Twenty-five Years in the Pulpit

On the first Lord’s Day in April 1999, three days after my 20th birthday, I entered the pulpit of the Elliottsville Church of Christ as the full-time minister. I have been employed in full-time, vocational, local church, preaching ministry for every minute of the twenty-five years since. Technically, I was already in full-time local church ministry for several months prior while serving as an intern at the 77th Street congregation in Birmingham. But that Sunday morning, April 4th, I became a preaching and teaching minister, and that vocation has largely defined and shaped my life ever since.

I was asked to preach my first sermon in 1994 at the age of 15. The local church our family attended wanted to encourage and develop young men who might have gifts for ministry. I was supposed to prepare a twenty minute talk, another teenager would do the same, and we would split the sermon time on a Sunday evening. But when the time arrived, my friend chickened out. So I preached my sermon on The Historical Evidence for the Existence of Christ. The congregation loved it, but that’s probably because the lesson was only twenty minutes, and church let out early.

That first lesson led to more invitations, to preach at a new congregation nearby, and again in our own church, and then more frequently at a country church my dad was serving as a bi-vocational minister. When our family moved back to Alabama, I did pulpit supply in Anniston and then in many congregations in and around Birmingham. By the time I was 18, I was preaching frequently, sometimes as many as two or three Sundays a month. I covered for preachers who were out of town. Sometimes I was called to preach for someone who got sick, including one Sunday morning when a preacher’s wife called and asked if I could come.

When I was 18 years old, a congregation where I had preached several times and that was without a minister asked if I would become theirs. I thought, prayed, wept, and declined. I am very thankful I did. I am sure it was a sincere offer, but I did not need to be a minister at 18 years old (or 20), but I began to sense providence pressing me towards something I was not ready to agree to.

I wanted to preach in my early to mid-teens, but I had outgrown that desire when the time finally arrived. I did not lose my love for Christ, Scripture, or for sharing the gospel (insofar as I understood it), but by the time I was 15 or 16, I knew a lot of preachers, and I knew that I did not want to be like most of them. I wanted to serve Christ, but I did not want to be a typical Church of Christ minister. My professional interests lay elsewhere, and I believed I could best serve the church as a faithful member who was able to teach and preach while making a living in another way. Not long after deciding not to accept that first call, the elders at 77th Street began talking to me about becoming a full-time intern. They believed I had gifts for preaching, and they wanted to see me test and develop those gifts while I was still young, unattached, and not too committed to anything else yet. I demurred, resisted, and delayed. At one point, I thought they had given up, but in the Fall of 1998, I finally relented. I agreed to try. I’ll never forget Richard Buchanan standing in front of the entire church announcing my new position and charging me in the words of 2 Timothy 4. It was the most sobering charge I ever received, before or since.

I was already dating Kirstie, and when I decided to propose in February of the next year, I knew I could not support a wife on what little I was being paid. I had a job offer in Atlanta doing work I had done before and enjoyed. But when a friend learned that I might quit preaching, he got word to the folks at Elliottsville who had heard me preach before. I had filled in for them while they were conducting a search for a new minister, but I do not think they would have considered me unless someone else had suggested it to them. (The same friend was instrumental in my second call as well, something he may now regret but for which I will always be grateful.)

Elliottsville asked me to candidate, and after meeting with the men of the congregation, they offered me the job. I had a lot to think about. This was not my plan. I was headed down a different road. I would work for a while in order to get married and then keep pursuing my dream. But I felt no peace about it. When I was 15 years old an older sister in Christ cornered me after a service and strongly warned me, “God won’t be pleased if you don’t preach!” How she knew that when I wasn’t even old enough for a driver’s license, I have no idea. I am sure she was not a prophetess. But I had heard many similar comments from men and women for the five years since, and the pull was strong, even if I did not want it. I did not understand then the doctrine of an internal call to ministry. I thought it was simply my choice, but if I did not want to give my life to preaching, why was I feeling inexorably pulled to do so?

I will never forget meeting my Dad at the Burger King near his office to drink coffee and talk about the decision I had to make. I knew he wanted me to preach. He had made that clear for many years. He knew I did not want to. It was one of the few things we had ever argued about, but we had argued about it, many times, even to the point of tears. “I will do this,” I told him, “but I refuse to ever think of this as a career. I want to serve Christ and help the church, but I am only doing this for a while. Afterwards, I will get back to what I originally planned.” I still believe the first part, wholeheartedly. I do not think of ministry as my career. It is a calling, a mission, a life of service mandated by a higher authority. But if that older sister in Christ was not a prophet, it seems quite clear that I am not one either.

My entire adult life has revolved around the Lord’s Day and the Scriptures. Every week since I was 20 years old, I have spent most of my waking hours preparing sermons and Bible class material, visiting saints in their homes and hospitals, sharing the gospel, leading Bible studies, counseling broken and disobedient people, and praying for God’s blessing on it all. If I had joined the Army instead of entering the ministry, I would be able to retire by now with a pension. I do not plan to ever retire from preaching. If the Lord wills, I plan not to. Maybe someday I will write the great American novel and become financially independent of the local church, or there may be a rich uncle (who has not written me off for becoming Reformed) who will remember me in his will. I suppose most ministers dream of never having to take another dime for preaching the gospel, even if their compensation is appropriate and biblical, but I know that however I keep food in the pantry and lights on in the house, my vocation will remain the same. It took about twelve years of full-time preaching for me to finally understand and accept the fact that God made me a preacher. I tried to quit, many times, during those first twelve years, and I am sure some people wish I had succeeded. But I did not choose to become a preacher, at least, I did not make that choice independently. The Lord chose this vocation for me, and whether that ministry lasts twenty-five more minutes or twenty-five more years, he will be the One who decides when it is finished. Soli Deo Gloria. –JME

Feeding the Sheep

One of the greatest challenges in weekly preaching is remembering that you must meet your audience where they are and help them in their daily walk with Christ. The typical Reformed pastor spends a lot of time with books, reading old volumes of theology and sermons written by men who have been dead for many years, sometimes centuries. He may also spend time online or actively corresponding with other men about current theological controversies and the latest issue which has been designated the true test of orthodoxy. But when it comes time to write his weekly sermon(s), if he is a good pastor, he must remember that he was sent by Christ to shepherd a particular flock of sheep. He is not pastoring an audience on YouTube. He is not enlightening the broader presbytery by the brilliance of his exposition or saving his denomination by the power of his elocution. He is a shepherd sent to lead, feed, water, and protect particular sheep, and most of those sheep have very different priorities than their theologically attuned pastor.

Reformed churches are, rightly, critical of evangelicalish churches where the sermon is always something like Seven Ways to Have a Better Marriage or What Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour Can Teach Us About Loving Jesus. Such preaching neither edifies saints nor points the unbeliever to Jesus Christ. But Reformed churches can easily make an equal, if seemingly opposite, error by concentrating on theological minutiae or the kinds of issues that, while important, do not truly serve the needs of the sheep struggling to follow Christ in the world today. This is how we get multi-year sermon series on “the error of the Federal Vision” or multiple lessons on “the implications of the 16th century Council of Trent for assessing the Church in Rome.” Some Reformed churches are so intent on preaching justification, and so averse to anything that seems like moralizing, that they cannot bring themselves to preach the third use of the Law. I have visited churches where the preaching was solid and Christ-centered and utterly devoid of any practical application.

There is a balance. The sheep need to be warned of errors and taught how to think biblically and christianly. The saints may not always recognize why a certain issue is important or how a particular topic may be valuable to them. Faithful preaching involves laying one brick at a time, week by week, year after year, hoping and praying that the Lord will use it to build his Temple and that it will not look like the tower in a game of Jenga on round twelve.

Biblical preaching is practical, and practical preaching in Christ’s churches should always be first and foremost biblical. That is why the Reformed churches’ commitment to systematic exposition of Bible books, as a general model, is so helpful and markedly superior to the preaching in many other traditions. If the pastor is faithfully preaching his way through Bible books, the Holy Spirit will get the nutrients to the sheep that they need, whether the pastor realizes what they are or not.

Good preaching is not just teaching what to do this week or how to think about a single issue. It is forming us in the likeness of Christ. It is a means of grace used by the Spirit to chip away the remaining sinfulness and carve us more and more in the form of Jesus. It is training discernment, teaching us not only how to view one thing but learning how to look at everything through the lens of creation and covenant, Scripture and the life of our Savior, cross and future crown. Faithful preaching is an exercise in forming the christian mind, bit by bit, step by step, from the youngest child in the congregation to the oldest saint waiting on the doorstep of eternity to see Christ for the first time. --JME

Finishing John's Gospel

 Final Thoughts as I Finish Preaching Through the Gospel According to John

I considered reviewing the major themes of John’s Gospel in this last sermon on the book, but decided against it. Instead I want to reflect briefly on this series which began on January 17, 2016. This is the 153rd sermon I have written in that series (though it will only be the 151st sermon posted on Sermon Audio from it--I’m not sure which ones are missing). This series began to be preached at Reformation Bible Church, one month after we began meeting at East Valley High School where we would continue to assemble for another 13 months. Reformation Bible Church became Reformation Orthodox Presbyterian Church in October of 2016. Some of you have been here for the entire series, but there are many new faces that have come since it began and a few that began the study with us but now are gone. Others came and went somewhere in between.

I preached on the Book of Romans from February 2014 until September 2015, and the church changed a lot during that series too. That series began at what was then called Community Christian Church; by the end of Romans we were Reformation Bible Church and well on our way to becoming fully, confessionally Reformed. Before I finished chapter 3 a mass exodus had begun, eventually including nearly all of the elders who originally brought me to Arizona. One of them infamously announced, “I know I am a sinner, but I don’t like being reminded of it every Sunday!” Indeed. Those first three chapters of Romans are quite uncomfortable if you would rather not be reminded you are a sinner.

When I began preaching through Romans, I was a credo-baptist. By the time we finished the book I had baptized young children and an infant in four different households, including my own. If I had known in chapter 1 what I learned by the time we reached chapter 16, I would have handled some of the text a little differently. But I am gratified to hear periodically from people who are still listening to that series and find something helpful in it. It certainly was helpful to me.

I didn’t think I would survive the book of Romans. I’ve had a few doubts during the last five years in John. But God has graciously sustained my strength and this ministry. We’ve been on a roller coaster over the last seven years. I’ve never seen this kind of recurring and sustained stress and controversy in a church, nor have I ever seen the level of love, unity, joy, and enthusiasm in a local congregation. This church could have perished, collapsed, or closed a half dozen times since 2014, but here we are. We stand only by grace, and we will continue to proclaim sovereign grace so long as the Lord gives breath to our bodies and keeps our doors open.

If Romans was the birth pangs which introduced the gospel to a congregation that formerly had not known it (or had not heard it regularly and distinctly from the pulpit), then John (and the concurrent series on the Westminster Confession of Faith) has been our elementary education. We are not the church we were five or six or seven years ago. I am not the preacher, pastor, husband, or father I was then. We’ve changed. I think/hope/pray/trust we have grown. What’s humbling is realizing how much we still have to grow, how much more there is to know. It is humbling, and exciting. Considering how God used Romans to reform this congregation and how he used John to edify, equip, and empower it, what might he do next? How will the next book series and those after be used by God as instruments for his strengthening, sanctifying, and saving work?

At some point you will be done with me, or the Lord will. I am only a tool in his hand, and whenever he finishes whatever job he picked me up to accomplish, he will put me down. But I hope you are never finished with Romans or the Gospel of John. I hope these books continue to thrill you, fascinate you, and occupy you for the rest of your earthly sojourn. God used expository preaching--which was rarely, if ever, done in the churches of my upbringing--to teach me the gospel and open my eyes to grace. Expository preaching, not the preacher. I hope that is your experience as well. The power is in the message, not the messenger. God willing, the messenger will be forgotten. But I pray the message will burn, bright and hot, for the rest of your life. --JME (August 2020)

My Last Sermon

I don’t think I’ve ever shared this with Kirstie or anyone else, but every week when I finish writing the sermons for Sunday, it puts me in a somber but peaceful mood. This is not because the work is complete. I am rarely satisfied with the finished product, and as was reportedly the case with E. B. White, I simply have to stop working on it due to a deadline rather than because I am happy with it. But I am somber because every week it occurs to me that these may be the last sermons I ever write. One of the reasons I began manuscripting most of my sermons several years ago is that I did not want their content to depend on my delivery. So every week once the manuscript is complete I reflect on the fact that if I die before the Lord’s Day, my wife and children will still be able to read what I planned to say.

I’ve had a similar experience the last three weeks in recording sermons to be studied on Sunday. It is very odd to be finished “preaching” on Friday; I certainly don’t want to make a habit of it. But it has occurred to me each week that if I am struck down by the Corona virus or hit by a bus or drop a kettlebell on my head before Sunday… at least the sermon will still be available.

I hope your day is not made more morbid by eavesdropping on my thoughts today. That’s not my intent. Some of us were introduced to our own mortality quite early, and it gives one a very different perspective on life. I am sharing this not because I’m in the mood to bare my soul, but because every one of us, and our children, has an opportunity right now to reflect in positive and helpful ways on our own mortality. Death is a certainty, unless the Lord returns first; being born creates a terminal condition. We need to live like people that know it. Someday I will preach my last sermon. It may be when I am old. It may be many years from now. Or it may have already happened, and I am simply unaware of it. Am I prepared for this sermon to be my last sermon? What about my last conversation with my kids or my spouse? We cannot live every day as if it were our last. That would be unworkable, but we can resolve as Jonathan Edwards did many years ago “never to do anything, which I should be afraid to do, if it were the last hour of my life,” “that I will live so as I shall wish I had done when I come to die,” and “to think much on all occasions of my own dying, and of the common circumstances which attend death.” The writer of Ecclesiastes teaches us it is “better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for that is the end of all men; and the living will take it to heart” (Ecc. 7:2).

Thinking of the certainty of our own death should not make us morbid or sad but rather joyfully somber. Perhaps one of the ways this pandemic will positively affect and sanctify is by helping us to think more often and more productively of our own mortality and to live more faithfully as prepared people. -JME

Changing My Pulpit/Preaching Translation

It’s something I should have done a long time ago. Before I came to Arizona (1998-2013), I varied which translation I used for preaching and teaching on a fairly regular basis. The New King James Version was my primary and preferred text, but I used the New American Standard, King James, and English Standard (starting around 2004 or 2005) in the pulpit and classes quite frequently. It never occurred to me that I should choose one translation as my “standard” preaching version. Now I see the benefit of doing so, but I did not think of it at the time. When I moved to Arizona I was using the ESV like most “young, restless, and reformed” preachers. There were things I liked about it and things I didn’t, but I didn’t give it much thought. I assumed I would move on to a different text at some point as I had done before. Then it happened. Everyone in the church began buying ESVs. I should have seen it coming. When it began, I should have quickly switched to the version I preferred. But I didn’t. And so, six years later, inconvenient as it is, I am transitioning. After January 1st, I will be using the NKJV for public Bible reading and (most) of my preaching and teaching.

I say (most), because I like the flexibility of being able to use a different version when and where it better expresses the underlying original. I may (will) still refer to other translations from time to time when teaching a given text. But the last six years have taught me--nay, thoroughly convinced me--the value of having a liturgical standard for Bible translation. The congregation knows what to expect and is able to follow along in the same translation if they choose. The Bible translation read in the pulpit should not vary week to week. There is an advantage to consistency. It promotes memorization. It contributes to the rhythm of weekly worship.

If that is so, why change? Don’t we have this already, to some extent, with the ESV? Yes, to the latter question, but the value of a standard translation for the pulpit does not mean it can never change. (Unless you all would like to use the Geneva Bible. I have a beautiful copy and would be happy to start using it!) We’ve had guest speakers that have used several different translations. Jacob recently started using the NKJV when leading worship and preaching. It was an adjustment, but the congregation easily adapted. Why change from the ESV to the NKJV? I have several reasons, but basically it comes down to the fact that I prefer it. It is the version in which I have done most of my memory work. It has a style and rhythm I am comfortable with having read and preached from it for years. I also prefer its underlying textual basis. For those of you that know something about textual criticism, I am a Majority Text advocate, though I regularly consult and work in the Critical (Nestle-Aland/UBS) Text when studying the NT. Studying textual criticism in seminary (and reading about and following debates over it almost constantly since then) have only made me more convinced of its superiority. It is not a hill to die on or anything that affects fellowship; I am simply convinced of the historical and theological superiority of the majority text tradition. But for all of these reasons, if consistency in the pulpit Bible is valuable, then I would rather be consistently using a translation I prefer.

So what should you do if you have an ESV? I recommend reading it: frequently, carefully, systematically, thoroughly, and repeatedly. Underline, annotate, and study the text. If you use it in the worship assemblies or Wednesday evening study, you will notice some differences starting January 5th. If this makes it difficult for you to follow along, you can always pick up an inexpensive NKJV to use at church. But this is not about undermining or deriding the ESV. The ESV is a good translation, a faithful representation of the Word of God. Yes, it differs in places from the NKJV, and Christian brothers can have reasonable and robust discussions about those differences in the text. But both are the work of conservative, Bible-believing scholars who take a conservative approach to translation and who seek to represent the underlying Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek faithfully. I simply prefer the NKJV/KJV, so that is what I will begin reading and preaching from starting Sunday, January 5th.

(We will continue to use the ESV for the Ten Commandments on the first Sunday of each month and the Corporate Confession of Sin from 1 Timothy 1:15 since these are already printed and have been memorized by a large part of the congregation.)

--JME (December 2019)

Proclaiming the Kingdom, Not Building Castles

The Church belongs to Jesus Christ. It is not mine; it is not yours; it is not even ours. The Church is the Body of Jesus Christ. He purchased it with his own blood (Acts 20:28). He rules it (1Cor. 14:37), protects it (Rom. 16:20), provides for it (Eph. 4:11-12), guides it (Heb. 12:1-2), and will one day return to be reunited it (1Thess. 4:13-18). The Church is both visible (1Cor. 1:2) and invisible (Heb. 12:22-24). It is organically related by brotherhood (Eph. 2:19-22) and institutionally connected by its doctrine and officers (Acts 15:1-32). The one Church holds in common a confession of faith, sacraments of grace, and hope in the Lord’s return (Eph. 4:4-6).

Sadly today many churches and Christians seem more interested in building castles than the Lord’s kingdom. There is a sense, of course, in which we cannot build the Lord’s kingdom. That is God’s work, not ours. We are looking for a city whose builder and maker is God (Heb. 11:10). We are not constructing the eschatological city or ushering it in with the works of our own hands. But we are called to proclaim Christ’s kingdom, that he is Lord of all (Acts 2:36; 17:30-31). The Church is commissioned to preach the Gospel under the authority and direction of Christ (Matt. 28:18-20), and the Gospel is God’s means of regenerating hearts (1Pet. 1:23), imparting faith (Rom. 10:17), and transferring men from the power of Satan to the kingdom of Christ (Col. 1:13).

In a culture full of mega-churches, church growth strategies, and celebrity-driven ministries, the confessing Church must think seriously and biblically about our true purpose, strategic aims, and ministry methods. Are we promoting Christ or ourselves? Are we proclaiming his kingship or protecting our own fiefdom? Are we taking the message of our King’s victory into enemy territory, seeking to free captive souls held under the power of the Devil, or are we enlarging towers, digging deeper moats, and contenting ourselves with merely beautifying and maintaining our own castle? Brothers and sisters, we need a larger vision for Christ’s Church and not only our own local congregation. We need think in terms of the kingdom and not only in terms of our own castle. We need to see ourselves in terms of the larger mission and not simply pass the time. We are waiting, praying, and longing for the return of the King. There is work to be done in the meantime. –JME

We Preach Exclamation Points, Not Question Marks

One of my heroes growing up in the Churches of Christ was a gentle, godly man who was known for saying, “We preach exclamation points, not question marks.” Now there is a sense in which we ought to be more than a little skeptical of this statement. We ought to be sensitive to the fact that while Scripture is sufficient in matters of life and godliness (2Tim. 3:16-17; 2Pet. 1:3-4), there are many areas where we must exercise judgment and caution (e.g. Rom. 14). It is not virtuous to be dogmatic when we ought to be reserved. Speaking more loudly does not make what one says more true.

Having made that qualification, there is much to commend in the original statement. Far too many preachers and pastors have exercised a teaching ministry of thinking out loud when they should have been proclaiming “Thus says the Lord.” It may be easier and less controversial to speculate, rarely taking a side, to simply facilitate conversation, but it is not the task to which ministers of the Word are called (cf. Acts 20:28-32; 1Cor. 1:22-29; Eph. 4:11-16; 2Tim. 4:1-5). It is not speculation that will call men out of darkness and into God’s marvelous light; the gospel is the Spirit’s instrument for doing so (Rom. 10:17; 1Pet. 2:9).

There are times for a preacher, pastor, or teacher to be cautious, charitable, and to give others the benefit of the doubt. But there are times to name names, denounce false doctrine, and identify soul-damning error for what it is (e.g. Matt. 23; Gal. 2:2-6; 5:12; 1Tim. 1:5-11, 19-20). We need wisdom to distinguish exclamation points from legitimate question marks, and we need to spend the greater part of our time and energy proclaiming the former rather than the latter. Unfortunately it often seems as though some Christians are more willing to divide over tertiary issues than to rightly draw lines over primary issues. It is just as wrong to be dogmatic about matters of judgment as it is to refuse to draw lines where Scripture is emphatic and clear.

A faithful teacher of the Word will raise thoughtful questions and help hearers to think more carefully through issues of Scripture and theology. But merely raising questions is not the teacher’s ultimate role. We are called to proclaim truth, not question it. May God grant us the wisdom and courage to do so faithfully and effectively. –JME

Teaching, Transparency, and Touchy Subjects

Almost everyone who is a member or attends Reformation Bible Church does so for one reason: the teaching of God’s Word. I hope the relationships, the corporate worship, and the opportunities for service are also enjoyable and edifying, but let’s be honest, the reason most of us are here is because we take God’s word seriously. Before I was called and since the day I arrived, I have done my best to be transparent and to communicate regularly about my teaching strategy and plans. The church grows through the teaching of the Word (Rom. 10:17; 16:25-27), and the minister’s task is to present the whole counsel of God for the edification of the Body (Acts 20:26-27, 32; Eph. 4:11-12). There is never a week where I ask, “What do I feel like preaching?” Every lesson, every series, is planned well in advance as part of a prayer-full strategy for growing a healthy, faithful church.

It would be much easier to do a series on How To Be A Good Neighbor right now. After spending almost two years in Romans and going through such tremendous upheaval during that time, you could argue what the church needs right now is something… easy, soft, fuzzy, cuddly. Instead, we are tackling the doctrine of baptism and beginning to work through the Westminster Confession of Faith. Not the most ecumenical themes on the Christian menu. It may seem like a poorly planned poke in the eye, but actually, it is part of the larger strategy we hung out front on day one.

We don’t agree on all of these topics. We have differences on baptism, the covenants, predestination, election, and the atonement. The way I see it we have three options, only one of which is biblical. The elders could simply take a position on each of these issues and require every member to agree with it or leave. There are a number of churches that handle doctrinal disagreement on secondary issues that way, but it is divisive and wrong. We could confine our teaching to general topics on which everyone agrees and just pretend the differences do not exist. A lot of churches do this, but it is unhealthy and unbiblical. Or we can acknowledge our differences, love and respect one another, and open our Bibles to seek better understanding of one another and of God’s Word. At the end of the day, some of us will continue to disagree, but we will be better informed, and we will love each other in spite of it. I think that is the only reasonable, biblical, and faithful option and is the only way to build and grow a faithful church. So that’s what we’re doing, at least, as best we can, and it is what we will continue doing. Thanks for being part of the journey. –JME

Keeping the Main Thing in Ministry, the Main Thing

“Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.” (1^st Timothy 4:13-16)

It is hard to write about pastoral ministry, at least, it is hard to do so when you are a pastor. It is easy for teaching on the subject to seem (or be) self-serving. When that happens, a pastor’s credibility in speaking on other issues can suffer. It is understandable why pastors sometimes decide speaking about their own role in ministry is just not worth it.

A pastor is expected to be and do many things. Not all of the things asked of him are bad or even inappropriate. But quite often all of the “extra things” a pastor is asked to be and to do become so time-consuming and overwhelming that what he is called to be and to do by God begins to suffer. The pastor’s primary calling is not to be a friend (though he should be), a counselor (though he will have to be), a helper (though he is usually glad to be), or a CEO (he ought not to want to and ought never to have to be). The pastor’s calling is to be a minister of Christ, serving the Word and sacraments to the Body of Christ so as to build them up in faith, equip them for living faithfully and obediently, and proclaim the way of salvation in preparation for Judgment on the last day (cf. Acts 6:1-7; Eph. 4:11-16; Col. 1:24-29; 1-2 Timothy; Titus).

Take another look at the passage quoted above. What does Paul say ought to consume Timothy as a minister of the gospel? The public reading, exhortation, and teaching of Scripture. Attentiveness to the gift and calling of God confirmed by the elders. Immersive dedication to the work of studying and teaching God’s Word. Personal holiness. Introspection in life and pedagogy. And perseverance in the same with a view toward salvation, both personally and pastorally. These are the things pastors must devote themselves to daily, week after week, for the sake of their own soul and of the souls entrusted to them.

We live in an age of celebrity pastors. Pastors are often CEOs, motivational speakers, and social and political leaders as much or more than they are true ministers of Christ. Many exercise their ministry and influence independent of the church. Too often they lack meaningful accountability to the ecclesiastical structures the Lord gave us for the Church’s good. Churches expect their pastors to be hip, relevant, popular, and, to some extent, worldly in their focus and engagement. But this is not the plan God revealed in the Bible. The Lord gave His Church ordinary pastors to use ordinary means in faithful and largely unexceptional ways to proclaim an extraordinary message of grace. May the Lord raise up such men to lead and teach in churches today, and may churches demand such ministers who will so keep Christ before them.–JME

Back to the Future...Or, Our New Old Pulpit

You may have noticed something different last week: there is a new pulpit on-stage. Actually it is not a new pulpit at all. It is an old one, our old one, in fact. When it was replaced I do not know, but it has been out of service for many years. It was in a storage room in Building B when we decided to make a change. We brought it to the Worship Center, removed the wheels from the bottom, and set it in its place facing the auditorium seats.

The new pulpit is a little old. It is not as trendy as the glass one we had been using. It is simple and traditional. Its solid wood and straight lines resemble the rampart of a fort more than a stand for the speaker’s notes. It is the kind of pulpit you might have seen in 1915 or 1615 rather than 2015.

The new pulpit is a little beat up. There are some scratches and scrapes on it. It is a pulpit made to be used, not admired. It is a pulpit for preaching sermons, not telling stories. It is the kind of pulpit from which a preacher might contend and defend, and the scars are reminders of those Christ’s Church carries.

The new pulpit is solid, despite its age and blemishes. It is made of wood, not glass. It is strong, the kind of pulpit a preacher can smack with an open hand or fist to emphasize his point. It can support the preacher’s Bible and the significant doctrines it contains. It is the kind of pulpit for weighty preaching and can withstand use and abuse.

The new pulpit has been around awhile and is a little beat up, but it is solid, just like our congregation. We have seen difficult days, but we are still standing. In fact, we are stronger than ever. The pulpit is a symbol of who we are today, the changes that have been made, and the future that lies ahead. We seek an old way forward, an ancient way, the way announced by prophets, apostles, and preachers since the time of Abraham. The pulpit represents what we are building on: the preaching of God’s word. Scripture is primary, the teaching of it is central, and its place is permanent. The new pulpit does not have wheels, because preaching should not be pushed aside. This is who we are. This is what we do. And this is what we will continue to do, by God’s grace, so long as the Lord wills. Soli Deo Gloria! -JME

Why Do I Listen To Preaching?

“As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, 'Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.' And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lustful songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it.” (Ezekiel 33:30-32)

I love listening to good preaching. It thrills me to sit at the feet of faithful men as they open their Bibles and expound the word of God. What a blessing it would have been to hear Ezekiel or Isaiah or John the Baptist or Paul preach! Not everyone enjoys good preaching, but those who do must be on-guard that our delight is not led astray.

The Lord warned Ezekiel not to be puffed up by the praise and popularity of his preaching. Men loved to come and hear him, but their enjoyment was superficial. They did not receive the word of God in their hearts. People enjoyed listening to Ezekiel the same way they enjoy beautiful music. But good preaching is not entertainment. It is edification (up-building) and instruction for the soul.

We must be careful that our joy in exposition does not remain on the surface of our hearts. God’s word is intended to pierce our inner being (Heb. 4:12). It lays us bare, convicting and converting us anew as we persevere in hearing, reading, studying, and meditating on it. James tells us, “Be doers of the word and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (1:22). That is a real danger for us all. So love preaching. Enjoy the delight of hearing God’s word proclaimed. Look forward to sitting under the instruction of God’s word. But let it do its work in you. Let the words sink deep in your heart. May the preaching of God’s word give us joy, but even more may we be better, more faithful, and more obedient for having heard it. -JME