Audio Transcript

What should we think of flashy pastors? That’s the question this Monday morning from a listener named Emily. Emily writes in to ask this: “Pastor John, thank you for sharing your wisdom with us all on this podcast. Recently, social media accounts have surfaced and gained quite a bit of attention which show numerous well-known pastors wearing extremely expensive and flashy clothes, shoes, watches, etc. These accounts have raised controversy about whether these leaders are justified in doing this.

“Many say they should be able to use the money they make however they please. Or that these items are gifts. But others are offended by their luxurious lifestyles and argue that regardless of how a pastor obtains these things, they should still be demonstrating humility and reverence toward their congregations and toward those who are struggling to simply survive. Many think their lavish lifestyles discredit Christ. First Peter 3:3 seems to allude to this issue. But I’m curious, what other texts of Scripture speak to this? And where do you stand on it all?”

Well, there’s no question where I sympathize here. My sympathies have been made clear over the years with regard to simplicity and wartime lifestyle. I get angry when I see pastors flaunting their luxury as if it were a compelling testimony that Jesus is more satisfying than what money can buy. Baloney. It’s appalling.

So let me say loud and clear, right off the bat: nobody is drawn to Jesus as the spiritual, saving, satisfying treasure of their souls by the luxurious lifestyle of those who supposedly preach the word — nobody. What people are drawn to in preachers who make much of their luxury is the hope of luxury. That’s what they’re drawn to — the hope of luxury.

Go and Tell

This is not Christianity. Christianity is to be drawn to a crucified and risen Savior whose greatness and beauty and worth in himself are so admirable and so satisfying that the heart cries out with the psalmist in Psalm 63:3, “The steadfast love of the Lord is better than life.” Yes, and everything in this life. You cannot commend the truth that Jesus is better than money by giving the impression that you live for money.

“You cannot commend the truth that Jesus is better than money by giving the impression that you live for money.”

A decisive turn happened in redemptive history with the coming of Jesus that makes it invalid to use the lavish temple of the Old Testament, the priestly robes, the gold-plated utensils, and the lavish curtains as a model for contemporary church buildings or Christian living. It’s invalid. The Old Testament was by and large a come-see religion. The Queen of Sheba was breathless at the wealth of Solomon. But the New Testament is largely a go-tell religion.

Unlike the Old Testament, the Christian church has no temple, no geographic center like Jerusalem, no ethnic identity like Jewishness, no theocentric civil structure that puts people to death for impieties. We are a pilgrim people, exiles and refugees scattered among the nations with the grand mission given by the Lord Jesus to make disciples of all the peoples of the world. And we’re not done with that.

Not All That Glitters

This revolutionizes the way we think about money and use our resources. It all tends toward the simplicity of wartime living, where we strategize to glorify God by finishing the Great Commission and evangelizing our cities and showing love to our neighbors. The New Testament is relentless — it’s just amazing; just read it — in pushing us toward simplicity and economy for the sake of Christ and away from luxury and away from affluence and finery. For example:

Luke 6:20, 24: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. . . . But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.”
Luke 8:14: “They are choked by the cares and riches and pleasures of life.”
Luke 9:58: “The Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”
Luke 12:15: “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”
Matthew 6:19: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth . . . but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven.”
Matthew 6:25: “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?”
Luke 12:31: “Seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you.”
Luke 12:33: “Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail.”
Luke 14:33: “Any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.”
Luke 18:24: “How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!”
James 2:5: “Has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom?”

That’s the refrain over and over and over throughout the whole New Testament, and even in those places — and there are only a few — where wealthy Christians are directly addressed, like 1 Timothy 6:17. The message is to be thankful to God for all of your legitimate enjoyments, and be filled with good deeds for those who have greater need than you.

In other words, there’s just no encouragement anywhere in the New Testament that we should accumulate and accumulate or increase the symbols of our wealth by what we wear, what we drive, and where we live. The man who builds bigger barns for what he doesn’t need is a fool. He’s a fool, Jesus says (Luke 12:20–21). The gist is this: be content with a relatively simple lifestyle. (And I say relatively because I know that virtually all Americans are rich, because the rest of the world — or two-thirds of the world — lives so close to the edge.)

“Be content with a relatively simple lifestyle.”

So, I’m talking about a relatively simple lifestyle. Make as much money as you please, and give what you don’t need for the sake of the glory of Christ and the spread of the gospel and the care of the suffering. Most of the New Testament revolves around three main concerns when it comes to teaching on money: (1) how to display the value of Christ and the gospel, (2) how to meet the needs of the lost and the suffering, and (3) how to avoid the soul-destroying dangers of wealth. So, just a word about each of those.

Treasure in Toil

First, how to display the value of Christ and the gospel. Paul said in Philippians 3:8, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing [value] of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” He wanted to live in such a way as to show that his heart was satisfied with Christ and not captured by the idol of greed. So, he worked with his hands rather than give any impression that he was fleecing the churches. First Thessalonians 2:5 says, “We never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed.” We weren’t using our ministry as a cover-up for our love of money.

To the elders in Ephesus, he said, “I coveted no one’s silver or gold or apparel. You yourselves know that these hands ministered to my necessities and to those who were with me” (Acts 20:33–34). To the Corinthians, he said, “We are not, like so many, peddlers of God’s word” (2 Corinthians 2:17). To Timothy, he said, “If we have food and clothing, with these we will be content” (1 Timothy 6:8). And then he just laid it down for all pastors that they must not be lovers of money (1 Timothy 3:3).

Now the point of all those words was to remove every obstacle to believing the gospel, and to show the superior worth of Christ over all earthly possessions, and to set an example for the believers of self-denial and a happy embrace of sacrifice for the sake of love. Because, as Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). Anybody who’s been walking with Jesus for any amount of time knows you’re going to be happier and sleep better at night the more generous you are — the less selfish you are.

Live to Give

The second main concern of the New Testament and possessions is how to meet the needs of the lost and the suffering. Jesus said, “Sell your possessions, and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail” (Luke 12:33).

Paul said, “Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need” (Ephesians 4:28). Isn’t that amazing? In other words, don’t steal, and don’t just work to have — work to have to give. There are three levels. You can steal, you can work to have, and you can work to have to give. And he says, “Go there, Christians — go there. Live there. Live to give.”

Christians are going to inherit the entire world and everything in it. We could spend a whole session on 1 Corinthians 3:21–23. You have everything, Christian. You don’t need to grasp for it now. You’re going to get it in a vapor’s breath. This little world’s going to be over. The present world is lost without the gospel. Millions are suffering. This is the age for radical generosity and sacrifice, not the age for luxurious living.

Soul Snare

Finally, number three, the last concern with possessions is how to avoid the soul-destroying dangers of wealth. Jesus says it’s hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of God (Luke 18:24). Paul said, “Those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction” (1 Timothy 6:9). Oh, goodness. How clear can Jesus and Paul be about the dangers of accumulation and accumulation?

So, I say it again: it is appalling that those who claim to be faithful ministers of the word of God would flaunt their luxuries — just appalling. It turns Christ from a beautiful, all-satisfying Savior into a broker who gives us what we really want — money and comfort.

Like J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy, John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress is a road trip. It recounts the journey that Christian makes from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, along with the many encounters he has along the way. Technically, Pilgrim’s Progress comes in two parts, the second part narrating the same journey that Christian’s wife, Christiana, and her four boys make. In some notable ways, the second part offers a more balanced portrayal of the Christian journey to heaven.

Almost everyone is acquainted with Pilgrim’s Progress in some way or another because many of the characters — Worldly Wiseman, Pliable, Obstinate, Formalist, Talkative, Giant Despair — and locations — the wilderness of this world, Vanity Fair, By-Path-Meadow, Slough of Despond, Doubting Castle, Delectable Mountains — are used in everyday conversation.

Many, like C.H. Spurgeon, may boast of having read Pilgrim’s Progress many times, but what might a first-time reader expect?

Bible in Every Line

First, Pilgrim’s Progress reveals Bunyan’s belief in the absolute authority of Scripture. Nearly every line reflects a Bible verse or passage. It was Spurgeon who said that if you pricked Bunyan, his blood would be “Bibline.”

A section from the second part displays Bunyan’s esteem for Scripture, as Prudence catechizes young Matthew:

Pru. What do you think of the Bible?Mat. It is the Holy Word of God.Pru. Is there nothing written there but what you understand?Mat. Yes, a great deal.Pru. What do you do when you meet with such places therein that you do not understand?Mat. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be for my good. (Pilgrim’s Progress, 228)

Losing Our Burden

Second, Pilgrim’s Progress includes a strong emphasis on conversion. A long time passes before Christian’s great burden of sin is removed, rolling down the hill and into the tomb. Why does it take Christian so long? Why the prolonged, effortful struggle with sin before finding relief and assurance? Was Bunyan attempting to suggest that this is how all conversions take place? Was he deliberately attacking a form of easy-believism, suggesting that would-be Christians needed to pass through an agonizing struggle before conversion? Bunyan was accused of such after the first edition of Pilgrim’s Progress was published in 1678.

Far from attempting some form of “preparationism” (as some view it today), however, Bunyan was telling his own story. He wrestled with the guilt of sin for several years before he came to assurance. And perhaps it is best to understand what happened when the burden fell from Christian’s shoulders as the moment when Christian was given assurance rather than the moment of his actual conversion. (It is interesting to note, in passing, that in part 2, the conversions of Christiana and the four boys are far less stressful.)

Justification for the Ungodly

Third, Pilgrim’s Progress reveals a firm grasp of substitutionary atonement. At one point, Hopeful (who lived in Vanity Fair but joins Christian following the death of Faithful in the city) is interrogated by Faithful and Christian as to his conversion. Before his death, Faithful tells Hopeful, “Unless I could obtain the Righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the Righteousness of the World could save me.” To which Christian asks, “And did you ask him what man this was, and how you must be justified by him?” This is Hopeful’s answer:

Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus Christ, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High. And thus, said he, you must be justified by him, even by trusting to what he hath done by himself in the days of his Flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the Tree. I asked him further, how that man’s Righteousness could be of that Efficacy, to justify another before God? And he told me, he was the mighty God, and did what he did; and died the Death also, not for himself but for me; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of them should be Imputed if I believed on him. (143)

The story goes on to relate how difficult it was for Hopeful to believe, and how he eventually prayed a “sinner’s prayer”:

God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for I see, if his Righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that Righteousness, I am utterly cast away: Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world. And moreover, thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed); Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy Grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ, Amen. (144)

Hopeful says he prayed this prayer “an hundred times twice told,” until at last, the Father showed him his Son.

I did not see him with my Bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding; and thus it was. One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any time in my life; and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my Sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my Soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus looking down from Heaven upon me, and saying, Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. (145)

We could go on, but this excerpt is sufficient to show the evangelical nature of Bunyan’s doctrine of conversion.

‘He Who Suffers, Conquers’

Fourth, Pilgrim’s Progress places the difficulty of the Christian life center stage. Bunyan knew all about trials. He could recall with the apostle Paul, “Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). Along with a contemporary Puritan preacher, John Geere, Bunyan could have adopted as his life motto vincit qui patitur — “he who suffers,
conquers.”

Bunyan was arrested and imprisoned in 1660 for preaching illegally. He would spend the next twelve years in a prison cell in Bedford, England, and three years following his release, he would be imprisoned again for six months. Pilgrim’s Progress was begun in a prison cell and completed during his second imprisonment. During these years, he suffered bouts of deep anxiety, which one contemporary psychiatrist has labeled “obsessional disorders.”

“No one can read ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ without learning how difficult the Christian life can become.”

No one can read Pilgrim’s Progress without learning how difficult the Christian life can become. The near-suicidal few days that Christian and Faithful spend in the dungeons of Doubting Castle at the hands of Giant Despair and his equally morose wife, and the later battle scene with Apollyon, are some of the most graphic descriptions of trial and tribulation in all literature. And then there is Vanity Fair, where Beelzebub is in charge. It is here that Faithful is martyred.

To prepare Christian for the arduousness of the journey, he is initially taken to the House of Interpreter, where he is shown, among other sights, valiant men armed with swords and protected by a helmet, “cutting and hacking most fiercely” (36). All this reminds us of the portrayal of the Christian soldier in Ephesians 6.

Final River

Fifth, in true Puritan style, Pilgrim’s Progress not only prepares us to live the Christian life; it also prepares us to die the Christian’s death. The account of Hopeful and Christian crossing the river that leads to the Celestial City is among the most moving in the allegory. Surprisingly, Christian is filled with doubts at the last, and several times he sinks beneath the water, only to be rescued by his friend. Hopeful tells Christian,

These troubles and distresses that you go through in these Waters, are no sign that God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses.

And Christian responds,

Oh I see him again; and he tells me, When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the Rivers, they shall not overflow thee. (159)

“‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ not only prepares us to live the Christian life; it also prepares us to die the Christian’s death.”

It has been said of eighteenth-century Methodists that they died well. Bunyan, with his pastoral heart, allowed Christian to waver a little at the end in order that his Christian readers might be given sufficient grace should they, too, waver when their time comes.

The very final paragraph in part 1 is among the most shocking that I have read. When I first read Pilgrim’s Progress, in my teens, I was not prepared for what Bunyan wrote, and I recall crying out loud, “No way!” To recount it here would require a spoiler alert, and my advice to you, if you’re reading it for the first time, is not to be tempted to read the last paragraph until you have read the whole book.

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).