I was once told the story of a child who had been invited to spend a sunny summer day playing with his friends. He lived in a rural area and it took him a good bit of time to make the trek. But the child made his way toward his friends as they made their way toward him and eventually they came upon one another halfway. Soon they were climbing trees and jumping creeks and skipping rocks and generally having the time of their lives.

Around dusk, the boy realized he should begin his return journey. But just as he was about to say his farewells, one of the other lads began to tell a story. The child, once drawn in, couldn’t force himself away. He sat in rapt attention as the story progressed, as the action waxed and waned, as the hero faced peril and emerged victorious.
By the time the story was complete, the sun had dipped behind the distant horizon. Now the boy gazed into the gathering darkness and realized he was afraid to set out by himself. He asked his friends to come with him, but they all needed to return in the opposite direction. As the boy dawdled and tried to work up his courage, the sun’s last rays disappeared from the sky. He fretted about his family, wondering if they were concerned about what had become of him.
The night grew darker still as clouds rolled in and began to blanket the moon and the stars. At last he decided he must stop procrastinating and set out. But just as he stood to his feet, a blinding flash of lightning shot from the sky and it was soon followed by a mighty crack of thunder. His courage failed him altogether.
Yet just as he was about to sink into utter despair, his eye spotted a flicker of light bobbing in the distance. Curious, he watched as it grew closer, as it grew brighter. And, then, to his delight, he saw that it was his older brother come to fetch him, come to bring him home. And now he quickly said farewell to his friends and boldly stepped into the darkness. He confidently made his way toward his brother who then led him safely home—home where his family threw their arms around him, home where a meal had been laid out for him, home where peace and rest awaited him.
And after the storyteller had said all of this, he paused for a moment. He paused to gather his thoughts and consider his words. And then he spoke once more.
So may it be for you when the night of death comes. So may it be for you when your friends cannot accompany you. So may it be for you when you do not dare to go alone.
On that day, your friend who is closer than a brother, your Savior who is your elder brother, will come to meet you at just the right time. In his hand will be the lantern of all the precious promises he has made, and this will be the lamp to your feet and the light to your path. He will lead you through the dark night and into the brightest day. He will accompany you to the place where your family awaits you and longs to see you, the place where a great supper has been laid out for you, the place where God himself is ready to welcome you home. Never, no never, do you need to fear that you will have to go that way alone.

Inspired by De Witt Talmage

No man should become an elder who is not willing to be an elder, and no man should become an elder who is not qualified to be an elder. A man must be willing to take up the task and he must be qualified to do so. A church has no business cajoling a man into service who does not want it and no business affirming a man into service who is not suited for it.
There are surprisingly few men who exist at that point where willingness meets qualification. There are almost always some who are willing but not qualified and some who are qualified but not willing. What the church needs so badly is men who are both.
To those who are willing, I encourage you to consider whether you are qualified or eager to become qualified. The New Testament has much to say about the suitability of the man who would serve as an elder or pastor. It says one thing about his disposition (he must be willing), one thing about his skill (he must be able to teach), and a great many things about his character, for that is the primary basis of his qualification. This is the kind of character that should be present in all Christians but must be present in leaders. Leaders are meant to be exemplars of it.
I and many others have written about this subject at length, so would encourage you to read my series on The Character of the Christian or, perhaps even better, to read The Path to Being a Pastor or Biblical Eldership. In one way or another, match your willingness with your character. Not every man can or should be an elder, but every man can and should aspire to have the character of an elder, for this is simply the character of Christ. If you are already willing, then strive to become qualified.
To those who are qualified, I would ask you to consider or reconsider your willingness. Is it not of concern that nearly every church would benefit from having more elders, yet nearly every church has men who are not willing even if they are otherwise qualified? I know many men are certain they lack the time and I am sympathetic to that. Not every season of life lends itself to further responsibilities within the local church, least of all the responsibility of caring for souls. By all means, do not become an elder if it would be unwise to take on the office or impossible to fulfill the obligations that come with it.
There are surprisingly few men who exist at the point where willingness meets qualification.Share
But perhaps it would be worth considering that the other elders in your church have more no time than you do. God does not give them 25 hours in a day or eight days in a week. Rather, they have probably chosen to set aside some of the things they would find pleasurable or relaxing and have done so for the sake of love and for the sake of serving God by serving you, your family, and your local church. If you are qualified, why not strive to become willing?
There are surprisingly few men who exist at the point where willingness meets qualification. And so I ask every man to consider both his desires and his suitability. Consider why you are unwilling and ask God to make you willing if that is his will for you. Consider your suitability and ask God to help you grow in godly character. Consider the need for men who are both willing and qualified, consider the dearth of leaders in the local church, and ask if you may be part of God’s plan to address it.

Men of great physical strength have sometimes carried outrageously heavy burdens—six hundred pounds, seven hundred pounds, eight hundred. And even then they have said, “I still have not been fully tested. Put on some more weight! Load me up!” With confidence they have gripped the bar and with great straining and groaning they have lifted it clear of the ground. Yet in every case, they have eventually reached a point where they have had to cry out, “Stop! I have hit my limit. I cannot carry any more weight.”
I wonder if you have ever considered that the burden Christ carried for us was without limit. Have you considered the tremendous weight he bore on Calvary?
There was his own burden of hunger and thirst and bereavement, and the burden of the thousand insults and outrages that had been heaped upon him. On top of that was the burden of seeing the sorrows of his mother and friends as they watched him suffer and struggle for breath. On top of even that was the burden of witnessing the crimes of the soldiers who were putting him to death and the mocking of the criminals who hung beside him.
Even as we consider this our hearts begin to cry, “Stop! Surely he cannot bear anymore.”
Yet Christ says, “Add more. Add to me the sins of the people of Israel as they turned and rebelled and chased after false gods. After that, add to me all the sins of all the earth that are being committed at this very moment and then heap on all the sins of the history of humanity to this day—all the sins of all those who are mine. Give me Moses’ rebellion and David’s adultery and Solomon’s philandering. Give me Adam’s complaining and Jacob’s obstinacy and Samson’s lust.”
The angels of heaven seem to shout, “Stop! Surely he has reached his limit!”
But again he speaks to say, “Burden me more! Add to me the weight of all the sins of the next two thousand years, add to me all the sins of all the ages that will follow. Load on the guilt of the blasphemer, the perjurer, the murderer, the adulterer, then the shame of the thief, the gossip, the hater, the idler. Give me the sins of omission and commission, the spontaneous sins and the carefully planned, the sins that were done and the good that was left undone. Give it to me. Give it all to me until not a single one remains. Give until there is no more left to give.”
The earth seems to tremble as he speaks yet again. “Now give me the sorrows, give me the losses, give me the broken hearts. Give me creation itself as it groans under the weight of what humanity has done, of what they have wrought. Heap it on, for I have room left to carry it, I have strength left to bear it.”
Men and angels alike pause in wonder at Christ receiving without grumbling, accepting without complaining, and bearing without limitShare
No wonder, then, that the sun is blotted from the sky, that darkness falls over the land. And as the light fades, men and angels alike pause in wonder at Christ receiving without grumbling, accepting without complaining, and bearing without limit—bearing it until at last it is lifted by the only One who has the right to do so.
And maybe this is just the smallest glimpse at what Isaiah meant when he said, “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows…” (Isaiah 53:4)
Inspired by De Witt Talmage