Prayer, as Calvin puts it, is our chief expression of faith. Prayer is how faith is manifested and expressed. If you don’t believe there is a God or that you need God, then you don’t pray. But if you do believe there is a God who hears, if you believe that you need Him, then the way you express that belief is through prayer.

So far in this series on pastoral character, we’ve considered the role of the pastor’s piety and the pastor’s holiness upon his ministry. Those articles have largely been cautionary, warning pastors against the particular temptations that come in ministry. But what should a pastor cultivate positively in order to grow in pastoral character? Spurgeon’s first answer would likely be the importance of cultivating communion with Christ, expressed in the pastor’s private prayer.
The Problem: Ministerialism
One of the greatest dangers that the minister faces is the danger of what Spurgeon calls formalism or officialism or ministerialism. Listen to his description:
The worst [snare a minister can face] is the temptation to ministerialism — the tendency to read our Bibles as ministers, to pray as ministers, to get into doing the whole of our religion as not ourselves personally, but only relatively concerned in it. To lose the personality of repentance and faith is a loss indeed…
I hate ministerialism, yet I often find it creeping upon me. One gets inside a pulpit, and begins to feel that he is not as other men are; but I like, if I can, to preach as a sinner to sinners; as one saved by grace to tell the love which Christ had towards me, the chief of sinners, and “less than the least of all saints.” I do not doubt that, as soon as you get out your little book to take with you, you feel like a missionary, and not simply like a sinner saved by grace. But, I pray you, do not feel like a missionary; feel like a sinner who has been washed in the precious blood of Jesus. You will never do good if you go to your work simply because of your office, [rather than] because of your soul being in it, because your heart yearns toward sinners, because you must have them saved. Strive not against any habits that are good; but against that evil tendency which, somehow or other, Satan, who is exceedingly crafty, manages to cast over our very best habits.
In other words, even as we pursue holiness and fight sin, we have to keep the gospel central. We have to cultivate a deep awareness and sorrow over our personal sin and the temptations of our hearts. We have to live in dependence on God’s grace in Christ. And then we speak as sinners saved by grace. This is how our holiness becomes warm and attractive.
Apart from our own personal grasp of the gospel, all our efforts at piety and holiness will become a stumbling block to our own sanctification and ministry. The strange thing is that people don’t always notice ministerialism in their pastor. The unspiritual people in the congregation won’t mind that their pastor doesn’t demonstrate any spiritual life before them. Even while the minister is just keeping up appearances, a church can have a growing budget and the congregation can be entertained. But in the end, as far as the pastor is concerned, it’s all external rituals and no spiritual life.
Spurgeon describes one such situation:
I read the other day, that no phase of evil presented so marvelous a power for destruction, as the unconverted minister of a parish, with a £1200 organ, a choir of ungodly singers, and an aristocratic congregation. It was the opinion of the writer, that there could be no greater instrument for damnation out of hell than that. People go to their place of worship and sit down comfortably, and think they must be Christians, when all the time all that their religion consists in, is listening to an orator, having their ears tickled with music, and perhaps their eyes amused with graceful action and fashionable manners; the whole being no better than what they hear and see at the opera — not so good, perhaps, in point of aesthetic beauty, and not an atom more spiritual. Thousands are congratulating themselves, and even blessing God that they are devout worshippers, when at the same time they are living in an unregenerate Christless state, having the form of godliness, but denying the power thereof. He who presides over a system which aims at nothing higher than formalism, is far more a servant of the devil than a minister of God.
May such words never be said of our ministries.
The Answer: Private Prayer
So what’s the solution? How do we fight against formalism? We fight by cultivating our private prayer lives, our communion with God. And Spurgeon particularly emphasizes prayer… Not just Bible reading, but prayer, i.e. communion with Christ.
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According to Christ, every word will be judged, which reveals that there will be a greater condemnation for some people than for others. In Luke 12:47-48, Jesus contrasts two servants who were given a command to follow, and one received a “severe beating” while another received a “light beating.” This too illustrates a difference in punishment that will be issued at the return of Christ.

The doctrine of hell is one that is often neglected or avoided simply because of the weightiness and darkness of the subject. However, it’s critically important that Christians speak about hell in the way that the biblical text speaks about hell. Our doctrinal positions should be formed on the basis of Scripture rather than our feelings about a specific subject. Is your doctrine of hell different than Jesus’ doctrine of hell?
What Did Jesus Teach About Hell?
In Jesus’ earthly ministry, he preached many sermons and taught on various subjects which are visibly evident in his most famous sermon known as “The Sermon on the Mount.” The preaching of Jesus was not exactly light. As the Prophet greater than Moses, Jesus thundered the truth of the Kingdom of God including heaven and the judgment of God in “the hell of fire” (Matt 5:22). Jesus pointed to the certainty of both heaven and hell. Jesus likewise spoke of the eternality of both heaven and hell (Matt 25:46).
The Lord Jesus himself frequently described hell as a place of righteous judgment upon rebels and lawbreakers. We see evidence of Jesus’ doctrine of hell in multiple passages (Matt 5:22; 8:12; 10:28; 13:42; 24:51; 23:33; 25:30; Mark 9:43–48; Luke 13:28). In these texts, we see weighty language of wrath, retribution, and punishment that point to the holy vengeance of a sovereign God who must judge sinners.
In Jesus’ parable in Luke 16 regarding the rich man and Lazarus, the doctrine of divine judgment in hell is illustrated vividly as the rich man immediately drops into the abyss of hell after his death. In the flames of hell, the rich man requests a drop of water to cool his tongue, because he states that he was in “anguish” in the flames of judgment (Luke 16:24). In contrast, Jesus points to the fact that the poor man (Lazarus) was in complete comfort in the presence of Abraham (Luke 16:25). The presence of Abraham was a means of illustrating a place of blessing since the Jews idolized Abraham as their Jewish hero. The parable points to the severity of the divine vengeance of God.
When we examine Jesus’ parables and his preaching on the doctrine of hell, it’s clear that he intentionally employed key words to underscore the severity of hell.
Fire: Jesus often used the imagery of fire to illustrate the punishment awaiting the unrepentant. In Matthew 25:41 we find these words by Jesus, “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels’” (ESV).
Outer Darkness: This term highlights the separation from God’s presence and the despair associated with eternal punishment. In Matthew 8:12, Jesus said, “while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (ESV).
Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth: This is descriptive language indicating the anguish and regret of those facing judgment. In Matthew 13:42, Jesus  warned that those who experience the final judgment of God will be thrown “into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (ESV).
Degrees of Punishment
The Bible teaches that hell will be more severe for some people than for others. While all unbelievers who die outside of the grace of God will experience the wrath of God for eternity in hell, we must recognize the clear teachings of Scripture that point to varying degrees of punishment in hell.
In Luke 10 and Matthew 11, a parallel passage is found in both Gospels that points to the reality of different degrees of punishment in hell. It may come as a surprise to some people, but Jesus actually taught that hell would be more severe for those who lived in cities like Capernaum than for those who lived in the wicked city of Sodom. Notice the words of Jesus from Matthew 11:
“Woe to you Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I tell you, it will be more bearable on the day of judgment for Tyre and Sidon than for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven? You will be brought down to Hades. For if the mighty works done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I tell you that it will be more tolerable on the day of judgment for the land of Sodom than for you.”1
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The self-sufficiency of God has huge implications for our understanding of worship. When we gather on a Sunday, who is gaining? Not God, but us. We don’t come because he needs us but because we need him. We come ultimately not to give but to gain. How else could needy, dependent sinners approach the God of all life?

Most Christians will admit there are Sunday mornings when they awaken and wonder whether it’s even worth getting out of bed. Surely God doesn’t need our worship? We’re not serving on the set up team this week. No one will notice if we’re not there. We can perhaps read the Bible ourselves a bit later, pray from the comfort of the couch, pop on some Christian music over coffee. So why bother with corporate worship?
The answer is found not so much by searching the Scriptures for commands to gather—though those commands are certainly there. Rather, we need to look at the God who calls us to worship. I didn’t marry my wife because someone explained the duties and responsibilities of a husband—though those responsibilities are clearly presented in the Bible. No, I met, got to know, and fell in love with Georgina. So we’ll focus on just two truths about God that help us to understand why we worship and what blessings come as a result.
The God Who Deserves Everything
Creatures are made to worship their Creator. When anyone, be they human or angel, turns to think about who God is and what he’s done, the right response is worship.
Unlike bleary- eyed Christians on a Sunday morning, those already in heaven see God clearly and react instinctively to encountering him. To give just one example, in Revelation 4 we meet four strange creatures who live before the throne of God. What do they spend their lives doing? “Day and night they never cease to say, ‘Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!’” (Rev. 4:8). These heavenly beings spend every moment in worship: it’s as if it never occurs to them to do anything else. Here they praise God for who he is. He is holy, he is all-powerful, he is eternal. Seeing God’s character and attributes leads to an outburst of praise.
It’s the same when the twenty-four elders, perhaps symbolic of the redeemed people of God, respond to the creatures’ song: “Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created” (Rev. 4:11). This time the focus is not so much on who God is but on what he has done: he has created all things and sustains them moment by moment. Regularly in Scripture, worship emerges from a worshipper’s reflections on the wonderful deeds of God. The Psalms are full of this pattern. Take Psalm 147, which begins with the classic exhortation “Praise the Lord!” The whole psalm then piles up reasons to praise him.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem;he gathers the outcasts of Israel.He heals the brokenheartedand binds up their wounds.He determines the number of the stars;he gives to all of them their names. (Ps. 147:2–4)
As the psalmist reflects on God’s kindness to his people—his building of the church and his willingness to deal tenderly with the brokenhearted, even as he is also the one who flung stars into space—he can’t help but worship.
In the New Testament era, it’s no different. As we return to the heavenly throne room, we meet the elders and creatures who are combining their voices to praise Jesus for all he’s done: “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” (Rev. 5:12).
We could multiply examples almost endlessly. Worship ultimately is what we do when we draw near to God. It is his due. Everything we are and have comes from him, so it’s right that we respond in humble thanks and praise.
The Joy of Worship
But we mustn’t think this is mere duty, the kind of reverence shown by terrified citizens who are called to bow before the image of a despotic dictator. Rather, to worship God is our greatest privilege and joy. Perhaps the most famous lines ever to come from a Presbyterian pen are the question and answer that open the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “What is the chief end of man? Man’s chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Glorifying God is not a separate activity from enjoying him forever. Notice the question isn’t “What are the two chief ends of man?” but what is our one, singular “end” or purpose. Incredible though it may seem, God has created us for joy—to share with us the greatest gift he could give: himself. And the way we experience that delight is by worshipping him. This is why the Psalms are so full of joy.
In your presence there is fullness of joy;at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. (Ps. 16:11)
Then I will go to the altar of God,to God my exceeding joy,and I will praise you with the lyre,O God, my God. (Ps. 43:4)
With joy and gladness they are led alongas they enter the palace of the king. (Ps. 45:15)
Worship is not just a duty but a delight. We are built to worship, to give ourselves in wonder to something—or rather Someone—who is awesome and worthy. In fact, in the Bible’s understanding everyone is a worshipper. The question isn’t whether we’ll worship but who we’ll worship. In Romans 1, Paul’s critique of humanity isn’t that they stopped worshipping but rather that “they exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator” (Rom. 1:25). Stop worshipping God and we’ll start worshipping something else. To put it another way, every human being on earth will be worshipping next Sunday morning. The only question is who or what they’ll worship: the triune God or Allah, Baal, comfort, golf, family, or any of the thousands of other idols we give ourselves to. And from what we’ve seen already, this switch is not just evil but foolish. It’s to swap pure spring water for filthy sewage, a king’s banquet for rat poison and arsenic.
God deserves everything; he deserves all our worship.
The God Who Needs Nothing
So we worship God because he deserves everything, and in that worship we know the blessing of joy and wonder as we meet him. But there’s another truth about God that at first sight might seem strange but that turns out to be a tremendous encouragement as Sunday morning rolls around. That strangely good news is that God doesn’t need us. More than that, in fact: God doesn’t need anything.
This is sometimes known as God’s self-sufficiency or independence. It emerges from the first verse of the Bible, where we learn that God created the heavens and earth. The sky, the stars, the earth we stand on: it all depends on God, the uncreated one, for its existence. Human beings rely on fuel to run; we need water, air, and food to sustain us. God, however, needs nothing. He is entirely self-existent. That’s why he reveals himself to Moses at the burning bush as “I am” (Ex. 3:14). Though the fire (which represents God) is in the bush, the bush isn’t actually burning—the fire needs no fuel.
Because God made all things and owns all things and is himself dependent on nothing, it’s ultimately impossible for anyone to really give anything to him—at least in the sense of giving so he genuinely gains from it. Paul makes exactly this point.
“Or who has given a gift to himthat he might be repaid?”
For from him and through him and to him are all things.To him be glory forever. Amen. (Rom. 11:35–36)
The answer to Paul’s question is clearly “No one.” No one has ever given anything to God, putting God in their debt. Why not? Because everything came from him, exists because of him, and is made for him. What could you give him that isn’t his already? What can you add to benefit an all-knowing, all-powerful, eternally happy God?
The self-sufficiency of God has huge implications for our understanding of worship. When we gather on a Sunday, who is gaining? Not God, but us. We don’t come because he needs us but because we need him. We come ultimately not to give but to gain. How else could needy, dependent sinners approach the God of all life? As Paul writes to the Athenians,
The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. (Acts 17:24–25)
This truth about God helps to shed even more light on the worship service in heaven we saw earlier. There we heard that God was worthy to receive “glory and honor and power” (Rev. 4:11). But what does it mean for God to “receive” glory from his people? The self-sufficiency of God shows us that it can’t mean God is actually becoming more glorious. His glory is already infinite! Likewise, as he is praised, he doesn’t become more powerful. Rather, the elders’ song declares that all the praise, all the honor, all the power used by creatures in worship ought to be directed solely to God. It is right that we worship him with all that we are and all that we have—in that sense we give him glory. But as we do so, he isn’t gaining; incredibly, we are.
C. S. Lewis gives a good illustration of this principle, which is worth quoting at length.
Every faculty you have, your power of thinking or of moving your limbs from moment to moment, is given you by God. If you devoted every moment of your whole life exclusively to His service you could not give Him anything that was not in a sense His own already. So that when we talk of a man doing anything for God or giving anything to God, I will tell you what it is really like. It is like a small child going to [his or her] father and saying, “Daddy, give me sixpence to buy you a birthday present.” Of course, the father does, and he is pleased with the child’s present. It is all very nice and proper, but only an idiot would think that the father is sixpence to the good on the transaction.1
When we sing to God, pray to him, and give of our money, he remains sixpence none the richer. But we, doing what we were created for, are immeasurably blessed. The glory is his, the gain ours.
This chapter is an excerpt from Reformed Worship by Jonty Rhodes; it is a new release and is used with permission from P&R Publishers.
1 C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (London, UK: HarperCollins, 2002), 143.
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