the flock by the continual preaching and teaching of the Word of God and you’re headed in a bad direction.

The short-sightedness of our society forbids us to think deeply about the next generation. Most churches don’t consider how their practices will affect the church in a hundred years, but they should. History reminds us that we all stand in line— receiving what has been handed to us and passing it on to the next person in the queue. How well we pass it on will determine how valuable our legacy is.

History is like big, slow moving river. When you’re in it, it’s hard to tell if its moving anywhere. But when you view it from the sky, you see how it meanders through the terrain toward the sea. When we die, another generation will take up the work we’ve been doing, and the river will continue on. And the things we’ve done wrong will, most likely, be perpetuated.

Though there are a few talking about it, a wish more pastors would consider the long-term effects certain hot issues. Multi-site, church growth pragmatism, and other innovative fads and trends may have underlying assumptions that can undermine the gospel, and myriads are jumping on the bandwagon without giving much thought to the fact that though it might look successful for the next five years, the legacy they’re leaving for the next generation is destructive.

When you read history you realize that churches leave legacies, and if there’s one obvious lesson from two thousand years of church history it’s this: bad ideas have bad, bad consequences. If we care about human souls we should care about them in our generation and the generations to come. Thus, we should seek to be simple and faithful to the Word of God, and not be afraid to think deeply about how what we’re doing might undermine or obscure the gospel for future generations.

Every pastor needs to consider the fact that in due time, his task will be over. In the great scheme, a pastor’s tenure isn’t very long. But what outlasts every pastor is what they’ve taught and who they’ve taught. What has the pastor valued? What did he hope and trust in? What has he given to the next generation? Let’s hope it’s not fleeting innovations, fads, and trends.

Our job is not to innovate, renovate, or obfuscate, but to simply and faithfully protect and pass on the sound words we’ve been taught. Church history reminds us that innovation isn’t all the that the world has hyped it up to be. To be a faithful preacher you must be content to say that which has been said a thousand times before.







Get on your face, pastor

I constantly have to be reminded the Spirit’s role in salvation and sanctification. If there is no Holy Spirit; if there is no divine intervention, my ministry is doomed. I have nothing apart from him. Jesus said, “Apart from me you can do nothing.” Nothing. Zero. Zilch. He must save. He must awaken. He must do it.

How difficult it is to rest in these truths! My mind races for new ideas; my heart accuses me in a multitude of ways, as if it were my job to illuminate; the devil lies about God’s sufficiency to do the work– the gaze of my mind is shifted from the thing of God to the things of man, as if the burden of eternal souls was on my back.

A few weeks ago I stood in front of a group of students and shared the gospel of Jesus Christ. In one of those rare teaching moments, when you are fully conscious of reality of what’s happening, I urged the students: “Be born again!”

How absurd.

It’s like going to the cemetery and commanding its residents to live. It’s like demanding a deaf person to listen to you. Like pleading with a blind man to “watch.”

Speak life into existence? Me? More likely I could assemble a universe with my bare hands. It’s beyond me. It’s absurd. Talk about mission impossible.

Why do I do this?

Why do I speak the words of God with the hope that it will make dead people live? It makes about as much sense as pleading with a stone to grow legs and walk.

Luke 18:27 is why:

“What is impossible with man is possible with God.”

That verse is a goldmine. That is ministry fuel. That is what I run on. Who is sufficient for these things? God. He is; I’m not. Sometimes we focus in so much on the second part that we forget about the first part– with man it is impossible. Salvation, sanctification, and any kind of real ministry is impossible with man. Man’s innovation is nothing. Man’s technique is nothing. Man’s skill and talent is nothing. Nothing that originates in me is anything. Let that sink in. Where is the power? Where does it come from? Who weilds it? Who dispenses it at his own good pleasure?


Get on your face, pastor, you are attempting the impossible.