“…see that you abound in this grace also” (2 Corinthians 8:7).
We just finished raising $10,000+ to enable a retiring missionary couple to purchase a good used car, and already some are accusing me of knowing how to raise money.
Oh my.
A young friend who will be moving his family to a distant city to begin a church has asked me to advise him on raising support.
Someone suggested I write a book on fund-raising.
I smile at the absurdity of that compliment.
Now, nothing which follows should be interpreted to encourage pastors to become bullies or know-it-alls. Scripture teaches servant-leadership, as exemplified by the Lord Jesus in John 13. However, our burden here is those pastors who are passive and hesitant to take a strong stand with their people, church leaders, and their staff.
“Shepherd the flock of God which is among you, serving as overseers, not by compulsion but willingly; not for dishonest gain but eagerly; not as being lords over those entrusted to you but being examples to the flock…” (I Peter 5:2-3)
You are responsible to the Lord for the flock, pastor. Numerous scriptures make that plain.
Some will not like that.
Some will accuse you of being heavy-handed.
Every pastor’s wife I know would like to say to the good and faithful deacons:
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for loving the Lord, for loving this church, and for loving your pastor and his family.”
“Thank you for praying for us, for being in your place of service on Sunday, and for taking care of the members during the week.”
“Thank you for your servant heart and for not seeing yourself as my husband’s boss, only as his support and helper.”
“We are richer and the work is better because you are faithful.”
Sadly, all spouses of pastors cannot say that. But they wish they could
When the wife of a pastor friend suggested an article on “What preachers’ wives would like to say to the deacons,” I said, “Write me what you would tell them,” and I’ll see what I can do.
Here it is–her list, completely untouched, just as it arrived a few minutes ago.
(The article starts off serious and goes downhill from there. Rather than a complete revamping it to make it one thing or the other, I decided to leave it the way it is. So, halfway through you’ll want to take out your sense of whimsy and make sure it’s in good working order.)
Don’t ever resign your church in a fit of passion. In a rush of anger.
Do that and you’ll inflict great harm on the church and ruin all the good will you have accumulated by years of faithful service.
That’s a huge no-no for preachers.
“Abide in Me and I in you” (John 15:4).
Resolve….resolution.
Revolve…revolution.
“I am the vine; you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; for without Me you can do nothing” (John 15:7).
A pastor I know asks the Lord for a one word theme for his church that year. One time it was “one,” referring to unity, and another year it was “missions.”
The word the Lord has given me for the year 2016 is “abide.” Or, to say it another way, I feel “called” to abide in Him this year as never before.
My threefold goal for this year can be stated: “I will abide in Christ; I will let His word abide in me; and I will abide in the moment.”
(I started this piece toward the end of October, in the 9th month of widowhood. And finished it today.)
My sister and several friends are saying I have to do something for Joe.
Like we’re talking about a third-person here.
I replied to one, “I’m not sure what that means. I do my job. I draw cartoons for editors, I work on my blog, I travel to cities where I preach the Gospel and sketch people, and then I come home. When I get home, I dump stuff in the washer, take things to the cleaners, buy groceries, deposit checks in the bank, and have the car washed. Then, a week or so later, I do it all over again. It’s my life.”
“That’s not in question.”
“That’s not the issue here.” This is not about deserving.
“You are unworthy and will always be unworthy.”
“Get past this.”
“It’s all about grace.”
“Now, get on with what you’re supposed to be doing.”
It was sometime in the early hours past midnight, and I was hoping to get back to sleep. Sometime in that vague area that blends wakefulness and sleep, the Lord and I were having this conversation about my burdens and His sufficiency. That’s when I pulled out the unworthy card and began playing it, as I am wont to do.
“Ah, Lord. I am so unworthy. I am not righteous enough. Not holy enough. Much too carnal. Weak beyond description. Flawed and marred and inept. I am unworthy.”
When He answered, I knew by long experience to get out of bed and write down what He said.
“Therefore, you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48).
The goal is perfection. Of course.
However, you will not attain it in this life.
That does not change the goal. It just means we keep trying, keep aiming high, and never stop getting up from our failures and trying again.
What we have here is a paradox: The goal is and always will be perfection, but we are not to be perfectionists.
We are sinners. Flawed humans of whom it is said, “There is none righteous, no not one.”
That’s the reality. We fall short.
The goal is heaven. But we are earthlings.
But we are going to heaven. We will see Him. We will be like Him. And we will finally be perfect.
That’s Scriptural. It’s the reality.
But in the meantime, we’re here.
Everyone has opinions about sermons. Those of us who deliver them are always looking for the most effective way to get one across. The great majority of people–those who have to listen to them!–have opinions also. Most say they want the conclusion as close to the introduction as possible, but I suspect that’s mostly a tease. Surely anyone who bothers to get dressed and drive to church and sit through a worship service wants the sermon to be worthwhile and to do its “perfect work.” So, we all have interests in this.
Most preachers spend far more time on the introduction than on the conclusion, and I think that’s a mistake.
Would a sales person spend all his time planning a pitch for the product without a thought as to getting the customer’s name on the dotted line? That signature is the whole point.
The response to the sermon is the point of the message.
Ronald Dunn, now in Heaven, was a prolific writer and speaker on prayer and the deeper life. He pastored in Texas and authored many books. What follows are stories taken from his book “Don’t Just Stand There, Pray Something: The Incredible Power of Intercessory Prayer.” Published in 1991 by Thomas Nelson.
First story. (I’ve heard this from numerous speakers, but it’s Ron’s story.)
I was speaking at a banquet for a church’s intercessory prayer ministry when (this mother of a teenager) shared a recent answer to prayer. A few days before, as she was getting a pie ready to put into the oven, the phone rang, It was the school nurse. Her son had come down with a high fever and would she come and take him home?
The mother calculated how long it would take to drive to school and back, and how long the pie should bake, and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie into the oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her son’s fever was worse and the nurse urged her to take him to the doctor.