Lately I've been thinking on a more visceral level than usual about preaching and Christian leadership. Today I feel compelled to share some of those reflections, particularly if you're thinking about entering vocational preaching ministry yourself.
The past few weeks I've been reminded--sometimes forcefully--how very, very heartbreaking Christian ministry can be. One day we rejoice that the Word has taken root in the soul of a new Christian, but before long we look on in horror as their faith withers in the sun and shallow ground. We feel the exhilaration of a new believer freed from sin, but soon the thornbushes of everyday life wrap them up. After a while, despite our best efforts to hold on, we don't see them anymore.
Yes, there certainly are stories of sustained triumph and growth in the church. But that doesn't make the crashes any less painful. The early church in Jerusalem sometimes grew by thousands of new believers a day, but I suspect the brethren took no delight in the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira.
Disciples fall away, and it hurts. When this kind of heartbreak sets in, it's tempting to choose a theological extreme to soothe our minds: ultra-Calvinism ("Well, it's God's perfect will that they be damned, after all"), or arch-Arminianism ("Hey dude, their choice"). But what if we refuse to read Scripture and our own experience through a ready-made theological lens? Where do we find encouragement at times like these?
The best answer I've found is to rejoice: to rejoice that God has allowed us the immense, undeserved honor of proclaiming the Good News of Christ Jesus; to rejoice that, whether anyone listens to us or not, we don't have to suffer the pain of
not proclaiming the gospel; to rejoice that, if we are faithful, our heartache is the heartache of Jesus.
Please don't think I'm writing this to try and make myself look good. Not at all. I sometimes think I keep preaching because, no matter how much it hurts, it's not nearly as bad as not preaching. And so I rejoice and thank God that I can.