Shepherds After God's Heart, Part 1

 

When a panel of church leaders was asked, "What do you think the greatest threat is to the church in our generation?," Paul Washer slowly grabbed the microphone. His answer would bring a laugh from the audience. Only he was not joking. "Its pastors" was his reply. Soon the room fell silent. "I am astounded at the lack of the fear of the Lord and the lack of biblical knowledge among those who would call themselves ministers of Christ." As the ministers of the church go, so goes the congregation. Indeed, shepherds, whether faithful or flawed, have a profound impact on a congregation. This responsibility is sobering for myself. James 3:1 comes quickly to mind: "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness."

Given the impact that church leaders have on the health of the congregation, there is a great need today, just as there was in the time of the Apostles and Prophets, for gifted, called, and qualified men to shepherd Christ's flock with tender care, feeding them with God's word, and guarding them from false teaching. Yet far too often, the pulpits of our day, as in days of old, are in desperate need of reform.

Some pastors view the ministry as a money-making scheme. The sheep are there to be fleeced. If these pastors can't separate the flock from their life-savings in order to buy jets for Jesus, they will sell them "holy" oil from Israel to charm their diseases away or a sermon series for six hundred dollars, a small price to pay to support the Lord's work.

Then there are the entertainers. This breed of court jester, sensing that the Bible is too serious for a Sunday morning and off-putting to searching souls, prepares humorous introductions to the Christian faith. The gospel is not attention grabbing enough to these class clowns of Christ, therefore, the gospel alone cannot be expected to be sufficiently attractive to the congregation. Consequently, these shepherds teach spiritual truths derived from Hollywood movies or other similar shenanigans designed to lure people in slowly and, at some point, finally unveil the thorny parts of the Bible (like Christ's death for our sins and resurrection from the dead). Sheep starve when fed gimmicks and games, and goats find better entertainment in the world.

Some sermons betray far too little Bible knowledge on the part of the minister. These pastors feel a special calling, not to study, but to communicate "vision" for the church. In their own minds, they are more apostle than pastor, a special breed with a special calling. Instead of studying for themselves, they download sermons from others. After all, time is short. Others consistently use Scripture, out of context, to launch into what they want to say, not in order to tell the congregation what God says. Sermons are sprinkled with Christian words but lack clarity and context; they lack power because the minister himself has not been gripped by the power of God in his word. He feeds his congregation other men's thoughts because he does not soak in the text himself. He has little time for the word, therefore the flock is fed anything else.

On the other hand, the pulpit can be a place of precise theology and laser beam points but all-too-abusive antics. The minister's life is a mess but his points are ironclad. Doctrine is a game; he jockeys for pride of place and consistently tells people about the books he's reading from the most schooled men of history. One wonders whether the Bible has been supplanted by those minds rather than supplemented by them. There is also a high degree of combativeness with every tribe of Christian other than his own. When faced with the inconsistencies between the pastor's message and his life (e.g. worldliness, drunkenness, family disintegration), the sheep look the other way because of the poignancy and power of his preaching. There's gravitas here. The pastor is free from so many cultural expectations—the traditions of men. He is a man that tells us how it is. This is authenticity. But this man leaves behind a trail of tears, gentle sheep battle-scarred, flickering wicks nearly snuffed out, souls confused at how so many things can be right and yet everything can be wrong.

Similarly, some pastors shepherd with an iron fist. Sermons are for confrontation. The preacher views the congregation as recalcitrant and bent on disobedience, therefore, every sermon is crafted to whip them into shape. The sheep are adversaries that must be broken before they can be healed. The love of God is not a sufficient motive to holiness. In fact, talking about the love of God is weakness, a hindrance that must be put aside if one desires to be undaunted in obedience. Women are often preached to as second class: the source of temptation and usurpers of power, therefore they especially must be led with a firm hand (aka abused). For these tough-talking macho-men, true grit has no place for a namby-pamby, squishy, soft-and-fuzzy religion. But Jesus said, "Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matt 11:29-30).

Other pulpits are set in beautiful cathedrals crafted of wood, stone, and stained glass, replete with the nostalgia of a long history of religious devotion. Yet many of these halls echo with sermons devoid of the gospel—a relic of history left to die in the church cemetery or collect dust in the crypts below the pews. In this way, the priests lead parishioners to metaphorically trample on Christ as they walk away from the faith of their fathers or hold to long-held heresies while embracing modern notions of a cross-less Christ, evolution, a mythological Adam, and fluidity of gender and marriage. The beautiful cathedral is a spiritual shell that no flying buttress can support. "How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has trampled underfoot the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace" (Heb 10:29)?

Then, there are the purveyors of politics dressing up their sermons in the garb of the kingdom of heaven. For these pastors, western civilization, democracy, and America in particular are given an overstated emphasis as part of God's plan and program to shape culture, advance the kingdom, or usher in the end times altogether. Jesus comes wrapped in an American flag (or its Christian-nationalism twin). Although much more could be said (and should), space does not permit at this time. But, suffice it to say, this group of preachers may be the most diverse of all,  making strange alliances along the way. Where else do you find the beard-oil Reformed militantly advocating for Christendom hand in hand with Bethel Redding or Calvary Chapel's Jack Hibbs? Someone in this camp is preaching to you; all the more as an election looms.

In one way or another, the message of Scripture is lost on each of these ministers in a sea of other agendas or left behind entirely for seemingly more fruitful tactics, like entertainment, politics, or grand visions to grow the church. Far more serious than the threats of Islamic jihad or transgender ideology is the threat of pastors using pulpits for anything other than the faithful exposition of God's word, the clear and consistent presentation of Christ himself in the gospel, and a lifestyle that matches the message with Christ-centered integrity.

Despite the proliferation of people speaking in Christ's name falsely, God is still raising up shepherds after his own heart (Jer 3:15): qualified and caring men who do yeoman's work laboring for the glory of Christ and the good of his people. And despite all of the ungodly voices, clothed in their Sunday best, I am confident that Christ "goes before [his sheep], and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice," the voice of the good shepherd who "lays down his life for the sheep," who said, "I know my own and my own know me" (John 10:4, 11, 14).

 

 Read Part 2 here.