Pure Church

I am a Calvinist. And I am a Pharisee. This shouldn't be the case, but it is. Admitting you have a problem is the first step in getting better.


Last time I tried to reflect on how a certain "bent" toward precision, accuracy, concern for detail seems to blend together with the rich exacting resources of Reformed theology and history to make Pharisees of those who lose sight of the object of our attention and affection: Jesus. If you care more about "getting it right" than you care about "getting close to Jesus," then you'll drift toward the Pharisees. You'll swallow a camel and strain a gnat.

But let me not project onto you the things that happen in my heart and head. I am bent toward all those things, and I lose sight of Jesus too often and for too long.

I'm a Pharisee. And I'm a Calvinist. And I'm told and believe those two things don't belong together. But why do they so often come together, like a dark prize hidden in the Cracker Jacks of the faith?

Here's the second reason I'm a Pharisee and Calvinist, or, another reason why those two things happen together far more often than they should. The Pharisee and the Calvinist are both suspicious.

Now I'm suspicious of a lot of things, but I'll just mention one. I'm suspicious of joy. Yep. Now, not my joy. That's another problem.

No. Like a good Pharisee, other people's joy makes me nervous. Not all people. Just those people who don't express their joy the precise way I think they should. You see, without the "appropriate bounds" their joy just may make them careless, lead them to error, hurt the church and cause of Christ. Their joy is combustible; it's dangerous. It's enthusiasm and flights of fancy that need to ballast of sobriety and sound theology.

You see, that bent toward intellectual and precise things, that concern to "get it right," sometimes leads us to suspect and question mirth, lightness, or merriment because those emotions appear too close to "trivial" for the Pharisee. If I'm serious about the truth, how can I be joyful?

I say to myself, perhaps you say to yourself, not out loud, of course: "All these happy people--happy about everything but the Truth, giving themselves to their happy little pursuits, singing loudly and clapping their hands, enthusiastic about everything--can't be trusted. They are to be suspected. They're to be watched carefully and 'taught'."

I know. I know. Teaching is good. Teaching is essential. Teaching guides the emotions. Teaching is commanded. Pharisee.

Didn't Jesus warn us of the Pharisee's teaching? For good reason. I wonder if for some of us "teaching" is simply another word for "behavioral modification," for "rehabilitation," for "re-education," for "concentration camp." People must be "taught"--by which we mean made to see everything just as I do. Pharisee.

I am a Calvinist, and I am a Pharisee. I've been "taught". Sometimes "taught" right out of joy.

Don't get me wrong. I know that joy may be expressed in all kinds of ways. I know the strong, silent type doesn't express his/her joy like the naturally outward and gregarious type. And I know that joy itself has many flavors--jubilant, quiet, solemn, tearful, and so on. But Pharisees like me only trust the quiet, solemn types. If joy gets too loud, it needs to be silenced. Pharisees like it quiet.

But then there is my good friend, C.J. Ah... there's "Reformed" spelled "p-a-r-t-y!" I love that brother! He dots all my "i's" and crosses all my "t's". So, his joy is okay. Cool, even. But he is an exception, of course, because I'm a Pharisee.

Also there is my good friend, Mark. If you think C.J. is the life of the party and Mark is a sour puss, you don't know Mark. About as silly, giddy, happy, optimistic, bright and joyful a man as you'll ever meet. Don't let the "SBC" or "Calvinist" labels fool you. Those labels are like the FBI warnings on your rented video or the "do not remove" tags on your mattress. Mark is a big... excuse me, slim ball of joyful energy. His love for the truth, like C.J., and Al and Lig' and Piper and R.C. and so many others, leads them to joy! Have you ever heard these men laugh? It's rowdy! They're serious men. And (I almost wrote "But"; you see the problem?) they're joyful men.




















But not me. Not the Pharisee.

When did I become suspicious of joy? I mean joy is what the angels announce for crying out loud! (Luke 2:10)

Some of my oldest friends, going back to high school and college, would describe me as "silly." I know. I know. What happened to that guy?

Well, he got saved and he started with joy; then he turned into a Pharisee.

Now, I've always been serious. Really. Always. Ask my mom. She still tells family and friends about how my friends used to come over to play, and rather than play with them, I'd connect the Atari (now that's ol' school) to the TV and then go into my room and read. From my early teens, I've been the family counselor. I'm an old soul, born with a veil over his face (little family superstition, there), and serious.

But I used to be fairly joyful, too. I think. Maybe. You see... I can't remember. Perhaps you're like me. It's been so long since you've had a sustained life of joy, you can't remember the last time you were joyful. As a disposition not an episode. Do you remember? Having a joyful disposition for a long time?

Maybe you're a Pharisee, or a Pharisee in the making. Stop before it goes too far. Get happy. Now don't get serious about joy. Just get joyful. Or else you'll be a Pharisee. Like me.

The Pharisee lacks joy because he lacks Jesus. I don't mean Pharisees like me aren't Christians. I am I trust. I mean "the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field" (Matt. 13:44). There's something implicit in this parable that if not made explicit leaves room for my inner Pharisee. What do you suppose the man did after he bought the field? The Pharisee doesn't go on to imagine the answer. The joyful do. In his joy the man sold all and purchase the field so that he might possess and enjoy the Treasure therein. We may lack Jesus by not enjoying Jesus, by not coming into His presence where there is fullness of joy and pleasure forevermore.

The Calvinist knows this. The Pharisee forgets this. Feed the Calvinist and strangle the Pharisee.

There once was a Calvinist (speaking anachronistically, of course), who was not himself a Pharisee but dealt with them a lot. He prayed for joy--my joy and yours. Here's how He prayed, "I am coming to you [the Father] now, but I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of my joy within them" (John 17:13). Let that sit with you. The Savior prayed for what the Calvinist Pharisee needs: the full measure of His joy.

Dear Sovereign Lord, the Joy of the world, let us know you, and thereby grant our heavy hearts liberating joy.

Thoughtful post/question from iMonk:

I believe in grace, but I wonder what what must happen in my life before I have the appetite for the goodness, sweetness and joy of the Gospel? I am not talking about the joy of straight theological lines or the manipulated joy of the big show at the local megachurch. I am talking about the joy of the Gospel that lives in the hearts of the poor, the dispossessed, the disowned and the disenfranchised of the world. What will move me away from all the misplaced happiness I pursue and toward a thirst for living water and the one who is the ever-ending fountain.

Seek the Lord and His strength;
Seek His presence continually.

Splendor and majesty are before Him;
Strength and joy are in His place.

1 Chronicles 16:11, 27

From the folks at DG and Josh Harris. Here.

Good stuff from JP:

But we are not without a Savior. Jesus Christ has come. And he is a great Savior. Every need we have, he supplies. And his death on the cross is the price that purchases every gift that leads to deep and lasting joy.

Is there wrath and curse hanging over us?

Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law be becoming a curse for us--for it is written, "Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree." (Gal. 3:13)

Is there condemnation against us in the courtroom of heaven?

Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died. (Rom. 8:33-34)

Are there innumerable trespasses mounting up against us?

In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace. (Eph. 1:7)

Is righteousness required that we cannot produce?

For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). By the one man's obedience the many will be made righteous. (Rom. 5:19)

Are we cut off from eternal life?

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

Are we trapped in the dominion of sin that ruins our lives?

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness (1 Peter 2:24). He died for all, that those live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. (2 Cor. 5:15)

Will all the follies and failures of our past drag us down with irrevocable, destructive consequences?

We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Rom. 8:28)

Have we lost all the good things God planned for his children?

He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? (Rom. 8:32)

Is there any hope that sinners like us could spend an all-satisfying eternity with God? Can I ever come home to God?

Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God. (1 Peter 3:18)

Oh, what a great salvation Jesus Christ accomplished when he died and rose again! All that, and more, Christ purchased by his death. Therefore, Christ crucified is the foundation of all honest and everlasting joy. No self-deception is necessary to enjoy it. Indeed all deception must cease in order to enjoy it to the full.

From John Piper, When I Don't Desire God: How to Fight for Joy (Crossway, 2004), pp. 73-73.

For the past couple of days, I've been working on a pastoral situation where it seems nothing has gone right. I've been heavy in spirit--discouraged really.

Then last night in Bible study, two members of the church approached me separately with small gifts. Both thanked me for what they see as faithful shepherding in their lives.

I can't count the number of times I've been downcast in soul and God kindly sent someone to me to point out evidence of His gracious work in and/or around me. When my soul falls He is ever there to pick it up. I'm thankful for the Body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:26).

I'm also thankful for the trials that push me out of myself, depletes my self-dependence, and makes me cry to the Lord. "It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn Your decrees" (Ps. 119:71).

All of the world seems aimed at the pursuit of possession. When we're children we want toys. When we're teenagers we want the coolest clothes and a car. Soon we're off to college, hopefully one of the "better" institutions for our selected major. Not long after college we want the dream job and, of course, a better car to suit our "status." Then we purchase our first home. That "starter" home gives way to the "upgrade" or the "dream home." We fill that box with all kinds of furnishings and things to make it suit our tastes. Sea-Doos, boats, plasma TVs and the like become the grown-up version of the toys we played with as kids. A "mid-life crisis" may change everything. Time for the sportier car, the trendier clothes, and sometimes a new "trophy" spouse.

Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed--not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence--continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose. Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life--in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

First, they are to work out their salvation with fear and trembling. They are to continue on in obedience, as they started in Paul's presence and now in his absence. The basis for continuing in obedience to Christ is the realization that it is actually God working on their wills and their actions in accord with His good pleasure (2:13; see Carson, Basics for Believers, 62-63). The option of resting on their laurels is removed; their wills and actions must be exercised. But also removed is the notion that it all depends on them, on their heroic effort and energy. For it is God working on their wills and actions. Human responsibility and divine sovereignty meet in the outworking of their redemption. Christian growth is not by osmosis but by work--God's and ours.

If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose (Phil. 2:1-2).

Theology is tremendously practical. Never let anyone drive a wedge between good theology and "practical" information. The Apostle Paul (one of the writers of Scripture) never falls into that trap. He never writes as though some lofty statement about God is really merely a frill, a lace doily on an otherwise useless idea. He writes in such a way as to maintain profound and necessary connections between theology and practice. And sometimes surprising things emerge.


For example, in Phil. 2:1-2, the Apostle begins as he often does with good theology... reminders really of astounding truths:


1. Christians are united with Christ; our lives are joined with His through faith. We are accepted in Him; He is our Head and we His body. We are one new man in Christ.

2. Christians draw comfort from Christ's love. And who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Can anything in this life or the next, in this world or the one to come? What comfort is offered by the knowledge of God's unchanging, unshakeable love in Christ!

3. Christians "fellowship with the Spirit." We commune together with the Third Person of the Godhead, the Spirit through whom the love of God is poured into our hearts, by Whom the Father and the Son come to us and take up residence, and by Whom we cry out, "Abba, Father!"

4. Christians have new hearts. Where a stone once filled the cavity of our souls, now there beats a heart of flesh, a heart of Christlike compassion and tenderness. Christians are now free and empowered to love like God loves as the new heart of the new covenant throbs in our breasts.

That's all theology. And then the Apostle shows the practical implications of that theology. Christians, then:

1. Should be like-minded. With Christ as head, with the same mind or attitude of Christ (v. 5), Christians can and should experience a great deal of unity of thought and sentiment.

2. Have the same love. No longer are there variations in our love according to natural affiliations (ethnicity, class, etc), but now Christians love their brethren as Christ has loved them, not regarding one another according to the flesh but according to the shared life and love of Christ in us all.

3. Should be one in spirit and purpose. Where does unity in the church come from? It springs, it seems, from the application of good theology. Right thoughts about God lead to right living. Properly understanding our fellowship with the Spirit of God leads to oneness in spirit and purpose with His people.

Paul beseeches the Christians to remember the truth about God they've been taught and then to live that truth out in their relationship with one another.

And this, he tells us, will "make [his] joy complete." Whatever is lacking in the Apostle's joy is supplied by the Philippian Christians walking in the knowledge of God. The Apostle John says the same thing: "It gave me great joy to have some brothers come and tell about your faithfulness to the truth and how you continue to walk in the truth. I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth" (3 John 3-4).

Seeing his people walk in the truth was for Paul a complete joy, and for John the greatest joy. And so it is with the pastor and his people. Perhaps there is no sweeter joy than to see your people lay hold to the truth, imbibe it, make it apart of themselves, and walk it out.

I don't know that I've been more encouraged than when I've seen Christians take some teaching of God's word and really accept it as truth (which is in itself a declaration that truth exists and matters), walk in it, and rejoice in it. A pastor may rightfully be surprised by the joy he finds in ministry when amidst difficult situations (the loss of loved ones, persecution, the threat of divorce, debilitating disease, and so on) his people stand and walk in the truth.

And if a pastor frequently and consistently comes close to the sheep, he may not only smell the sheepiness of sheep but also rejoice that they hear the Shepherd's voice and follow Him. And what undershepherd is not pleased that the flock follow the Chief Shepherd? Unique among the joys of ministry is to see the truth of God seep into the hearts of His people and overflow in like-mindedness, mutual love, common cause, humility and service.

This joy, when it's observed, surpasses even the joy the preacher-pastor receives as he studies and prepares to teach. What sweet fellowship with the Spirit and Christ study and preparation is. And how much sweeter to see the fruit of that study in the lives of your people, to see the Spirit at work in the word and the walk. Pastors have no greater joy, no more complete joy, than to see their people walk in the truth.

To experience this joy more fully, we have only to do two things:
1. Keep teaching the truth with patience, clarity, gentleness and joy; and
2. Develop skill at looking for evidence of the truth working itself out in our people, to see them walking in it.

Therein is complete joy in pastoral ministry.

When is penultimate pleasure a better choice than ultimate pleasure? If given the choice between something far superior and a relatively inferior alternative, when is it good to choose the inferior?

Not many things come to mind for me. It seems we’re wired to always choose the superior thing. After all, it’s “superior.”
The Apostle Paul faced a choice of this nature, a choice between something “better by far” and what might be called an inferior but good alternative. He writes in Philippians 2:18:26—

Yes, and I will continue to rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help given by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, what has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your joy in Christ Jesus will overflow on account of me.

After telling his readers that he rejoiced whether Christ was preached out of false motives or true as long as Christ was preached, the Apostle then writes that he will continue to rejoice because of the deliverance he expects. Shackled and imprisoned, the Apostle faces the future with confidence that Christ will be exalted whether he lives or dies and that he will not be ashamed. “For to live is Christ and to die is gain.”

And there is the dilemma. Here is where the Apostle is torn and pulled between two poles, one superior and the other a good inferior. Departing to be with Christ “is better by far.”

I wonder how often we meditate on that truth. How often do we consider the “better by far” wonder of being with Christ? Is that Day consistently before us? Is that expectation strong and compelling, or is it stacked in a corner with other Christmas goodies we played with for a day only to abandon and forget when the next toy was unwrapped?

The Apostle finds Christ far better than anything on this earth. And so should we. And yet, he goes on to write that it was necessary for others that he should remain for their “progress and joy in the faith.” Paul expected that his being with the Philippians again would lead to their overflowing joy in Christ Jesus.

Here, then, might be the only time where a good inferior alternative may be desired over the far better, superior choice—when others also will enter into the far better life with Christ.

It’s quite likely that the Apostle found great happiness in seeing the Philippians’ progress and joy in Christ. This is one of the surprising sources of joy in the pastoral ministry—recognizing that the hardships, if we don’t faint, lead to the blessing of God’s people. By God’s grace, we may live through tumultuous and difficult times to see the glorious goodness of it all worked by the hand of God. We have the privilege of working for our people’s joy and growth in Christ, an overflowing joy “on account of” the pastor. That God is pleased to use vessels of dust to work such treasure is a great privilege. And though it would be far better to be with Christ, how tremendous a reunion will it be when we all get to heaven and the pastor and his people acknowledge before Christ that the pastor was used to fit them for that Day.

Are we facing hardships? Imprisonment? Opposition from within and without?

Are we tempted to think it would be better by far if we were to lay down this earthly tabernacle and be clothed with the heavenly one? Without doubt we are correct to think that the heavenly dress is better than the earthly.

And yet, in God’s kindness to his ministers, the good inferior choice of laboring for the joy and progress of His people is rewarded with joy in this life as we see Christian maturity unfold and rewarded eternally when stand with our people before our King and really rejoice!

Okay, I'm busted. Not only am I busted, but I'm genuinely challenged by the Apostle Paul's joy in this statement:

That important thing is taht in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice. (Phil. 1:14)

Does my suffering produce joy? Or, am I prepared to endure suffering with joy? Can I send the end of my suffering and joyfully recognize the glory of God in, through, and by it?


I'm not sure how to put these questions... but I'm trying to recognize something that Paul recognized about suffering and joy. It's in many places in his letters, but this morning I'm considering Philippians 1:12-14:

Now I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.

Few will deny that gospel ministry has its perils. Its taxing even on the stoutest of men. Broad shoulders is not guarantee of effortless lifting. If you carry a gospel burden for souls, you will face not only the weight of the load but the obstacles of spiritual and earthly opposition. This life is no crystal stair (to borrow from one poet).

And yet, Paul, in chains, celebrates the gospel advancing result of his imprisonment and persecution. It's a surprising source of joy in the ministry for him.

The blows of God are efficient. They're not wasted on the superficial effect of widespread carnage and damage as in some "action movie." But see how His blows work wondrous kingdom results. One man's imprisonment: (a) advances the gospel, (b) makes it clear to those who imprison him and everyone else that Christ is worth being chained for, (c) leads to courage in others, and (d) produces more preaching with Spirit-filled boldness. God's economy takes one man's chains and leads to all of this.

The questions for me and perhaps other pastors are:
1. Have I recognized the efficiency of God in my persecution, suffering, and hardship?

2. Can I trace the workings of God from my situation to evidence of grace in others to gospel joy over the work of God in my hardship?

3. Have I grown near-sighted, seeing only the hardship, the "chains"?

4. Have I considered the fruit in others a basis for joy in ministry?

5. How would I need to change my focus in order to bring these things into view?

6. Am I denying some real hardship in favor of fantasy gains, instead of accurately assessing real challenges in favor of real spiritual fruit the Lord is producing?

We are to endure hardship like a good soldier. But we are also to "count it all joy" when various trials come our way. Paul's rejoicing helps us to see why we should have this perspective.

Too often I err on the side of be a good soldier. "Buck up little soldier. Chin up. Shoulders back. Stand up straight. Keep marching. Big boys don't cry." Not surprisingly, I grow wearier in the labor. And not surprisingly, some men grow weary of the labor... joyless and resigned.

But we may find that it's precisely in the trials of ministry that a surprising source of joy awaits... if we can see things from the divine perspective that Paul models for us. Philippians makes it clear that the Sovereign Lord is up to far more in my suffering than I am accustomed to seeing or acknowledging. And for that, I can rejoice even in the difficulty. For first comes suffering, then comes glory.

It is right for me to feel this way about all of you, since I have you in my heart; for whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God's grace with me. God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus (Phil. 1:7-8).

The Apostle Paul penned these words just after telling the Philippians that he prayed with joy because of their partnership with him in the gospel, and that he expected God to complete the work He had begun in them. The thought of their partnership inspired joy in the apostle. And now he insists that feeling joyous was "right".

Should a pastor feel and know joy concerning the people placed in his charge? According to the apostle, of course! And why?

Well, it's because the Philippians were "in [Paul's] heart". And so should our people be in our hearts. It's a striking phrase really. We tend to hear the word "heart" with a kind of sentimentality that the biblical writers didn't intend. They were not merely in his head or on his mind. They were not merely the objects of syrupy affection. They were in his bosom, in his breast, the seat of his soul, lodged in the center of who he was. As Carson put it, his "whole life and thought are bound up with [the Philippians]" (D.A. Carson, Basics for Believers: An Exposition of Philippians, p. 18). So dear to him were the Philippian Christians that he could speak of them as part of him. And are not the pastor and his people to be similarly joined in one body?

Notice that his assessment wasn't fair-weather, like some vane spinning in the wind. "Whether I am in chains or defending and confirming the gospel, all of you share in God's grace with me." Imprisonment didn't confine his love for the church. Neither did apologetic and preaching freedom distract his affections. Hardship didn't quench the concern for them. And prosperity didn't turn his heart.

So strong was his love for the Philippians that he could take an oath before God: "God can testify how I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus." How would God testify of my love for the church?

Paul is no hireling, and his love for the people is not prompted or limited by convenience.

Here, then, is a surprising source of joy in pastoral ministry: love for God's people has a way of becoming very much a part of you, working its way into the soul and stubbornly resisting dilution and distraction.

Pastoral ministry is filled with the surprising joy of love. We look out on God's people, those who "share in God's grace with us," and we can sometimes be positively startled at the intensity of affection and care.

I remember the first time my oldest daughter was hurt in my presence. She was a toddler. And as is the case with toddlers, she "toddled" and bumped her mouth against a cart. She let out this piercing shriek. It was all very minor, but I felt things I'd never felt before with an intensity that scared me. We were in Best Buy at the time. I had to leave her with her mother and walk to the opposite corner of the store with the big screens and A/V equipment to get myself together.

Sometimes, a pastor's love for his people, like Paul's, is as strong as a parent's love for their children. Perhaps that should be all the time. But we're fallen men with imperfect affections and vulnerabilities. But when it is like that, there is unquestionably a great joy that wells up in the heart.

And what joy it is to discover longing for the people of God "with the affection of Christ Jesus" in our hearts. What an assurance of God's grace and work in our lives. In a peculiar sort of way, pastoral ministry affords a man an opportunity to love in a way and scale otherwise unavailable to him. I don't mean that all Christians shouldn't love this way. I'm only suggesting that one surprising source of joy for the pastor is this opportunity to love "with the affection of Christ Jesus" that comes with shepherding responsibility.

There are the older members who become parents and grandparents to you. The pastor's care for them can sometimes become akin to a son's care for his aging parents. There is the love that develops for the children of the congregation as you watch them grow and play some part with their parents in shaping them. There are the teenagers who need another loving mentor, and the young adults transitioning through career, marriage, and first children. There are the bruised and hurting sheep struggling with weakness or wickedness and needing care. The pastoral privilege of "being there" as providence unfolds plants the congregation in a man's heart. At various times and in various ways we have the privilege of sharing the affection of Christ Jesus.

Surely that's a costly love, for Christ in His love poured out His blood. But it was also for the joy set before Him that He endured the agony of the cross. In a similar way, it's for the joy set before the pastor that he endures in loving his people in chains or in proclaiming the gospel.

Joylessness in pastoral ministry is not by God's design.

As of this past Tuesday, I have a new favorite passage from Paul's letters re: the pastor's heart. I had the privilege of hearing John Piper deliver a chapel address at Southern Seminary called "We Work with You for Your Joy" (2 Corinthians 1:24-2:4). Powerful. Fresh wine. Challenging.

Piper encouraged the seminarians and prospective pastors to tell the search committees and prospective congregations "I have a dangerous message for you: I'm here to work for your joy." Why would that be dangerous? Listen to the address.

He also spoke today, but I've not heard it yet. Go here to listen to the addresses (you'll need to scroll down a little).