There you sit at the elder meeting. Some disagreement again surfaces.

Maybe you disagree about a potential elder candidate. He’s a good friend of one brother. But to you, he doesn’t seem sober-minded. You don’t think he’ll add to the team, but detract. He seems more like a liability than a blessing.

Perhaps you disagree about a troubled marriage. One pastor thinks the wife is mature and has been long-suffering with the husband, who is largely to blame; another pastor thinks the wife has come to imbibe an unbelieving perspective and is angling to be free from her marriage vows.

Perhaps it’s a doctrinal or exegetical disagreement. Let’s say female deacons. You’re on a counsel of eight. The other seven brothers have expressed openness to female deacons, and you’re the one that doesn’t see it in 1 Timothy 3. You think gunaikas there is deacon wives, not women deacons.

Or you disagree about priorities. How often should we inform the church about the latest pro-abortion legislative disaster in our state? How often do we call our people to prayer and some kind of action?

Or maybe it just seems to be the same brother all the time. Clearly the algorithms have the two of you on different feeds. Whatever the causes, you’ve been pulled into different ecosystems of digital influence. You wonder how much of this has been conditioned through these devices.

Our focus in this session is on seeking unity among pastor-elders. That is, unity in the lead or teaching office of the church, variously called pastor, elder, and overseer in the New Testament — three names for one office, the lead office (with deacon being the name of the assisting office). Our task in this session is handling disagreements among pastor-elders.

First, I’d like to make some preliminary assumptions explicit, and then give some practical counsel and reasons for hope.

Preliminary Assumptions

Now, a preliminary word about these “preliminary assumptions.” These actually may be the most important part. Many of the most important factors related to disagreements among pastors begin long before the specific disagreements emerge. I will try to speak to working for unity amidst disagreement, but I suspect the best working for unity happens before disagreement.

1. Church leadership is teamwork.

Even in rural settings, where the idea of a team of pastors may seem unrealistic, we still have the New Testament’s stubborn ideal of plurality. Twice Peter addresses the plural elders in 1 Peter 5:1–5; local church elders are plural in Acts (Acts 14:23; 20:17); so too in the Pastoral Epistles (1 Timothy 4:14; 5:17; Titus 1:5), and in James 5:14. In fact, every instance of local-church leadership in the New Testament implies plurality.

If I could give you a four-part summary of the New Testament vision for church leadership, it would have team at the heart of it: “local teams of sober-minded teachers.” Four parts: locality, acuity, didacity, and plurality.

“Our churches not only need good men as pastors; they need good men who are good friends.”

But not only plurality. The hope is not just that pastor-elder teams would be plural, but that pastor-elders would like each other, enjoy each other — that they would be friends, not rivals. Maybe “team of rivals” worked in Lincoln’s cabinet. But none of us is Lincoln, and besides, the local church is not the Lincoln administration. My experience has been that friendship, love, genuine affection among elders is not icing on the cake for good eldering. This is part of the cake. Our churches not only need good men as pastors; they need good men who are good friends.

Oh, “how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!” (Psalm 133:1). That is, not just put up with each other, but actually enjoy each other, and look forward to being together, rather than dread it. Whether the pastor-elders enjoy their fellowship will soon affect the church. And it will profoundly affect how we work for unity in the midst of the disagreements that will inevitably come.

If fact, related to working for unity, my counsel would be to always be working for unity through friendship, through investing in team dynamics, long before disagreements arise. Work for unity ahead of time, and seek to have such settled, stable unity, that when disagreements do arise, your unity isn’t soon called into question. Then you can give your focus to actually working through the issue, rather than working for unity prematurely.

And get this: when the relationships are strong and enjoyable among elders, you’re not so nervous about conflict and avoiding certain issues. Rather, you’re free to mine for conflict — to ask about it and talk about it long before it becomes an elephant in the room. You read a frustrated look on a brother’s face and ask him to say more, rather than barreling forward to get your preference in the moment. Your relationship is stable enough to try to surface potential disagreements early, rather than avoiding them and letting them fester.

So, church leadership is teamwork — and best done by friends, not rivals.

2. Good teams guard the gate.

That is, they are careful whom they add to the team. They don’t rush the process. They aren’t “hasty in the laying on of hands” (1 Timothy 5:22). So, we ask all sorts of questions up front. Ask about theology and theological hobbyhorses. Work carefully through the elder qualifications (take them seriously!). And ask each other, Do we think this man fits with the shared instincts of our team? Will he be a good teammate? Does he seem to have our chemistry? Or, how will he affect our team’s chemistry?

Remember, this is not “team of rivals.” There are plenty of issues in life and ministry to disagree about, in big and small degrees. Inevitably, some differing instincts reside in your team. They are there, and they will come. After a while together, you’ll be able to plot on a line who’s the most knee-jerk conservative, who’s most compassionate, who’s most hopeful about the world and culture. Those differences of instinct that make a team healthy and effective will emerge soon enough. But don’t try to staff for difference. Difference will be there and arise. Staff for chemistry. Try to build a team of friends who like each other and have significant shared instincts and genuinely want to spend time together, and so come to enjoy the often burdensome work of teaching and caring well for the church together.

At the gate, be clear about what you have in writing. What, if anything, beyond Scripture does your elder team commit to? Do the leaders subscribe to any confession beyond the membership covenant? Is there a pastors’ covenant? Any agreed-upon documents on ministry philosophy? I’d encourage you to have some things in writing (though not too much). Know what it is, and use it.

3. Unity does not require unanimity.

I’ve heard of elder boards who insist on unanimity in their decisions. I don’t think that’s necessary (or good). We need to be wise and patient regarding particular situations. If it’s a huge initiative in the church — say, a capital campaign — you might want to press for unanimity, or very close to it, not mere consensus. And in major decisions like that, don’t rush the process. And for lead pastors, I say don’t bring a fully formulated proposal to the team. Take the initiative. Point in a direction. Give time to think it over carefully. Ask all the brothers to speak in and develop ownership in the process. Give space for that. Mine for hesitations and conflict. Seek to refine the proposal. On major initiatives, do your best to rally the whole team together.

But on other items, it’s simply not worth all the work to get to unanimity, and not necessary. One or two guys have a different opinion, but you have a clear consensus in the team. The decision needs to be made tonight, and so you move forward.

So, that’s one disclaimer on the idea of working for unity. Most things do not need unanimity.

Another disclaimer on working for unity is that true Christian unity is not something we first produce, and definitely not in a moment, but a grace we receive and then maintain and protect, even as we grow and deepen it. Consider Ephesians 4:1–3:

Walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

In Christ, we don’t produce our unity. The Spirit gives it. Once we are in Christ, we have in common with others who are in Christ the most important realities in the universe. Unity, then, is what we seek to maintain.

Yet also there is a sense in which it is attained. Ephesians 4:12–13: Pastors “equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood.” The Spirit gives it; we maintain it, even as we pastors lead the church in attaining the unity of full maturity.

“We are prone to move too fast or not at all. Moving forward with patience is most difficult, and most rewarding.”

In Philippians, Paul is writing to a church with some newly emerging unity issues. He wants them to “[be] of the same mind, [have] the same love, [be] in full accord and of one mind” (Philippians 2:2). He hopes to hear of them that they “are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel” (Philippians 1:27). How, then, might that happen? How might they practically seek to maintain their unity in Christ and together attain the unity of maturity? Philippians 2:3–4 (this text might be the single most important one on pursuing unity):

Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.

(First Peter 3:8 mentions a similar cluster of virtues with “unity of mind”: “All of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind.”)

4. Different kinds of disagreement lead to different courses of action.

First, some disagreements on small or silly matters are overlooked by wise, peaceable, magnanimous men.

In 2 Timothy 2, before Paul gives Timothy some of the most pointed words in Scripture on how to deal with conflict, first he says in 2 Timothy 2:23, “Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels.” And 1 Timothy 6:4–5 warns us about

an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions, and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth.

Brothers, “not quarrelsome” is an elder qualification (1 Timothy 3:3).

It’s long been a live issue, but in recent years, online life has thrown gas on the fire. Brothers, you don’t always have to have an opinion. And you don’t have to express your opinion. (This is a particular temptation for word guys like us; words come so easy for some of us pastors.) Don’t let foolish, distant, impractical quarrels divide your pastoral team and ruin your trust with your own people.

Second, some disagreements are on clearly defined matters, like doctrine.

In Acts 20:29–30, Paul warns the Ephesian elders that wolves will rise up from within their own team:

I know that after my departure fierce wolves will come in among you, not sparing the flock; and from among your own selves will arise men speaking twisted things, to draw away the disciples after them.

God made the souls of men in particular to rise to the unpleasant and essential work of protecting the flock from wolves, with its emotional and physical costs. (As an aside, the threat of false teaching, and the necessity of pastors protecting the sheep from wolves, may show plainest of all God’s building of men for the pastorate. God made men to be conditioned for this calling.) And of course, the worst of this is when such errors, doctrinally or ethically, arise “from among your own selves,” from within the team.

Brian Tabb recently wrote in Themelios under the title “On Disagreements in Ministry.” I’d recommend it. He says there,

Christian workers are sometimes morally obligated to separate when matters of essential biblical doctrine and practice are at stake. Some separations and divisions between professing believers are necessary to distinguish true faith and morality from counterfeit Christianity. For example, Paul exhorts, “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers” (2 Cor 6:14), and he explains that “there must . . . be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized” (1 Cor 11:19). Likewise, John asserts, “They went out from us, but they were not of us” (1 John 2:19), and he warns against partnering with or receiving any teacher who “does not abide in the teaching of Christ . . . for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works” (2 John 9–11). It takes biblical wisdom, humility, and courage to practice “theological triage” and discern between those hills that are worth dying on, on the one hand, and matters where fellow believers may agree to disagree, on the other.

And even when you find yourself in such a conflict, remember the rest of Paul’s counsel in 2 Timothy 2:24–25:

The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness.

Third, some of the most difficult are gray-area disagreements.

These are issues that matter but are not easily settled by texts of Scripture or shared statements of faith. One classic example is Paul and Barnabas disagreeing about John Mark and separating over their difference in assessment. This is Acts 15:36–41:

After some days Paul said to Barnabas, “Let us return and visit the brothers in every city where we proclaimed the word of the Lord, and see how they are.” [So they’re agreed!] Now Barnabas wanted to take with them John called Mark. But Paul thought best not to take with them one who had withdrawn from them in Pamphylia and had not gone with them to the work. And there arose a sharp disagreement, so that they separated from each other. Barnabas took Mark with him and sailed away to Cyprus, but Paul chose Silas and departed, having been commended by the brothers to the grace of the Lord. And he went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches.

In another Themelios essay, Don Carson refers to “differences in vision and priorities. . . . Is it a case of a Barnabas and a Paul unable to reach an amicable agreement on a pastoral issue where both sides feel strongly and can marshal compelling arguments?”

Again, pastor-elders are to be men who are not quarrelsome, but peaceable. And peacemaking is very different from conflict-aversion. To be a peacemaker, one must be willing to engage in and endure conflict, and do so with Christian speech and conduct, but not as an end — rather, aiming for the restoration of peace on the far side.

Which leads us to the practical counsel (after all those preliminary assumptions!).

Practical Counsel

What more might we say about the Paul-and-Barnabas type of disagreement? I’m not here dealing with disagreements on clearly defined matters, or disagreements on trivia, or foolish quarrels insighted by the Internet, but real-life gray-area disagreements between brothers on the same pastor-elder team — and that from my limited perspective (fifteen years as an elder).

When the situation arises, when disagreement emerges that feels significant enough that it draws your attention as a disagreement, here are six counsels (among many others, I’m sure).

1. Rehearse what you share in common.

Hopefully you’ve been working for unity ahead of time: fostering relationships with each other; cultivating affection for each other; keeping short accounts; mining for conflict, rather than letting it fester underground until it erupts through the surface. Remember what you share in common as redeemed sinners, indwelt by the Spirit, caring for the good of this church. Consider how much doctrine and philosophy of ministry you share. And pause to cherish it afresh.

2. Query the disagreement in three dimensions.

In abiding disagreements, query (1) your own soul, (2) God’s word, and (3) the counsel of others.

When trying to discern between controversies to avoid and conflicts to engage with courage, you might query your own soul like this:

Is this about me — my ego, my preference, my threatened illusion of control — or is this relevant to Jesus, his gospel, his church? Am I remembering that my greatest potential enemy here is not others, and not even Satan, but my own indwelling sin?
What is the tenor of my ministry? Is it one fight after another? Are there seasons of peace? Am I engaging in conflict as an end in itself, or is preserving and securing Christian peace clearly the goal?
Am I going with or against my flesh, which inclines me to fight when I shouldn’t, and to back down when I should kindly, patiently, gently fight? As the “servant” of the Lord, not self, am I avoiding petty causes that an unholy part of me wants to pursue, while taking on the difficult, painful, and righteous causes that an unholy part of me wants to flee?
Am I simply angry at my opponents, desiring to show them up or expose them, or am I sad for them — better yet, compassionate for them — genuinely praying that God would free them from deception and grant them repentance? Am I more inclined to anger against them or tears for them?

Also, you might want to revisit the elder qualifications afresh related to how you are engaging the disagreement. Which of the essential pastoral virtues are live challenges or come into fresh light in the conflict? Ask, Which single attribute do I need the most help with in this brewing conflict?

3. Carefully ask others for perspective and counsel.

I say “carefully” meaning (1) not to violate confidentiality and (2) not to rally support. You are asking for counsel for you — what you might do, how you might grow and change — not simply for a verdict from a buddy that you’re in the right. You could ask others in the room, fellow elders. Or carefully ask for outside perspective — again with the goal of receiving counsel for how you can be a means of grace, how you might wisely humble yourself and faithfully navigate the situation.

4. Look for objective cues and clarity to go on.

Good decisions are not ex nihilo but “sub-creation” with various givens. You need some objective grist to work with. Perhaps the confusion and disagreement stems from awareness, or lack thereof, of objective givens related to the situation. Rehearse what you know for sure and is not speculation. One way to move toward agreement is to get more of simply a clear given on the table.

5 Give it more time (without negligence).

Related to looking for objectives, you may be stuck because you need more data, another given, another data point, to lead and guide — which might mean you are not yet to a wise point to make the decision. Resist the pressure to make decisions prematurely. Giving it more time means patience, not neglect. This is like untying knots on our kid’s ice skates or untangling a necklace: we are prone to move too fast or not at all. Moving forward with patience is most difficult, and most rewarding.

Also, related to time, if you do begin to discern you’re at an impasse, be careful not to part too quickly. But also don’t stay stuck in an impasse when both sides are really entrenched. From here, there likely is one party that, given the situation, and in hopes of the health of the church, should stand down. Humbly assess if you’re the one who should stand down.

6. Ask afresh how Scripture speaks to the issue.

You might be able to get to this right away, but with a gray-area or jagged-line disagreement, you may simply come across surprising insights as you continue reading, meditating on, and sitting under God’s word. So, the deliberate passage of time may shed new light on the issue, which is why I’ve put revisiting Scripture here at the end, rather than first in the list.

As time passes, you have the opportunity to keep meditating on Scripture every day. It’s amazing what clarity you might get on an issue and what discoveries of biblical wisdom you might gain over the course of a year, say, if it remains with you while you read the whole Bible through. You might start seeing connections you had not previously seen as new issues are raised and become personal through the presenting disagreement. There can be wisdom in letting disagreements pass through a few seasons of the year (especially through winter and seasonally affected places like Minnesota). And other than 1 Timothy 3, Titus 1, and 2 Timothy 2:23–26, another particular passage to meditate on for disagreement is James 3:13–18:

Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

Every Conflict an Opportunity

Many disagreements will lessen, if not resolve, as you proceed patiently, query the Scriptures, query the situation, audit your own soul, and solicit perspective (and exhortation) from wise counselors. But some disagreements prove intractable. As you discuss and keep revisiting the issue, you seem to be getting further and further apart, not coming together. Some disagreements you may be able to live with. For others, it may be a matter of time before some parting will happen, like Paul and Barnabas.

“Disagreement is a chance for deeper harmony, greater friendship, wiser elder actions, and healthier churches.”

And when that happens, my counsel would be walk humbly and carefully as to who leaves and who stays. If the elder board is split ten to one, and deeply entrenched, it’s the one who needs to leave. Navigating a righteous departure demands great wisdom and perhaps even more energy in working for unity.

Let’s close with this hope: in Scripture, conflict is an amazing opportunity for God’s grace. Disagreement is a chance for deeper harmony in the end, greater friendship, wiser elder actions, and healthier churches.

We don’t know any more about Paul and John Mark from Acts. But we do see in Paul’s letters that they ministered together later on. And even this, from the last chapter of Paul’s last letter:

Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. (2 Timothy 4:11)

May God give us such hope, and such reunions, even in this life — and even more, even better, together in the one to come.

ABSTRACT: Letter writing during the New Testament era involved several steps and included more people than is often assumed. Before authors like Paul composed letters to Christian communities, they first needed to acquire information about the situation facing their readers. During the composition of their writings, the apostles commonly collaborated with their companions and worked directly with a secretary. Once the author was satisfied with the letter, one or more people were entrusted to deliver it to the intended recipients. Finally, in some cases, letter carriers returned with a report about the writing’s reception and recent developments in the community.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Benjamin P. Laird (PhD, University of Aberdeen), associate professor of biblical studies at the School of Divinity at Liberty University, to explain the process of New Testament letter writing.

The letters contained in the New Testament are among the most studied, quoted, and discussed writings in the biblical canon, but just how much do we know about the actual process that led to the composition and circulation of these sacred texts? When the apostle Paul decided to write to believers in Thessalonica, for example, how would he have gone about the task? Did he simply retreat for a time from his typical activities and write in isolation as he waited on the Spirit to guide his pen?

While there is much that we do not know about the particular circumstances that led to the production of each letter, what can be established about the ministry of the apostles and the common literary conventions of the Greco-Roman world may provide us with a basic sense of how the letters in the New Testament were composed and delivered. In this essay, we will consider the role that letters played in the ministry of the apostles and how they were likely produced and sent. Contrary to what might be assumed, the evidence suggests that several people played a role in the production and distribution of the canonical letters.1

The Functions of New Testament Letters

While it may be difficult for some in our digital age to understand, we find indications that the apostles and their companions favored personal interaction over written communication. In his letter to “the elect lady and her children,” the apostle John states, “Though I have much to write to you, I would rather not use paper and ink. Instead I hope to come to you and talk face to face, so that our joy may be complete” (2 John 12). A similar statement appears in John’s writing to Gaius and those in his local assembly (3 John 13–14). John was not alone in preferring face-to-face interaction. The apostle Paul also expressed his desire to be with his readers and to minister to them in person (see, for example, Romans 1:13; 15:22–23; 1 Thessalonians 2:18). This emphasis on personal instruction is echoed in one of Polycarp of Smyrna’s extant writings from the second century, in which he reflects upon Paul’s ministry. In his letter to the community in Philippi, Polycarp writes,

Neither I, nor anyone like me, is able to rival the wisdom of the blessed and glorious Paul, who, when living among you, carefully and steadfastly taught the word of truth face to face with his contemporaries and, when he was absent, wrote you letters. By the careful perusal of his letters you will be able to strengthen yourselves in the faith given to you.2

This brief description of Paul’s relationship with the Philippians underscores the fact that his preferred means of communication was personal “face to face” interaction, the same type of interaction preferred by John. Written letters certainly served an important role, but in-person ministry provided the apostles and early Christian leaders the opportunity to speak more extensively about a broader range of issues, to appeal more directly to the emotions of individuals (what the Greeks referred to as pathos), to answer and respond to questions, to clarify matters of confusion, and to personally observe how individuals responded to their teaching and exhortations.

On many occasions, however, the apostles were unable to personally visit Christian communities where believers were experiencing confusion, internal conflict, external opposition, or spiritual discouragement, or where they needed basic instruction and oversight. Paul, for example, often found himself imprisoned (2 Corinthians 6:5; 11:23) or unable to leave his area of ministry and travel to those who needed his guidance. In these situations, he could send one of his trusted companions, such as Timothy or Titus, to minister on his behalf, or he could compose a letter that addressed their concerns. As the church expanded away from Jerusalem, the increasing need for apostolic instruction in distant locations was often met with the production of letters.

The Collaborative Nature of Ancient Writing

While it is clear that the apostolic letters served an important role, what do we know about the process of composition? When someone like Paul determined to write to believers outside of his immediate vicinity, what steps would he need to take? To answer this question, we should first observe that letter writing was not always the isolated activity we might imagine. The biblical authors worked directly with a number of companions during the letter-writing process.3 This is consistent with what is known of ancient writing practices and is evidenced by clues within the New Testament letters themselves. As we examine Paul’s writings in particular, we find evidence of three specific contributions that were made by those who worked directly with the biblical writers.

Sources of Information

To one degree or another, each of the New Testament letters is occasional in nature. Rather than writing about matters of personal interest for a general audience, the biblical authors tended to write to address specific circumstances and the concerns of those in particular communities. In a world in which information flows instantly and conveniently, we can easily overlook the fact that writers such as Paul did not have an up-to-the-minute awareness of the challenges and situations facing believers throughout the Roman world. Although Paul wrote under the inspiration of the Spirit, he did not possess full knowledge of the state of each community and would have therefore found himself in constant need of recent and reliable information about the circumstances facing believers throughout the Roman world.

We might ask, therefore, how Paul came to learn about situations such as the false teaching that had made its way to Galatia, the many problems that needed to be addressed in Corinth, or the internal divisions that had formed in Philippi. The answer is that individuals occasionally traveled from these locations to where Paul was located, bringing with them reports about recent developments and the current state of the local churches. On some occasions, individuals were sent from a local community to update Paul about the situation they faced, inquire about specific concerns and issues, or assist him in practical ways. We find, for example, that Paul learned about the situation in Corinth from members of Chloe’s household (1 Corinthians 1:11) and from others such as Stephanas, Fortunatus, and Achaicus, who had made their way to Ephesus (1 Corinthians 16:17). We also find that Epaphroditus was sent by the church in Philippi to minister to Paul during one of his imprisonments (Philippians 2:25–30; 4:18).

“Letter writing was not always the isolated activity we might imagine.”

In addition to those who brought news from distant locations, writers such as Paul often received information about the circumstances of those in Christian communities from their own companions. On many occasions, Paul appears to have sent certain individuals to minister in areas with a newly formed church or where there may have been a particular need for guidance and instruction. We find, for example, that Timothy was instructed by Paul to minister in Ephesus (1 Timothy 1:3) and that Titus was sent to Crete (Titus 1:5). From these locations, they could have written to Paul with updates about the state of affairs in their immediate vicinity.

On other occasions, Paul’s companions may have traveled for only a brief time before returning to him or departing to a new location. Upon their return, they could provide Paul with updates about the issues facing believers where they had recently traveled and offer a report about the reception of his previous instruction. These insights would often prove vital to Paul as he weighed the possibility of penning a new or follow-up letter to those he could not personally visit. We find, for example, that he relied in part on information supplied by Titus when he composed 2 Corinthians (2 Corinthians 7:5–16) and on the report of Timothy when he penned 1 Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 3:1–6).

The role that these insights and reports played in the composition of the New Testament letters is part of the process of divine inspiration. While God inspired the human writers of Scripture, we may also affirm that the writing process involved human thought, reflection, creativity, and various literary practices of the time. In short, we may affirm that the divine origin of Scripture does not preclude the possibility that the authors employed common literary practices during the compositional process. Conversely, we may also recognize that various people playing a role in the production and distribution of the writings does not preclude the Spirit’s guidance throughout the compositional process.

Secretaries

After receiving reports about the circumstances facing believers in a particular area, Paul often decided to compose a letter that addressed the issues that were of concern to them. In addition to collaborating with his companions and those who had firsthand knowledge of the circumstances facing his readers, Paul’s apparent custom was to work directly with a secretary when composing his letters. In addition to a number of statements at the end of his letters, a clear indication that Paul used a secretary appears in Romans 16:22, where a secretary named Tertius offers a personal greeting.

Much is known of the responsibilities of secretaries in the Greco-Roman world from the extant writings of ancient figures and the discovery of a large body of manuscripts in locations such as Oxyrhynchus, Egypt. These discoveries reveal that those from all walks of life made frequent use of secretaries. They were not used merely by the wealthy, who could afford such a luxury, or by those who were illiterate and had no choice but to hire a professional to compose important documents for them. Rather, the evidence suggests that it was common for people of all backgrounds to enlist the services of a trained secretary, though the reasons for doing so often differed. One should not assume, therefore, that Paul and other writers of Scripture would have had little use for a secretary simply because they could compose a written text for themselves.

PAUL’S SECRETARIES

Those trained as secretaries came from different backgrounds and worked in a variety of settings. Some were professionals who offered their services for a fee, while others were educated slaves who assisted their masters with written correspondence, the production of business and legal documents, and even literary works. A famous example of the latter is Tiro, the slave of Cicero, who was praised by his master for his advanced literary abilities. One of the main differences between Paul and individuals such as Cicero was their financial situation. In light of what we know about Paul’s background, it is unlikely that he would have had the means to hire a professional scribe each time he composed one of his letters, and he certainly did not have any slaves who could serve in this role. We might infer, therefore, that individuals with specialized literary skills and training often served as Paul’s secretaries pro bono, regarding the time they spent assisting Paul as an important contribution to the work of the Lord. Interestingly, there may even be a hint in the words of Paul’s secretary Tertius, who wrote that his work on the letter was “in the Lord” (Romans 16:22) — perhaps suggesting that he offered it as an act of Christian service.4

The production of letters was expensive and time-consuming. Longer writings such as Romans or the Corinthian letters would have required many hours of labor for a secretary to complete, not to mention the significant expense of the supplies. In his illuminating study of secretaries in the Greco-Roman world, E. Randolph Richards estimated about twenty years ago that it may have cost over $2,000 in modern currency to hire a secretary to assist with a writing the length of Romans or 1 Corinthians.5 While it is difficult to determine the precise cost of producing ancient writings, hiring a secretary would have been a considerable expense. This would explain why most first-century letters tended to be much shorter than a typical Pauline writing. Like someone making a long-distance phone call in previous decades, one had to keep his or her words to a minimum in order to avoid an expensive bill. The generosity of several Christian secretaries appears to have enabled Paul both to address a wide range of issues at length in his writings and to write frequently.

THE BENEFITS OF SECRETARIES

The benefits of collaborating with a secretary were many. For one, they made the task of writing more convenient and efficient. Writing in the ancient world was not nearly as easy as typing out one’s thoughts on a computer and sending them off with the press of a button. Even if one had the ability to compose a letter, he would first need to acquire the necessary writing materials. Ink had to be mixed from various ingredients, and one would need unused papyrus or some type of alternative writing material as well. Secretaries often maintained all of the needed supplies to compose the letter, removing one step of the letter-writing process for their clients. The handwriting of secretaries also tended to be more attractive and tidier than the writing of most people.

In addition to the convenience they offered, secretaries could assist their clients with the composition of a writing. If a person had limited literary abilities, he could simply share with the secretary the basic information he wished to convey. The secretary would then draft a letter that covered each of the requested items. In situations in which a secretary worked with a more educated client or one who was writing for a public audience, a greater degree of collaboration might be expected. However, even in situations in which an author dictated the content of the letter to a secretary — which seems to have been the case when Paul composed his works — the secretary could offer guidance throughout the writing process on the style and structure of the letter and the best ways to introduce and address certain subjects.6 Once the original draft was complete, the author would personally examine the document and make any desired changes before authenticating the final work by adding a short handwritten greeting, signature, or some other type of personal touch (see 1 Corinthians 16:21; Galatians 6:11; Colossians 4:18; 2 Thessalonians 3:17; Philemon 19).7

Secretaries could also produce duplicates of the finished work for their clients. For the New Testament authors, duplicate letters would have often been highly desired and even considered necessary. We should not assume, for example, that Paul sent off his only copy of Romans to believers in Rome without first ensuring that he had at least one copy in his own possession. After the time and effort that went into the production of his letters, it is highly unlikely that he simply took a chance that a letter would arrive safely and be preserved. Because of this, Paul’s secretaries probably produced copies of his letters throughout his missionary career. As I have suggested elsewhere, the original collection of Paul’s letters likely derived from the duplicate copies in his possession or the possession of his companions.8 This would seem much more plausible than the theory that the collection emerged from an exchange of writings between churches or from the acquisition of letters by one or more individuals who traveled throughout the Roman world in search of Paul’s writings.

Letter Carriers

We might also consider how the canonical letters made their way to the intended readers once they were composed. With no postal service available to the general public, what method did writers such as Paul use to deliver their writings? Once again, we find that he relied on the assistance of his companions. Throughout his letters are hints that certain companions were charged with the task of delivering his writings.9 This list would include Phoebe (Romans 16:1–2), who seems to have been charged with delivering the letter to the Romans; Titus, who appears to have delivered 2 Corinthians (2 Corinthians 8:16–24); Epaphroditus, who likely returned to Philippi with the letter from Paul (Philippians 2:25–30); and Tychicus, who appears to have delivered Ephesians (Ephesians 6:21–22), Colossians (Colossians 4:7–9), Philemon (Philemon 12),10 2 Timothy (2 Timothy 4:12), and possibly others.11

Letter carriers were often given more responsibilities than simply delivering the letter to the intended recipients. In addition to this major task, letter carriers were known to deliver materials or supplies and to provide the readers with supplementary information and clarity about matters discussed in the writing. In the case of Paul’s writings, we might imagine letter carriers such as Tychicus expounding on certain points or offering clarity about various matters addressed by Paul. On certain occasions, the letter carrier may have also read the letter to the assembled gathering of the believers, though this also could have been done by the local elders or other believers in the community. Once their task was complete, letter carriers often returned to the author with a response letter from the recipients and a personal report on how the letter was received. This update would allow Paul to remain informed about recent developments in the community and to discern which subjects may need to be addressed in the future.

Enduring Epistles

That Paul and others had a wide network of friends and associates who worked alongside them is well-known.12 What is often overlooked, however, is that many of these companions assisted the apostles in one way or another with their writing ministry. As we have observed, the composition of the canonical letters involved multiple steps and collaboration between the author and a number of others. After receiving reports about the circumstances facing his readers, writers such as Paul typically consulted with their companions and a secretary who in many cases may have been a fellow believer graciously volunteering his time and expertise. Once a letter was completed and copies of the text had been produced, one or more letter carriers would have been entrusted to deliver the work to the intended recipients. Often, the letter carrier would return with a report about the reception of the letter. On some occasions, these reports may have prompted further correspondence from the author or led him to arrange a future visit.

While the circumstances that led to the composition of each of the New Testament writings were unique and are not fully known to us, we can be grateful that certain developments prompted the New Testament writers to compose works that continue to instruct and encourage believers today. Unlike their oral teaching, much of the apostles’ written instruction has been preserved and has benefited the church for nearly two millennia. As we read and study the canonical letters today, we are thus able to join the first generation of believers in Jerusalem who, among other things, “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching” (Acts 2:42).

Audio Transcript

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you here in the States. Thanksgiving is a Pauline theme, ever relevant for all of us on any day. This national holiday is a fitting time for a question on Romans 1:21, and how Godward thanksgiving — or a lack of it — shapes the trajectory of our whole lives. How is the story of your life told by your thanksgiving?

This is a great question from a listener named James, who likely isn’t celebrating Thanksgiving Day because he lives in the beautiful, rugged peninsula of Cornwall, England. Here’s his email: “Pastor John, thank you for your ministry and for this podcast. I was wondering if you can explain the logic of the trajectory Paul talks about in Romans 1. Specifically, I want to better understand the role of God-centered thanksgiving in verse 21: ‘For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.’ This failure to thank leads to deeper and deeper sin-bondage and greater and greater judgments from God on sinners. Negatively, how does thanklessness help us understand what sin is? Positively, how does thanksgiving shape the trajectory of our lives?”

This really is an astonishing text. I thought about it all over again. I spent a lot of time just soaking in the amazing statements of this text, especially because of its claim that every human being knows God. They know his eternity. They know his power. They know his being Creator of all. They know his deity. Everyone knows God. Atheists know God. Agnostics know God. Animists know God. Every person you meet on the street knows God.

Apart from God’s saving grace, Romans 1:18 says, every human being suppresses that knowledge. The reason we do is because every human being finds other things preferable to God, which is the very essence of evil, the essence of sin. Jeremiah 2:13 says, “My people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water.” This is the arch evil, the primal sin, the root of all other evils: humans find things, people, the creation preferable to God.

Even though those other things are like dirt by comparison, we don’t prefer God. We don’t find God attractive. We don’t find God desirable, beautiful, satisfying. That’s the evil of all evils, and that’s why, Paul says, we suppress the knowledge of God that we have — because that knowledge shows him as preferable to all things.

Heart of the Problem

So, we claim not to know God. We claim not to know him, but we do know him. We get angry at him for not making himself more plain, but Paul says that God made himself perfectly plain to everyone (Romans 1:19). Our problem is not lack of revelation; our problem is that we don’t want to see. We don’t want to see, and so we suppress and pretend that we don’t see. Paul says that’s our darkness, that’s our foolishness, that’s the futility of our minds (Romans 1:21).

“Every single thing that gives us any pleasure at all in this world is a gift of God.”

We find God unattractive, distasteful, offensive, even abhorrent. Then, in all kinds of ways, we exchange his infinitely beautiful, all-satisfying glory for pitiful substitutes, like images of ourselves or cultural artifacts that exalt our ingenuity and intelligence and creativity and vaunted independence. The result is that humankind is under the just wrath of God, so that he hands us over to more and more, greater and greater degradation, which we see happening all around us.

In the middle of this dreadful description of our human condition, Paul mentions the positive alternative to that darkness and foolishness and futility and suppression of the truth — namely, glorifying and thanking God precisely as God. That’s what’s missing: glorifying and thanking God. That would change everything.

Glory and Gratitude

Let me read the text so that people can hear for themselves everything I just said.

The wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them [or made it plain]. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made [he’s our Maker, and we know it]. So they are without excuse. For although they knew God [that’s probably the most amazing statement in the text], they did not honor [or glorify] him as God or give thanks to him, but they became futile in their thinking, and their foolish hearts were darkened. Claiming to be wise, they became fools, and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man and birds and animals and creeping things. (Romans 1:18–23)

So, James is right. He is asking about the place and function of thankfulness in this text: “For although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him.” I think Paul mentions both “honor,” which is like “glorify,” and “give thanks” because he knows that they are overlapping realities. When we thank God, we are showing him to be glorious, and no one can truly glorify God with a heart of ingratitude.

To glorify and to thank are overlapping realities, but they’re not the same. There are ways to feel and think and act that glorify God, but we wouldn’t call them thankfulness. The reality of glorifying God is wider, bigger. It’s a bigger reality than thanking God. Thanking God is a subset, a subspecies, of glorifying God. And yet Paul, of all the ways to glorify God that he could have said, chooses to mention thankfulness alongside glorifying God. Why is that?

Made to Thank

First, I think it relates to the fact that Paul has just said that what can be known about God is known through the things he has made. In other words, everywhere a human being looks, whether the sky, the forest, the mountains, the rivers, the sea, the land, family, the mirror — all of it — everywhere you look is made by God and is a gift of God, from the Maker to humanity. Every single thing that gives us any pleasure at all in this world is a gift of God.

The heart-response that God created for glorifying him for his gifts is thankfulness. That’s what he created, that’s what he designed, in the human heart as a response to this vast, vast array of made things, of gifts. Of course, it’s not wrong to speak of being thankful to God for God. That’s not wrong, but in the Bible thankfulness mostly relates to God’s gifts and his deeds to bless us. For sure, God himself is the gift, and if we don’t arrive there, we haven’t arrived.

Still, it is right and good that our hearts brim, they just brim, with thankfulness that God is a Maker. Everything that is not God was made by God. Therefore, at every turn, everywhere we look, all the time, 24-7, we should feel profoundly, continually, earnestly thankful for God’s gifts. I think that’s one of the reasons why he lists thankfulness as the counterpart to “honor” or “glorify” in this text.

Made to Depend

Secondly, I think Paul calls out being thankful to God alongside glorifying God because built into thankfulness is humility, a sense of dependence and gladness in needy receiving. Humility, dependence, glad neediness — not surprisingly, these sound a lot like faith.

I think if you pressed Paul, he would say true thankfulness toward our all-glorious, all-powerful, all-providing Creator includes humble, dependent, glad trust. Thankfulness and trust may not be the same thing, but they are so intimately and integrally connected that Paul thinks thankfulness is a good thing to mention here, where he also wants to call attention to trust.

Can anyone truly say, “I am joyfully thankful to God for his all-satisfying beauty and his all-governing power and his all-providing goodness to me — but I don’t trust him”? Nobody can talk like that. Something is inauthentic if that kind of sentence is spoken. Thankfulness, when oriented on God, is a deep and powerful experience.

“The heart-response that God created for glorifying him for his gifts is thankfulness.”

And so, when thankfulness fails, Paul describes its absence like this: “They became futile in their thinking. Their foolish hearts were darkened. Their claim to be wise was shown to be foolishness, and they fell into the sacrilege of exchanging God for images, especially the one in the mirror.” That’s the absence of thankfulness. It’s a horrible, horrible description.

World’s Desperate Need

So yes, I think James is right. The absence of thankfulness as the absence of humility, dependence, glad neediness, and trust is one way of describing the darkness and folly and futility of our own times.

It’s the opposite, you could say, of Pride with a capital P, the very Pride that calls our shame “glory,” exactly the way Romans 1 describes it, when they exchange God for the person in the mirror. The exchange of the opposite sex for the same sex in our passions is an outflow, Paul says, of that very exchange of God for the person in the mirror.

There are many ways to describe the desperate need of the world, and according to Romans 1, one way is repentance from pride and independence and self-sufficiency toward a humble, dependent, happy, trustful neediness for God as he has revealed himself in Jesus, which we call thankfulness.