Why Preaching is Central to Priesthood
Written by Carl R. Trueman |
Thursday, February 3, 2022
Preaching will only gain in practical importance as the aggressive myths of this present age are preached at us from every soap opera, commercial, and TikTok video. If the church is (humanly speaking) to survive, she needs to confront these falsehoods with the truth proclaimed in the preached Word. Chrysostom’s legacy is not just sacramental. It is also prophetic. And if we are to carry out the church’s prophetic calling, we too must make sure that our preaching is powerful and central. That is one important way to honor Chrysostom’s legacy.
Years ago, when teaching at a seminary, I was responsible for the course on the ancient church. In every class I have ever taught, I have regarded it as my chief task to introduce students to the great primary texts on the subject at hand; in this course, I made sure that they became acquainted with John Chrysostom’s On the Priesthood. Of course, any book with the word “priesthood” in the title was not an obvious choice for the Presbyterians who generally populated my classes, but it was nonetheless a text that proved popular and, if emails from graduates are any basis for judgment, useful to those who went on to ordained ministry.
Orthodox and Catholics may be surprised by that. Chrysostom’s conception of the ministry is, after all, highly sacramental, with baptism and the eucharist at its heart. But it is not just the sacraments that are at the heart of Chrysostom’s understanding of ministry. As his nickname indicates, he was an outstanding preacher. On the Priesthood demonstrates that the proclamation of the Word was a vital part of his conception of the ministry.
His chapter on the ministry of the Word is, perhaps unintentionally, one of the most amusing. In a section on how to handle responses to sermons, he advises preachers to pay no attention to criticism from laypeople as, untrained as they are, they are incompetent to offer such. The sting in the tale, of course, is that the same principle applies to praise. The admirer is no more competent than the critic; and just as criticism should not cause the preacher to be despondent, so praise should not tempt him to pride.
Amusing pearls of wisdom aside, Chrysostom’s greatest lesson for the church today is arguably the importance he ascribes to the preached Word in his account of the priesthood and in his own ministry. In our day, secular indifference to religion is rapidly changing to positive hostility throughout much of the West.
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Does Jesus’ View of Grace Offend You? The Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard
Before time, God determined to save a people. The Son agreed that he would come, that he would take on flesh, that he would bear the sins of his people, that he would give his body to be tortured and crucified for them. The gift of the kingdom of heaven is free for the recipients, but costly for the giver. God purchased the kingdom of heaven for us with the blood of his Son (1 Pet. 1:18-19). Love it or despise it, this is grace. This is the beating heart of the Bible. God is a gracious God. He gives the kingdom of heaven. He gives it to the undeserving. He gives it at the cost of his Son’s blood. Salvation comes only by grace.
Where is grace? Real grace. True grace.
Giving to one another generously and abundantly, without thought of any payback? Giving not just from a bucket of excess, but from one’s needs? Giving that causes the giver to suffer? Giving to those who can never repay? Giving to those who hate you? Who have harmed you?
Where is this grace? It is a foreign object. We don’t see it. We don’t understand it. We don’t do it. We don’t know how to do it. And we don’t like it.
I am likely typical. I give of my surplus: my surplus money, time, and energy. And I hope to be noticed, to get appropriate gratitude and applause. When do I give without wanting anything back? When do I give to those who hurt me or insult me?
Grace is pouring out one’s life, without any hope of something being poured back. Grace is pouring out our time, talents, resources, physical and mental energy, without looking to see what is left. Grace is emptying self, until suffering, even upon those who hate.
Who does this? We hear rumors of it, but we don’t see it. What is familiar is the pouring out of anger and frustration. We are harsh with each other. Even in our homes, grace is alien. We get cross with each other. Prickly. “I have poured out much. You have poured out little. So I will punish you, and coddle myself.”
Grace is central to Christianity, and so it is still in the DNA of Western society. This means that one important aspect of grace—giving one’s life for the good of others—is still admired.
But true Christian grace has been pummeled. The German philosopher Nietzsche (1844-1900) did a lot of the demolition. He derided the Christian values of humility, kindness, and pity. These only got in the way of the ideal “superman,” the “magnified man, disciplined and perfected in both mental and physical strength, serene and pitiless, ruthlessly pursuing his path of success and victory and without moral scruples” (Oxford Dictionary of the Christian Church, 1997, p.1154). Nietzsche understood grace, and it disgusted him.
Grace is alien to us.
Ayn Rand (1905-82) was the same. In her much-admired novel The Fountainhead, hero Howard Roark is strong and talented. He takes what he wants and lives unashamedly for himself in order to achieve his fullest potential and fulfill his destiny. He cares nothing for the weak, the disabled, or the frail. These are hindrances to be thrown off. Grace has no place in Rand’s system. By retarding the strong and the talented, Grace just poisons things.
Such attacks on grace have not been unsuccessful. Our naturally ungracious hearts have lapped it up. In short, grace is alien to us.
In fact it is so alien to humanity, that in order for us to understand grace, Jesus has to shock us. And he does that in his parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard.
He tells a story that will antagonize us, that will perhaps even enrage us. When builders insert bolts into concrete, they use explosive tools. Explosive charges force and break the bolt into the hard concrete. The concrete is our graceless hearts. The explosive bolt is Jesus’ parable. He tells it not to guilt us into grace. He tells it that we might understand grace, and so be in a position to receive it. For it is only when we have received grace that we can come to be gracious.
Here is the parable from Matthew 20:1-16,“For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard. And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and to them he said, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’ And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius….”
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Suffering And The Sovereignty Of God – Part 5
But unless you see your sin, unless you see your wickedness as a greater evil than all your trials, unless you see the wrath of God and His eternal punishment, more severe and more frightening than any trial, you are not going to find joy in the salvation that Jesus Christ provides. God is very much in our lives, working quietly behind the scenes, through the job losses, through the floods, through the fires, through harsh governments, through unjust employers, through miscarriages, through failures, through difficult marriages, so that we might see more of our sin, but also that we might see much more of our Saviour and be anchored in him.
So how should we respond to suffering? How should we as pastors respond to suffering? I’m going to give you 12 points, and they’re going to summarize all that has been said before.
1. Don’t be surprised when trials come. That’s 1 Peter 4:12. Expect it, talk about it, get together with other pastors frequently, read good books on suffering and talk about it. So I was looking at the website of the All India Pastors Conference, and there are some great books recommended there, Surprised by Suffering: The Role of Pain in the Christian Life by R.C. Sproul. Let me recommend another book, Weakness is the Way, by J.I. Packer, or just read, Suffering and the Sovereignty of God by John Piper. Don’t be surprised, keep talking about it when you’re not suffering, and prepare yourself for that day when you will suffer.
2. Remember the gospel and your calling. Christ also suffered leaving you an example. You have been called to this, this is God’s will for you. You see that in 1 Peter 2:21 and Philippians 1:21. Always remember that that’s the first fuse to blow.
3. Be mindful of God. Remember his sovereignty over all things, and entrust yourself to him, especially when you suffer unjustly when it’s not your fault. And let me suggest this, start with the small things. Remind yourself that he is sovereign, when your bike tire gets punctured, when you miss the bus, when the electricity goes off, when the motor doesn’t work, when your children fall sick, be mindful of God when the little things go wrong. And then you will be able to submit to Him when the great sorrows arise.
4. Trust in the Lord’s wisdom and power. He knows how to rescue the godly from trials (2 Peter 2:9). He knows what he’s doing. So often when I’m confused and weary and tired, I say to myself, “I don’t know what’s happening.” But I have comfort that the Lord knows what he’s doing. He knows what he’s doing.
5. Remember, suffering is for your sanctification. It is meant to produce endurance. You see that in Romans 5:3, so teach yourself that from the New Testament. Teach Yourself that from the Old Testament. Do you remember what David said in Psalm 119:71? “It is good for me that I was afflicted so that I may learn your statutes.”
6. Remember that suffering and trials are battles that require you, pastor, to fight your unbelief. Fight it with faith in Christ’s all sufficient work, share and suffering as a good Soldier of Christ Jesus (2 Timothy 2:3).
7. Pray, pray, pray and pray. Remember what James 5:13 says, Is there anyone among you who is suffering? What should you do? Pray, go to the one who has all authority and all power. Go to the one who can help you, and you will receive grace and mercy in time of your need. Christ ensures that you will get that.
8. Endure suffering and remain steadfast, knowing that you will receive the crown of life. That’s what James 1:12 says.
9. Resist the devil and be firm in your faith. Resist the devil and be firm in your faith, and remember the church. In 1 Peter 5:9, Peter says your brothers face the same problems all over the world. Remember, you are not alone.
10. Rejoice. Count it all joy (James 1:2). This is God working in you.
11. Be filled with hope. Remember that all suffering is temporary.
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Empathy, Feminism, and the Church
The Scriptures teach both by precept and example that God’s ministers–those who serve in God’s sanctuary, must be “jealous with his jealousy” (Numbers 25:12), that is, our zeal for God’s holiness must supersede our natural love for our family and friends and neighbors. The truth of God, the right worship of God, is more precious to us, such that we will not compromise or buckle even in the face of natural affection, even under the influence of pity and empathy. The relevant application for us, as Fr. Robinson noted, is that the empathetic sex is ill-suited to the ministerial office, and thus women’s ordination is indeed a watershed issue.
A number of years ago, I kicked up a hornet’s nest by highlighting how empathy, as understood and practiced in the modern world, is dangerous, destructive, and sinful. Since then, every so often, another battle in the Empathy Wars breaks out (usually on social media), and we all learn something. In most of these dustups, there is an underlying dynamic that manifests again and again, and now seemed as good a time as any to identify it. Providentially, the recent controversy involving Fr. Calvin Robinson and the Mere Anglicanism conference provides the perfect opportunity to do so. The dynamic I have in mind is the intersection of feminism in the church, theological drift, and the sin of empathy.
My basic contention is that running beneath the ideological conflicts surrounding all things “woke” (race, sexuality, abuse, and LGBTQ+) is a common emotional dynamic involving untethered empathy–that is, a concern for the hurting and vulnerable that is unmoored from truth, goodness, and reality. In the modern context, empathy is frequently, as one author put it, “a disguise for anxiety” and “a power tool in the hands of the sensitive.” It is the means by which various aggrieved groups have been able to steer communities into catering to greater and greater folly and injustice. And a key ingredient in making this steering effective is feminism.
Controversy in Carolina
Which brings me to Fr. Robinson. Others have described the controversy in greater detail (see here, here, and here), but the simplified version is that Fr. Robinson was asked to speak on Critical Theory: Antithetical to the Gospel. Rather than simply focusing on Critical Race Theory or Queer Theory, Fr. Robinson went to the root of the matter and identified Marxism, Liberalism, and Feminism as the origin of the rest. In particular, he identified feminism as the gateway drug to Critical Theory in the church, calling women’s ordination a “Trojan Horse” and a “cancer.” In doing so, Fr. Robinson was simply following in the footsteps of another Anglican intellectual, C.S. Lewis, who in his famous essay, “Priestesses in the Church?”, notes that ordaining priestesses seems to entail a number of other modifications to Christian theology, including addressing “Our Mother in Heaven,” and the notion that Incarnation might just as well have taken a female form.1 As Lewis notes, “Goddesses have, of course, been worshiped: many religions have had priestesses. But they are religions quite different in character from Christianity.” You can read Fr. Robinson’s full remarks at his substack. He ably describes the ideological dimension of the slippery slope from feminism to other forms of Critical Theory (his account of Marx, Luther, and Liberalism is less compelling)
More than that, he briefly described the social dynamics in play and connected it particularly to empathy.
Generally speaking, men tend to be more theologically rigid, whereas women tend to be more theologically flexible. That is because men do not have the emotional intelligence of women. We are more black and white, meaning we tend to be logic-based when it comes to problem solving. Women tend to be more inclusive. They are more empathetic and tend to be more emotion-based when solving problems. You can see how that might be a problem when a group is claiming to be an oppressed minority, and the thing preventing them from attending Church is the cruel doctrines and the regressive scriptures we follow. Which empath wouldn’t want to compromise in order to make a so-called oppressed minority feel included?
To expand on Robinson’s point, he is correct that, in general, women are more empathetic than men. And, in itself, this is a God-given blessing. Empathy–that is, vicariously experiencing the emotions of another–can be a wonderful thing in its place. It fosters connection and bonding. It’s why women frequently act as the glue that holds communities together. Abigail Dodds describes some of the benefits of this God-given feature.
Research shows that women in particular are more empathetic than men when seeing other people in pain. I think this reflects a wonderful design feature that God has given women that benefits not only any children we might have, but our entire communities.
A woman who is sensitive to the feelings of others, especially their pain, will be a sort of first responder. She is able to move toward the hurting. She can sound the alarm that someone is in need. And very practically for mothers, she can sense her infant’s need for food and sleep and attention. She can detect a downcast glance from her teenage daughter or son. She can tell if her husband is carrying some frustration from his workday. Doesn’t this make sense with God’s design for a woman? The one he called helper (Genesis 2:18)? What a gift God has given to women.
Crucially, however, what is a blessing in one place is a curse in another. The same impulse that leads a woman to move toward the hurting with comfort and welcome becomes a major liability when it comes to guarding the doctrine and worship of the church. There are times–usually involving grave error or gross sin–when God forbids empathy and pity. When someone–even a close family member–entices Israel to commit idolatry and abandon the Lord, “You shall not yield to him, or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him” (Deuteronomy 13:6-10). So also in the case of first-degree murder, or of bearing false witness in court (Deuteronomy 7:16, 19:13, and 19:21). In such cases, God is adamant that “your eye shall not pity them.”
This principle is highly relevant for the leadership and governance of the church (whether we’re talking Anglican priests, Presbyterian elders, or Baptist pastors). Whatever other functions ministers may perform (administration, service, care for the sick), the sine qua non of the ministerial office is teaching and guarding the doctrine and worship of the church. In such moments, empathy and pity are a liability, not an asset.
To use a biblical example, when Moses comes down the mountain in Exodus 32 and witnesses the gross idolatry of the Israelites, he says, “Who is on the Lord’s side? Come to me.” And the sons of Levi gathered to him. He then tells them to pick up their swords and to go to and fro through the camp, killing their brothers, companions, and neighbors. Their eye was not to pity those who had committed such evil. God’s response to their obedience was to ordain them to the priesthood.
Similarly, in Numbers 25, when the Israelites are confronted with the very first Pride parade, when the Israelite man struts through the camp with his idolatrous Midianite bride, Moses and the elders of Israel weep at the tent of meeting. Phinehas, however, takes action, following the man and woman into their tent and driving his spear through both of them (presumably while in coitus). And God’s response is to say, “That man will make a great priest.”
In other words, the Scriptures teach both by precept and example that God’s ministers–those who serve in God’s sanctuary, must be “jealous with his jealousy” (Numbers 25:12), that is, our zeal for God’s holiness must supersede our natural love for our family and friends and neighbors. The truth of God, the right worship of God, is more precious to us, such that we will not compromise or buckle even in the face of natural affection, even under the influence of pity and empathy. The relevant application for us, as Fr. Robinson noted, is that the empathetic sex is ill-suited to the ministerial office, and thus women’s ordination is indeed a watershed issue.
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