Written by William R. Edwards |
Thursday, August 10, 2023
Although current features may vary and create unique stresses that differ from previous generations and other cultures, the underlying narrative for all ministry remains the same. Those in every age who faithfully preach this Christ will manifest his death and resurrection as participants in what they proclaim. If this is missed, so too will be the significance of the suffering we endure: that the gospel of Jesus’ death and resurrection might be displayed against the backdrop of our own moment in redemptive history.

Many have written on the difficulties of pastoral ministry, backed by research into the demise of those who become discouraged in the work. These studies provide useful descriptions and helpful insights into the culture of ministry and how it might be changed. Much of this recent work, however, lacks deeper reflection on the biblical-theological themes that frame life in ministry and provide categories through which its difficulties must be understood. This article explores the framework for suffering in ministry through Paul’s letters, focusing on his correspondence with the Corinthians, with the aim of recovering the rich redemptive-historical narrative of ministry that is grounded in Christ’s death and resurrection.

The American church has conducted a substantial amount of research into the health of its pastors since the start of the twenty-first century. Alarming statistics have been amassed suggesting all is not well.1 The general consensus is that over the past thirty to fifty years much has changed in ministry with the result that “pastoral leadership does not seem to offer the promise of a life well lived.”2 This appears evident from the large numbers of those leaving the ministry within the first five years, with some statistics indicating a fourfold increase since the 1970s.3 The mainstream media has taken note too, with an article in the New York Times concluding, “Members of the clergy now suffer from obesity, hypertension and depression at rates higher than most Americans. In the last decade, their use of antidepressants has risen, while their life expectancy has fallen.”4 Studies indicate that many in ministry are unhappy and would leave for some other line of work if they could.5
As desperate as this sounds, action has been taken to address these troubling trends. The Lilly Foundation funded a ten-year project, “Sustaining Pastoral Excellence,” distributing grants totaling in the millions of dollars to 63 different organizations, with the aim of conducting research to better understand the negative conditions of pastoral ministry and develop strategies for positive change.6 These organizations represent the breadth of the American church, from mainline and evangelical Protestants to Roman Catholics.7 As a result of their work, a number of book-length studies have been published, which both describe common reasons for the difficult climate of pastoral ministry and prescribe potential remedies for improving its environment.8
Although operating with diverse theological commitments, the use of the social sciences ties these various studies together. Each explores the habits and practices of pastors in their various traditions with the guiding question of what defines and sustains excellence in ministry, utilizing qualitative research methods in the analysis of data to develop their descriptions and reach their conclusions.9 These studies prove helpful in many ways, noting commonalities in experience that coalesce into themes that frame life in ministry, which need to be examined and of which churches and pastors need to be aware.10 The hopeful expectation through all of this work is that “a new narrative about ministry is coming into being,” one that replaces the discouraging narrative of irrelevance, ineffectiveness, and mediocrity.11
These studies inevitably include a measure of biblical and theological reflection. The primary focus, however, is the research into the immediate causes that make pastoral ministry uniquely difficult in our current setting. So while biblical notions of excellence in ministry are considered, the data gathered on contemporary experience is at the heart of the analyses. While valuable in bringing to light particular difficulties that our present ministry culture may create, this approach potentially overshadows deeper biblical-theological descriptions that are at the core of the hardship ministers face in every age.
The aim of this article is to explore the biblical-theological framework for suffering in ministry that all pastors will endure as they faithfully proclaim Christ. In particular, Paul’s letters will be examined with special attention given to his correspondence with the Corinthians, which is rich with descriptions of his own experience, not only as an account of his life in ministry, but as a pattern for all those who follow. The premise in what follows is that the current need is not so much to develop a new narrative for pastoral ministry, but to recover the rich biblical-theological narrative of ministry found in Scripture that is grounded in Christ’s death and resurrection.12 In doing so, the hope is to see beyond the specific struggles faced today, to the larger story common to all in ministry throughout these last days, stretching from Christ’s resurrection until his return, so that those entering the work of ministry will do so with a narrative informed by the gospel they are called to proclaim.
1. Maintaining the Matters of First Importance in Ministry
In various places Paul presents what appears to be a rather grandiose view of his ministry, such as when he describes his “insight into the mystery of Christ, which was not made known to the sons of men in other generations,” a mystery that, he says, was “made known to me by revelation” (Eph 3:3–5).13 He boldly envisions his labors in relation to great OT prophets, going so far as to compare himself to Moses, leaving the clear impression that his is the greater and more glorious work (2 Cor 3:11–13). These portrayals, on first read, may seem to imply an exaggerated sense of self-importance.14 It is not, however, Paul’s self-perception that leads to this exalted view of his ministry. Instead, Paul understands that the greatness of the age ushered in by Christ’s death and resurrection exalts his work. It is not his contribution that brings distinction. This grand and decisive epoch of redemption attributes greatness to Paul’s own labors in ministry.15
Paul concludes his first letter to the Corinthians with a reminder of what he refers to as the matter “of first importance” in the gospel he preaches: “that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures” (1 Cor 15:3–4). Death and resurrection together constitute the focal point of the gospel he proclaims. Yet in reading Paul, this climactic moment of redemption is not simply the summary of Paul’s message. Jesus’ death and resurrection is of first importance as the event that inaugurates a new era of redemption, which then serves as the setting for all he endures in ministry.16
According to Paul, Christ’s death and resurrection displays God’s “plan for the fullness of time” that has now entered history (Eph 1:9–10). Therefore, he can confidently say that upon us “the end of the ages has come” (1 Cor 10:11), because of “the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel” (2 Tim 1:10–11). In every description of ministry, Paul remains fully alert to this time in which he labors. It emboldens his proclamation: “Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation” (2 Cor 6:2). Regarding Paul, Ridderbos notes that, “before everything else, he was the proclaimer of a new time, the great turning point in the history of redemption, the intrusion of a new world aeon.”17 Paul is urged on in the work, and urges others through his preaching, because Christ’s death and resurrection have brought about this age of salvation in which he now serves.18
Thus, what Paul identifies as the matter of first importance in the message he proclaims is maintained as the matter of first importance for his entire ministry. Christ’s death and resurrection is not simply the great past redemptive event he points back to as he preaches. Christ’s death and resurrection shapes his entire conception of ministry. Through it Paul proclaims the coming of an age within which his ministry takes place, a redemptive epoch of which his ministry is truly a vibrant part. Paul understood, as Vos says, that “the servant is, as it were, made part of the wonder-world of salvation itself.”19 Ministers of this gospel do not tell the story of salvation as if standing at a distance, but instead are made participants in the unfolding drama of the last days inaugurated by Christ’s death and resurrection. According to Ridderbos, “Paul’s preaching itself is taken up into the great eschatological event.”20 His ministry is also a part of God’s redemptive provision, inseparable from this age of fulfillment.
These eschatological themes, therefore, are integral to the framework of, and thus essential to endure faithfully in, the work of ministry. Narrowly viewed, eschatology may be approached as an area of study concerned with distant events and consequently largely fruitless for practical ministry. In considering the above, however, its concern is not so much with obscure matters but with the great mystery revealed in Christ’s death and resurrection. The great end has now truly begun. Jesus himself is “the beginning, the firstborn from the dead” (Col 1:18). All gospel ministry must maintain this outlook. To quote Vos again, “The joy of working in the dawn of the world to come quickens the pulse of all New Testament servants of Christ.”21 Or at least it should, and only will when these “last things” are maintained as the “first thing” in ministry. In this sense, eschatology, rightly conceived, is always protology for the pastor. The eschatos is protos for Paul. The end begun with Christ’s death and resurrection is always of first importance, and must be as we consider the work of ministry.
When this perspective is lost, so is the larger story for our ministry. Bereft of such a vision, we are left simply with the things immediately before us, our work defined primarily by our current activity rather than the age of consummation that has now come. Apart from a rich biblical eschatology, the pastor’s attention will be confined to his own labors while missing the grand narrative that gives them any significance. When this occurs, the tasks of ministry become wearying in their repetition: sermons to prepare and worship to order with the approach of each Sunday, more counsel to offer possibly with little hope of change if experience proves true, meetings with elders that focus primarily on pressing needs. David Hansen laments how in the work of the pastor, “Theology’s venerable already not-yet has become what needs to be done today and what can be left until tomorrow.”22 The immediate pressures and demands of pastoral ministry may cause us to lose sight of this final epoch of redemption in which we serve. And without this larger story, the burdens of ministry may quickly become unbearable and the source of great discouragement.
2. A Portrayal of What Is Proclaimed
However, it is not simply that Paul has the privilege of serving at the inauguration of this new age. The work of Christ that ushers in this day of salvation also serves as the pattern for his ministry. His life portrays what he proclaims. This is evident at the inception of Paul’s call, heard in Jesus’ words spoken to Ananias, where he says, “I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name” (Acts 9:16). As Ananias relays Jesus’ words, it is unclear if this particular statement was conveyed to Paul at this point. Surely all enter ministry unaware of how the message they bear will so deeply mark their own lives.
On first read, Jesus’ comment may sound vindictive, possibly a form of punishment for Paul’s previous persecution of the church. Yet Paul interprets all of his sufferings as indicative of the Savior he serves. It is not about Paul. It’s about Jesus. Paul is not suffering for his past sins, but as one compelled by Christ’s love, who died that “those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised” (2 Cor 5:14–15). Therefore, he is willing to “endure everything for the sake of the elect” (2 Tim 2:10). He can even say that he is “filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church” (Col 1:24). Every experience in ministry is interpreted through Christ’s death and resurrection, as an integral part of the ongoing drama of redemption as it plays out in these last days, which includes his own life.
Paul vividly describes his apostolic ministry in 1 Cor 4:9: “I think that God has exhibited us apostles as last of all, like men sentenced to death, because we have become a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men.”23 The Greek word translated as spectacle is θέατρον, also the word for theater.24 This depiction clearly captures Paul’s image, not of what he is called to do in ministry, but of what God intends his ministry to be in this world. His life is to show the very things that he tells, to portray what he proclaims.25 Each instance of suffering he endures is set in a truly cosmic story that centers on Christ’s death and resurrection, visible before heaven and earth, to both angels and men.26 And Paul views his ministry as part of a final act, “last of all,” as a concluding display that captures in his own experience the climactic elements of the entire story.27
The question is whether something equally dramatic can be said for those who serve in ministry after the age of the apostles. Is such a description also true for those who minister today? Should every pastor see himself as part of this final act whose life, similar to Paul, will portray what he proclaims? Clearly the apostles had a unique function, commissioned by Jesus himself to serve as the foundation for the church (Eph 2:20). They had a once for all role that is not to be repeated. Surely, however, if Christ’s death and resurrection forms the foundation in this way, the same will characterize all ministry built upon it.28
This is particularly seen in 2 Tim 1:8–12 where Paul offers himself as an example to Timothy, that he too is called to “share in suffering for the gospel,” and similarly describes the setting of Timothy’s ministry as his own: “the appearing of our Savior Jesus Christ, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” Significantly here, Paul identifies himself not first as an apostle, but as a preacher, and then also as a teacher, which he says, “is why I suffer as I do.” In other words, Paul’s experience is not so much a function of his apostolic office as it is of the age to which his ministry belongs. Timothy’s labors share this setting, and so do all who serve in ministry since Christ’s appearing. Pastors today not only may, but must understand that their lives will likewise portray what they proclaim, because they too are participants in this final act initiated by Christ’s death and resurrection.
3. Ministry Will Always Manifest the Same Story
Paul develops this theme of death and resurrection as the framework for pastoral ministry most thoroughly in his second letter to the Corinthians.29 He defends the character of his ministry among them, weaving through the whole the implications of what he has established as the matter of first importance in his prior epistle. In his exposition of Christ’s resurrection in 1 Cor 15, he has already made application to ministry in verses 30–32, describing the threat he continually faces, characterizing it as death, saying, “I die every day!” Yet it is not his own personality or disposition that constantly pushes Paul into the fray despite the danger. His continued boldness has its basis in the resurrection. There is no gain, he says, “If the dead are not raised.” Paul takes up this theme at the start of 2 Corinthians, describing “our affliction” as sharing “in Christ’s sufferings” (2 Cor 1:4–5).30 He returns to it repeatedly as he describes how a ministry that faithfully represents Christ will always manifest the story of his death and resurrection.31
Paul concisely describes this pattern as it is replicated in his own experience in 2 Cor 4:7–18. Referring to the gospel that is centered in the risen, glorified Christ, he says, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.” Again, as in 1 Cor 4:9 mentioned above, Paul understands his own frailty, weakness, and suffering as the very setting in which the resurrected Christ is most clearly seen. He then provides a list that captures how this is exhibited in his own life: “afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Cor 4:9). Each is an occurrence of death, yet always coupled with resurrection.
Read More
Related Posts:

Why, ultimately, did Paul warn of hell? Because Jesus was too wonderful, too marvelous not to use every righteous means available to “present everyone mature in Christ,” to win people to him and keep people near him. Others needed to know the danger of hell because they needed to know the danger of missing eternal life with him. Warnings were his way of casting us into the arms of Christ, the safest place in all the world.

I stood at a friend’s kitchen sink, surprised and somewhat disturbed. My friend’s wife had taped a notecard on the wall behind the sink with some spiritual reminders. That in itself was nothing new: though still a young believer, I had seen such cards posted to desks, doors, bathroom mirrors, and the like. No, what surprised me was one particular reminder this young woman had chosen to write.
The exact words escape me, but the sense still burns in my memory: “You deserve hell.”
You deserve hell? On the one hand, I had no intellectual objection to the statement. I myself had recently come to see the darkness of my native heart. I had realized that I was not just mistaken or in need of occasional forgiveness, but actually hell-deserving — and hell-destined apart from the grace of Jesus.
But the notecard still disturbed me. Yes, we deserve hell, but should we recall the fact as often as we wash our hands? Should the reality of hell, and the remembrance that we once were headed there, stay warm in our minds?
I can certainly imagine someone thinking too much about hell. The unspeakable sorrow of eternal punishment, dwelt on overmuch, could overwhelm the sense of joy pulsing through the New Testament. But a recent survey of Paul’s letters leads me to think my friend’s wife was closer to his apostolic heart than my instinct to recoil.
We may not post reminders above our sinks, but somehow the thought needs to become more than passing and occasional. We deserve hell, and only one thing stands between us and that outer darkness: Jesus.
Remember Hell
When we turn to Paul’s letters, we actually notice something even more startling than the notecard over my friend’s sink. Regularly throughout his writings, the apostle not only reminds the churches of their formerly hopeless state; he also warns them of their ongoing danger should they drift from Christ. He says not only, “You deserve hell,” but also, “Make sure you don’t end up there.”
Consider just a few of Paul’s bracing warnings to the churches:

“If you live according to the flesh you will die” (Romans 8:13).
“Do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God?” (1 Corinthians 6:9).
“Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience” (Ephesians 5:6).
“Put to death . . . what is earthly in you. . . . On account of these the wrath of God is coming” (Colossians 3:5–6).
“The Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you beforehand and solemnly warned you” (1 Thessalonians 4:6).

The situation becomes even more surprising when we consider Paul’s overall posture toward the believers in these churches. Paul was “satisfied” that the Romans were “full of goodness” (Romans 15:14). He was confident the Corinthians were “sanctified in Christ Jesus” (1 Corinthians 1:2). He saw the Ephesians as already seated with Christ (Ephesians 2:4–6); he rejoiced in the firmness of the Colossians’ faith (Colossians 2:5); he knew God had chosen the Thessalonians (1 Thessalonians 1:4).
And yet he warned. In fact, Paul places his warnings near the heart of his apostolic calling: “[Christ] we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ” (Colossians 1:28). So, amid his encouragements, and throughout his doctrinal instruction, and even as he exulted in the hope of glory, he would sometimes grow solemn and still, lower his tone, and turn his ink black.
“Dear brothers,” he would write in effect, “Christ is gloriously yours. But until you see him face to face, don’t imagine yourselves out of danger. Hell still awaits any who forsake him.”
Why Did Paul Warn?
Why did Paul warn his beloved churches, sometimes with unsettling sternness? A closer look at his warnings sheds some light. Among several purposes Paul had, we might consider three in particular that rise to the surface.
These three purposes are not limited to Paul’s apostolic calling, or even to the pastoral calling today. Pastors, as God’s watchmen, may have a special responsibility to blow eternity’s trumpet, but Paul and the other apostles expected all Christians to play their part in admonishing, exhorting, warning (Colossians 3:16; 1 Thessalonians 5:14; Hebrews 3:13).
So, as we consider when and why Paul warned of hell, we (pastors especially, but also all of us) learn when and why we should too.
Read More
Related Posts:

Written by J.V. Fesko |
Wednesday, July 10, 2024
As you consider the Old Testament, do not press the narratives into the service of application apart from Christ. First consider how Christ is organically connected to the text. How does the New Testament authoritatively explain the particular Old Testament text before you? Through the light of the revelation of the gospel of Christ, you are equipped to recognize clearly Jesus in the shadowlands of the Old Testament.

In the wake of the death and resurrection of Christ, a number of Jesus’ disciples failed to receive word that their Lord and Savior had risen from the dead. Under the impression that Jesus was dead in his tomb, the disciples walked on the road to Emmaus until a visitor joined them along the way:
That very day two of them were going to a village named Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and they were talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them. But their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What is this conversation that you are holding with each other as you walk?” (Luke 24:13-17)
This visitor eventually revealed himself as the risen Messiah, and Jesus began to teach them about his ministry from “the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms” (Luke 24:44). In other words, Jesus taught his disciples exclusively from the Old Testament.
In fact, the phrase that Luke uses, the Law, Prophets, and Psalms, refers to the three major divisions of the Old Testament. Another way of stating Christ’s point is, “The whole Old Testament points to me—Jesus!” If the Old Testament is about Jesus, then how does this affect the way we read it?
The Old Testament isn’t merely about morals, ethics, or leadership.
All too often people read the Old Testament as if its narratives set forth principles merely about morals, ethics, or leadership. Moses is an example for leadership in how he led a rebellious people through the wilderness—these “life lessons” can then be applied to a host of workplace conflicts.
Read More
Related Posts: