Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in . . . love. (1 Timothy 4:12)

Setting an example is a powerful and essential part of pastoral leadership. A strong line of reasoning in preaching, even a soundly biblical argument, might fail to persuade. But a personal example of Christlikeness, especially what Francis Schaeffer called “the beauty of human relationships,” is unanswerable (Two Contents, Two Realities, 141). Beauty can be martyred, but it cannot be denied, and it will rise again.

A young pastor can and must deeply resolve to love everyone in his church and outside his church with Christlike love. He can and must set the believers an example by his gracious, patient, gentle, forgiving, pain-tolerant love. But without the beauty of love, any pastor, however orthodox, becomes a living denial of Christ. To quote Schaeffer again, “There is nothing more ugly than an orthodoxy without understanding or without compassion” (The God Who Is There, 34). Schaeffer was even more blunt: “I’ll tell you something else, orthodoxy without compassion stinks to God” (Death in the City, 1968, 123).

Pastoral ministry is not a career track, not a job, not a gig. It is a sacred calling from above. And the pastoral calling is basically twofold: to preach Christ and to embody Christ. The former is a matter of declaring the truth, the latter of demonstrating the truth. And how can we truly declare the truth without also demonstrating it? If we pastors do not set an example in love, we unsay by our lives what we say by our doctrine. Such an anti-example betrays the gospel. And that horrible betrayal is not a remotely hypothetical possibility. That betrayal of the gospel is common.

We pastors need not be perfect. All of us have many shortcomings. But still, following God’s call, we pastors must accept, deeply accept, that we have signed up for sacrifice. It’s how we set an example of love.

Our Sacred Calling

The apostle John says, “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him” (1 John 4:9). Jesus died that we would live. That is how love thinks, how love behaves — paying a price, that others might enter into the life that is truly life. So, Bonhoeffer was right: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die” (The Cost of Discipleship, 89).

Recently I was in conversation with a friend who serves in a church-planting network. He told me that one of the questions he hears, as men consider that call, is whether they might have to exceed a forty-hour workweek. I was astounded, as was my friend. Limit ourselves to a forty-hour week? Love doesn’t think that way. Love does whatever it takes for others to live. Should a pastor attend to his family at home too? Of course. But a self-protective minimalism is not love.

“Pastoral ministry is not a career track, not a job, not a gig. It is a sacred calling from above.”

When the apostle Paul was describing the great heart of God for us, he had to strain at the leash of language to say it. He speaks, for example, of “the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us” (Ephesians 1:7–8). If God loves us richly and lavishly, then his pastors cannot love with a guarded heart that holds back. We pastors have the privilege of hurling ourselves, by faith in God, into the depths of his love for people. Then we find out along the way what it will cost us. And we’re fine with that, because we will also see how wonderfully people will come alive — even through us, flawed as we are.

Beauty Through Sacrifice

I remember my final Sunday as pastor at Immanuel Church Nashville in 2019. Jani and I were sitting in the front row, waiting for the service to begin. The band was playing a pre-service number. I forget what it was, but it was a bluesy, rocky something, to the glory of Christ, and utterly delightful. Then my peripheral vision noticed movement off to my left. I looked. And there, about fifty feet away, was a young mom in the church, no longer sitting but standing and moving and even dancing. She wasn’t making a spectacle of herself. There was no hint of self-display. She was just too happy to sit still. And Jani and I knew that dear lady. We knew she didn’t live a charmed life. But there she was, her heart moved by the music and lifted up to the Lord, dancing.

The sight of her joy was so beautiful, I choked up. And in that moment, I knew and felt that all the pain and heartache and sheer hard work we went through to establish Immanuel Church as a gift to our city — it was all worth it. Why? Because it funneled down to one final moment in 2019 when a young mom was enjoying the felt presence of the living Christ so wonderfully she had to get up and dance. In that sacred moment, our sacrifices no longer felt sacrificial. We were too happy to care about all that.

Love and Its Opposite

I wish I could say I always feel that way. But I don’t. Many times, I have to grab myself by the scruff of the neck and say, “Ray Ortlund, you’re going to go do the right thing, and you’re going to like it!” I expect you understand. And here is a line of thought I use as a diagnostic, a way of helping myself realign with Jesus, even in the moment. It’s these two opposites: what a loving pastor is not, and what a loving pastor is.

What a loving pastor is not: He is not out for himself. He does not perceive other people through a lens of cost-benefit calculation. He does not treat others as props on the stage of his grandiose drama. He does not make people into stepping stones on his upward path to ministerial stardom, a big platform, epic book sales, and invitations to speak at big-deal events. He does not curve reality back in on himself, his own advantage, his own importance. He is not self-referential in how he navigates reality. In fact, a selfish mentality is repugnant to a loving pastor.

“If we pastors do not set an example in love, we unsay by our lives what we say by our doctrine.”

What a loving pastor is: He is a man for others. He sets a cheerful “for you” tone as the culture of his church. He feels a gentle fierceness that people will not walk out of church on a Sunday without feeling seen, understood, valued. He is willing to lose, but he is determined to protect others. He will explain himself, but he will not fight for himself. He gives his all, and he enjoys doing so, because the people he serves matter that much to him. If he feels successful, it’s because more and more people are coming alive to Jesus. And he marvels that the Lord has given him such a glorious privilege.

Love Has a Future

As you set the believers an example in love, sadly, some might not see the beauty of it. They might even dislike you for it. Your selfless love might stand as a living reproach to their own selfishness and worldliness. In their eyes, your love might be made into your crime. They might even throw you out. But it is better to fail by doing what is right than to succeed by doing what is wrong, better to fail in the Spirit than to succeed in the flesh. Such a failure still contributes to the great battle being fought in the heavenlies in your generation.

But most people who claim Christ are reasonable. They will rejoice to receive your ministry, and they will join you in your spirit of Christlike love. Even if it does end badly, “they will know that a prophet has been among them” (Ezekiel 33:33). And the resurrection of Jesus proves this promise: “There is a future for the man of peace” (Psalm 37:37).

Were you to survey married couples about their money-management goals, most answers would focus on some form of financial success. Most people strive to accumulate better houses, nicer cars, more toys, and bigger retirement accounts. But when it comes to the dream of financial prosperity and security, we should ask, “Whose dream is it?” It may be the American dream — but is it the dream of the risen Jesus? And since what glorifies him is also for our good, is it a dream that’s ultimately in the best interests of our family?

The process of discovering God’s countercultural will about money and possessions can both excite and liberate. For my late wife, Nanci, and me, our growth in financial stewardship paralleled our spiritual growth. In fact, it propelled it. We learned about faith, grace, commitment, generosity, and God’s provision. We had challenging giving discussions that ultimately strengthened our marriage and bonded us around the common goal of investing in eternity.

Using the word makarios, which means “happy-making,” Jesus said, “There is more happiness in giving than in receiving” (Acts 20:35 GNT). Nanci and I found that happiness, not duty, permeates a God-honoring theology of money. When grace-saturated, kingdom-minded disciples use God’s money and possessions, we fulfill the first and second greatest commandments. We store up treasures in heaven and “take hold of that which is truly life” (1 Timothy 6:19).

The following principles can help you and your spouse develop a lifestyle of good stewardship that will yield dividends, now and forever.

1. Recognize the dangers of a possessions-centered life.

Although there is nothing inherently wrong with money, something is desperately wrong with devotion to money. “Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare. . . . For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils” (1 Timothy 6:9–10).

Understanding the dangers of materialism can liberate us to experience the joys of Christ-centered stewardship. Jesus speaks of the “deceitfulness of riches” (Mark 4:19). The psalmist warns, “Though your riches increase, do not set your heart on them” (Psalm 62:10 NIV). None of us is immune to the value-changing nature of wealth.

Things have mass, mass exerts gravity, and gravity holds us in orbit around the things we accumulate. A friend told me that when he and his wife were first married, they spent their time taking walks, playing games, and reading together. They were content. Later, as their income rose, they found themselves trapped by shifting priorities. Little by little, money and possessions took precedence over God, church, and meaningful time together.

Studies and anecdotal evidence have shown a connection between an increase in income and marital infidelity. Of course, the point is not the income itself but the lifestyle it underwrites. A Christian can make a million dollars a year, give generously, live modestly, and avoid much of that added temptation to immorality. It is not how much we make that matters. It is how much we keep.

How can we recognize if we are falling into materialism’s trap? “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also” (Matthew 6:21). Jesus is saying, “Show me your bank statement, your credit card statement, and your receipts, and I’ll show you where your heart is.” What we do with our money is an inarguable statement of our values.

God declares, “Whatever is under the whole heaven is mine” (Job 41:11). God’s ownership of everything provides the foundation of a biblical theology of money and the antidote to materialism. Acutely aware of the fact that what we have is God’s and not ours, faithful money-managing stewards regularly consult him to implement his biblical investment priorities.

2. Make generous giving a priority.

I encourage you to commit to giving regularly to your local church and, above and beyond that, to missions and other ministries. Begin by setting an amount to give — I recommend not less than 10 percent — and stick with it so you honor God with your firstfruits (Proverbs 3:9). If you want him to bless your family’s finances, don’t place yourself under the curse of disobedience.

“Happiness, not duty, permeates a God-honoring theology of money.”

As thunder follows lightning, giving follows grace (2 Corinthians 8:1–2). If God’s grace touches you, you can’t help but give generously! Then, when God entrusts you with more, remind yourselves why: “So that you can be generous on every occasion” (2 Corinthians 9:11 NIV). (Contrary to the health-and-wealth gospel, God prospers us not to raise our standard of living, but to raise our standard of giving.)

If you have not been in the habit of giving, it can be challenging to begin. However, I ask people, “If you got a 10 percent pay cut, would you die?” Of course not! God is big enough to take care of you if you step out in faith and return to him what is his in the first place.

What if you and your spouse are not on the same page about giving? I learned over the years that my desire to give sacrificially could sometimes feel insensitive to Nanci. When I learned to be more generous with her (and our daughters), Nanci no longer felt that giving to kingdom causes competed with our family’s needs. Through many conversations, she learned to find increasing joy in giving, and I learned to find increasing joy in growing together and leading — but not pushing or pulling. We were holding hands, even if sometimes one of us was a step ahead. (As the years went by, the one ahead was increasingly her.)

Of course, God wants us to do many good things with money that do not involve giving. We must provide for our family’s basic material needs, for example (1 Timothy 5:8). But these good things are only a beginning. The money God entrusts to us is eternal investment capital. Every day is an opportunity to buy up more shares in his kingdom!

3. Set a budget so you can spend and save wisely.

Since the long-term consequences are severe when a couple disagrees about money, I can’t stress enough the importance of discussing financial matters. Start by making a careful record of spending so you can find out where your money is currently going. Then determine where it should be going. This will become the basis for your budget. (When I was a pastor, I met with families who followed a budget and did fine on a meager income. I met with others who made much more and were regularly in financial crisis.)

For some, the most practical way to budget is the envelope system. When paychecks are cashed, the cash goes into envelopes designated for giving, housing, food, gas, utilities, entertainment, clothing, saving, and so on. If nothing is left in the entertainment envelope halfway through the month, no more movies or eating out. If we overspend in one area, we must underspend elsewhere to compensate. The envelope system may seem antiquated, but it teaches us that resources are limited, which is an invaluable lesson.

What is the right balance between how much we give, use for needs and wants, and save? I believe the tension reflected in that question is healthy. We can prayerfully seek God’s guidance, determined to follow his lead as best as we can discern it.

Jesus tells us, “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things [what you eat, drink, and wear] will be given to you” (Matthew 6:33 NIV). Unlike the pagans who “run after all these things” and “worry about tomorrow,” believers can trust God (Matthew 6:25–34). If we believe that God can create us, redeem us, and bring us through death to spend eternity with him, we can take him at his word when he says he will provide for our material needs.

4. Avoid debt, except in rare instances.

The choice to live under debt (except in manageable amounts, such as with a mortgage payment well within your means) is ultimately deadening to the soul and to a marriage. It is always unwise to live above your income. It will invariably produce conflict in your marriage.

Trust means believing God will take care of our needs. When we go into debt, however, we usually do so to obtain wants, not needs. So the Bible cautions us against debt. The ESV translates the beginning of Romans 13:8, “Owe no one anything.” This would appear to prohibit debt. The NIV reads, “Let no debt remain outstanding.” This would allow debt, if paid off as soon as possible.

Not all debt is the same, however. I’m sympathetic to those in situations where, after prayer and evaluation, debt seems the only alternative. In such cases, nothing is wiser than giving first to God, cutting back expenditures, and systematically paying off debt as aggressively as possible.

Some consider mortgages an exception to avoiding debt, and a case can be made for borrowing to buy a reasonably priced house instead of renting. Unfortunately, many aspiring homeowners buy a house outside their budget. A couple I know assumed a large mortgage that depended on both of their incomes. When the wife became pregnant, they realized that to keep the house, they would have to violate their convictions against leaving their child in a daycare center while the mother worked.

What about credit cards? Some use them for convenience, paying off the amount owed on every statement to avoid interest. Nanci and I did this. This approach has advantages, but it also has drawbacks. The very convenience of having a credit card is often a liability — and constitutes temptation. Here are some prudent guidelines:

Never use credit cards for anything except budgeted purchases.
Pay off your credit cards every month.
The first month you have a credit card bill you cannot pay in full, destroy the card, pay it off, and don’t get another one.

5. Enjoy life to God’s glory.

As believers in a materialistic culture, we should embrace lifestyles that free up money to further the progress of the gospel. And yet, the answer is not asceticism, believing that money and possessions are inherently evil. Our God is a lavish giver (Romans 8:32). He provides pleasures and comforts he desires us to enjoy: “So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

Over the years, Nanci and I spent reasonable amounts of money on vacations that served to renew us. Even when our girls were small, we would have a date night, believing one of the best things we could do for our children was to maintain a strong marriage. (Make it a priority to date your spouse. Put it in your schedule and budget!)

Scripture says we are to put our hope not in material things but “in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment” (1 Timothy 6:17 NIV). That means we shouldn’t feel guilty for enjoying his provisions! God does not expect his followers to live like prisoners in a cell, never feasting or celebrating life. He entrusts us with money to care for our needs and the needs of others, but also so we can take pleasure in the life he has given us.

Invest in Eternity — Together

Many Christians store up their treasures on earth. They end up backing into eternity, heading away from their treasures. Christ calls us to turn it around — to store up our treasures in heaven. That way, every day moves us closer to our Treasure.

In her last years, Nanci and I reflected on the ways, by God’s grace, we had invested in eternity and served the Lord Jesus together. What lay behind us was meaningful, but what awaited us on death’s other side was what we spent our lives preparing for.

Shortly before she died, I was holding Nanci’s hand, and she said, with a smile and tears, “Randy, thank you for my life.” I replied, also crying, “Nanci, thank you for my life.” God had used us to grow each other spiritually and make us better followers of Jesus. We certainly didn’t do everything right, but with God’s help, we sought to store up far greater treasures in heaven than on earth.

I encourage you to put Christ in the center of your marriage and finances. You will never regret it. The eternal payoffs will forever bring you joy and your Savior glory!

If you were to ask me to name my favorite hymn, I’d probably hem and haw, then list a bunch of favorites, and end up saying, “It depends.” I mean, how do you choose a single favorite hymn? But if you were to ask me what hymn I sing most often when I’m alone with God, that would be easy: “Be Thou My Vision.” If that makes it my favorite, so be it.

For me, it’s become a love song, kind of like the familiar phrases I default to when telling my wife how much I love her, which over time have become infused with great depths of emotional meaning. The verses of this hymn give voice to my intimate delight in and longing for the Lover of my soul. When I sing it in private, just me and my piano, it’s rare when I can sing it without tears.

Typically, when a song touches me deeply, I’m curious to know more about who wrote it and why. I guess it’s easier to take hymns somewhat for granted. I’ve loved “Be Thou My Vision” for decades, but I never thought to look up its backstory until recently.

I discovered that this hymn’s origin is veiled in the misty past of ancient Ireland. We do know that the hymn’s progenitor is a poem that’s more than a millennium old, composed in Old Gaelic and consisting of sixteen couplets. Irish tradition claims its author was a beloved sixth-century Celtic poet named St. Dallán Forgaill, but scholars have linguistic reasons to doubt this claim. All we know is that the writer certainly was a poet and sure seems to have been a saint.

Thank God for Scholars and Editors

My search wasn’t in vain, because it revealed people God used to turn that ancient poem into the precious song we have today. Thank God for Mary Byrne (1880–1931), who dragged the poem out of academic obscurity by translating the ancient Gaelic into English. And thank God for Eleanor Hull (1860–1935), who chose twelve of the sixteen couplets from Byrne’s literal translation, and then skillfully crafted them into rhymes.

And thank God for the editors of the Irish Church Hymnal, who selected ten of Hull’s couplets, combined them into five four-line verses, and then, with a stroke of inspired genius, paired those deeply moving verses with an achingly beautiful Irish folk tune they named “Slane” (in honor of St. Patrick’s famous Easter festival fire on Slane Hill, which he burned in defiance of a pagan Irish king).

The hymn was first published in the 1919 edition of that Irish hymnal, and the rest, as they say, is history. “Be Thou My Vision” soon appeared in hymnals around the world, many of which trimmed it down to the four verses most of us know and love today.

Why do so many, like me, love this hymn so much? Because it gives poetic voice to our deep love and longing for the triune God, who is the Light of our lives (John 8:12), our ever-present, indwelling Word of life (1 John 1:1), the great Treasure of our hearts (Luke 12:34), and soon the Heaven of heaven for us forever (Psalm 73:25–26).

Thy Presence My Light

If the ancient author ever titled the poem, that too has been lost to the mists of time. For centuries it was known simply as “A Prayer.” But it’s hard to imagine a better title than the poem’s first four words, “Be thou my vision,” which in Old Gaelic read, “Rop tú mo bhoile.”

Verse 1, in my view, begins just where it should: a prayer for God to enlighten the eyes of our hearts that we may be filled with his hope (Ephesians 1:18). Listen to how beautifully the lyrics convey the biblical metaphor of light as understanding:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art;Thou my best thought, by day or by night;Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Implicitly woven into this verse are the New Testament references of Jesus as “the light of the world” and “the light of life” (John 8:12). But the words also carry an echo of one of my favorite verses from the Psalms:

With you is the fountain of life;     in your light do we see light. (Psalm 36:9)

Everyone who has known deep darkness of any kind — the darkness of sin or grief or pain or depression or loneliness or spiritual oppression — and has seen, however dimly, the Light of life shining in their darkness, understands how meaningful this verse can be. It resonates with the hope that this light will not ultimately be overcome by our darkness.

Be thou my vision, O Lord, for you are the light of my life.

Thou My True Word

The prayer of verse 2 builds on the prayer of verse 1, asking that God would fill us with the riches of his wisdom and knowledge (Romans 11:33):

Be Thou my wisdom, and Thou my true Word;I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;Thou my great Father; I Thy true son;Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Notice how simply this verse expresses the profound and mysterious New Testament teaching that requires pages to unpack in prose: that Christian wisdom comes from the Father and Son (our true Word) dwelling inside us through the Holy Spirit (John 14:23, 26), a gift we receive through our adoption as sons (Ephesians 1:5). The wisdom we’re praying for here is clearly not “a wisdom of this age,” but a wisdom that can only be “spiritually discerned” (1 Corinthians 2:6, 14).

Be thou my wisdom, O Lord, for you are the ultimate Truth.

My Treasure Thou Art

Now we come to my favorite verse of this great hymn, the one most likely to prompt tears:

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise;Thou mine inheritance, now and always;Thou and Thou only first in my heart;High King of heaven, my treasure Thou art.

Verse 3 is my favorite — not because the other verses are less true or less hope-giving or less precious, but because Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Luke 12:34). Our treasure is whatever we love and long for most — what most satisfies, enthralls, and therefore captivates our hearts. And in this fallen age, where even our best love for our great Treasure is defective and lacking, our love is almost always accompanied by a desire to love him more perfectly, more completely. Hence, my tears, a sweet, melancholic mixture of love and longing.

So, I love this verse, the heart of the hymn, the Love Song within the love song. Because God, as the next verse will say, is the Heart of our hearts — the Treasure that makes his light beautiful, his wisdom desirable, and his heaven so heavenly.

Be thou my Treasure, O Lord, first in my heart now and always.

O Bright Heaven’s Sun

Verse 4 ends the hymn just where it should: with the great “blessed hope” of the Christian life (Titus 2:13), when “we will always be with the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:17).

High King of heaven, my victory won,May I reach heaven’s joys, O bright heaven’s Sun;Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,Still be my vision, O Ruler of all.

If our heart is always with our treasure, and if God is our Treasure, then the Heaven of heaven will be the Heart of our heart. And the Sun of heaven will enable us to see more light than we’ve ever seen, “for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb” (Revelation 21:23). And so it will be, always and forever. To which we say, “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

What a priceless gift, this hymn. Thank you, Lord, for that ancient Celtic poet whose God-entranced heart overflowed so eloquently through his quill. And thank you for those throughout history whose collective labors have made this great song of love and longing available to us. And thank you for the gifted Celtic folk musicians whose sweet, haunting melody makes it so wonderful to sing.

But most of all, thank you, Lord, for being the Light of our lives, our ever-present, indwelling Word of life, the great Treasure of our hearts, and someday the Heaven of heaven.

Yes, O Lord, be thou our vision, now in this darkened age, and soon — may it be soon! — in unveiled, eternal glory with unclouded eyes.