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We are excited to let you know about a new phase in the growth of Living Leadership’s ministries, and how we hope it might enable us to serve more Christian leaders, their spouses and churches or organisations. In recent years, we have seen significant growth in the number of leaders, spouses and churches we are able to support. In the last financial year alone, we were able to support more than 350 leaders from around 200 churches. And yet, we are aware that many more leaders, spouses and churches do not know about the support available for them. Following an unexpected and generous donation, we have been able to set aside some money to employ three part-time “Ministry Development Leads” for three years to develop ministries and expand our support in three key areas: the Midlands, the South of England and Women in Ministry. Whilst there are many other regions that we could have devoted energy to, and hope to in future, we are looking forward to being able to serve more people in these areas through One-to-Ones, Refreshment Days and other ministries as we deem necessary. Phil Sweeting will be the Ministry Development Lead for the Midlands, Graham Cooke for the South of England and Melinda Hendry for Women in Ministry. Phil and Graham are already in post, with Melinda starting later this month. If you’d like to find out a bit more about them you can do so on our website, or we recently interviewed Phil on our podcast about his life, ministry and what he hopes for this role. You can listen to that on a podcast app of choice (search Living Leadership) or on our website. We will be doing similar interviews with Graham and Melinda in the coming months. Please pray for them as they take up these new posts, and for the rest of the staff team as we reconfigure after this growth.

In Psalm 73 the writer Asaph reflects on how his spirit is oppressed by the apparent godlessness, success and ease of the wicked. His heart was grieved and his spirit embittered. What, he asked himself, had been the point of him keeping his heart pure when they hadn't - and had flourished while he had not? Praise God for such realism. Asaph still clings to God, trusting his goodness and sufficiency. However, it is not shallow and sugar-coated religion, but rather real faith in action in real and distressing situations. The verse that sprang out at me is v15: "If I had said "I will speak thus," I would have betrayed your children" This is very hard indeed. What he appears to be saying is that while he is feeling very painful, true things, and even though the wicked are prospering, if he had said it at the time it would have damaged rather than helped the people of God. He doesn’t elaborate on the reasons and, clearly, he feels that now, at the time of writing the Psalm, he is OK to say it. But previously he felt constrained, and the constraining factor was not whether he would have been correct, but the good of God's people. To apply this to Christian leadership, sometimes the good of God's people is served by not saying things that are true and could be said legitimately. Anyone who has been in pastoral ministry for any length of time discovers that making these kinds of judgements is among the hardest things they ever have to do, especially if speaking would not merely be cathartic, but might exonerate them or protect them from some present or future accusation. (I should note that I am talking about pastoral decision-making here, not about things that leaders have a statutory legal duty and responsibility to disclose). I've been in a number of situations over the years where there was no choice but to take a difficult decision, which leaders could only defend at the cost of damaging other people or their church. I praise God for godly people who have chosen to absorb the misunderstanding and flack themselves, or have allowed their personal reputation and trust to take a hit, for the sake of others and of the church, rather than speaking. Taking decisions that could legitimately be defended, but that can't be without damaging the church, is incredibly debilitating. It provokes rumblings and accusations of power-misuse. It might even cause factions or cause people to question people's suitability for ministry. It causes loss of sleep and fretting through the night. Ministries have ended, livelihoods have been damaged and mental health has been destroyed because leaders chose to not defend themselves in hard decisions when they could have done, and done so truthfully. How should church leaders approach these kinds of issues? Processes and plurality are crucial. When decisions cannot be defended, if it is clear to all that there has been a legitimate process, with legitimate scrutineers (either inside or outside the local situation), and that it has been handled not just by one person who takes the decision and then carries all the responsibility alone, then it may be easier to find ways through. Of course, it opens the possibility that a whole group of leaders are then distrusted rather than just one. They are deemed to be "circling the wagons" and moving to protect one of their own rather than being open and honest. Under such circumstances, wider groupings and denominations may have further mechanisms for investigation, but independent churches do not. They are dependent only on the cache of trust they have placed in their elders and in their processes and policies. I remember a situation in which I decided not to tell my ministry team some things that were happening in the wider organisation, that they would have found distressing and debilitating. Subsequently, they found out from a third party and together asked me why I hadn't told them, and whether it was because I didn't trust them with the information. I told them that it had been to protect them from things that weren't actually their business and that wouldn't have helped them to know. However, seeing as they had heard some details, I had to fill them in on what was actually going on, rather than them relying on rumour and hearsay. When I did, they responded, "you're right, we would rather not have known that and it would have been better if we hadn't." In another ministry situation, I was wrestling with whether to reveal information about a church leader's behaviour. I spoke to a third party who was in the know. They had decided that the likely negative consequences to the church of doing so outweighed the possible benefit, and that speaking - while correct and truthful - carried a significant risk of "leaving a church as a smoking crater". And that is the agonising wisdom issue for leaders. What is it better for them to carry and absorb, and for the church or ministry to not know? What information should they not disclose for the sake of individuals or the church, in the knowledge that if it comes out later people will make incorrect assumptions about why they were silent? In the social media age, it is now normal to assume that silence indicates some kind of complicity in the misuse of power, rather than a prayerful and careful desire to not damage other people or a church. Of course, no leaders make perfect decisions all the time. Sometimes hindsight shows them to be wrong or only partially right, in ways they couldn't know at the time. Sometimes they have to judge, on balance, what a least-bad approach is when there are no obviously good options. After much thought and prayer, I concluded that the other person was probably correct, but it was very much a judgement call "on balance". I am very sympathetic to the wide range of difficult decisions church leaders have to take, some of which are in areas that are simply intractable. They have to make decisions that others will find distressing or deem to be wrong whatever decision is taken. The critical thing is that such decisions are made in trustworthy ways. Are they done plurally? Are they done with appropriate transparency to the appropriate structures and scrutineers in the church (especially elders or church wardens)? Are procedures and policies followed so that the church can trust that leaders haven’t made decisions to benefit themselves at the expense of others? These things create an environment of trust. And, under it all, are leaders, like Asaph, wired to not speak when it would benefit them personally to do so, but in the process would damage and betray God's children? His response is to seek refuge in God, in God’s justice and in his ability to bring things to the right conclusion: “When I tried to understand all this, it was oppressive to me till I entered the sanctuary of God; then I understood their final destiny” v16-17. And refuge in God’s comfort, counsel and eternal security: “Yet I am always with you; you hold me by your right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterwards you will take me into glory” v23-24. The mark of shepherds is that, following the example of Jesus, we rather lay down our lives for the sheep than defend ourselves. But we don’t need to defend ourselves because God has us, even when we are at the end of ourselves: “Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever” v25-26.

You may remember that craze from the 90s, fuelled by the merchandising opportunities spotted by enterprising Christian marketers: What Would Jesus Do? It was on wristbands, t-shirts, mugs. You could probably even get a tattoo. It's a helpful question in lots of ways, but I’ve adopted a slightly different verb in recent years and found it to be much more helpful in many contexts. (More of that soon). But first a profound revelation! “It’s all about Jesus – the rest is just footnotes.” This is a phrase I’ve found myself saying often recently – I don’t know whether I coined it (unlikely) but I can’t remember hearing it from anyone else first. But in essence this distils the learning of the last 20 years of walking with Jesus in the context of full time paid Christian ministry. When we first become a Christian we know that we need Jesus. We’re full of joy about what He has done for us. The gospel is good news of great joy! But as we continue as a Christian, the more we realise the depth of our sin, and the revel in the wonder and breadth of His grace. And the more we come to understand the otherwise puzzling phrase of Paul – “for me to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Phil 1:21) We don’t move on from the gospel – but we grow in our understanding and application of it. To my mind that ends the otherwise interminable debates I used to have with a former colleague about which should have priority – evangelism or discipleship. As Glen Scrivener brilliantly captured it – “Evangelism is discipling non-believers; discipleship is evangelising believers” – that is in both cases we are applying the gospel to people’s lives but with a slightly different focus in each case. But one thing I’ve noticed recently, especially as I have been more involved in encouraging and coaching leaders, is that though we ‘know’ this, we often forget to apply it to ourselves. Which takes us back to my new verb. Let me paint a hypothetical conversation. I’m talking to a church leader, and they share with me some intractable pastoral problem. They’ve made a few missteps on the way and now they’re wondering how on earth to move forward. When we’ve explored the problem in a bit of detail I will often say something like this: “Imagine Jesus were (physically[1]) with us right now, sitting on the sofa next to you. What would Jesus say to you.” Boom. There’s the verb you were waiting for. But the power of this question is it personalises Jesus’ involvement in your situation. It forces you to look at Him, and see Him looking back at you with love and compassion. It reminds you that He has not forgotten you or forsaken you. And that His grace is sufficient both for any mistakes you might have made in the past, and for any challenges you face in the future. Nine times out of ten the church leader then begins applying the gospel to their heart and situation in a wonderful and profound way as the Spirit does His work. (This, by the way, is one of my favourite things about gospel coaching, that you get to sit in and watch this process happen as you simply try to ask some helpful and direct questions.) So I offer it up to you as a question to ask yourself when you’re feeling discouraged or challenged in your life and ministry. WWJS? What would Jesus say if He were having a cup of tea with you right now? You probably know the answer – so listen… 1. I know He is always with us by His Spirit. If you'd like to hear more from Phil, check out an interview with him on our podcast!

Bully Pulpit: Confronting the Problem of Spiritual Abuse in the Church by Michael J. Kruger. Grand Rapids: Zondervan Reflective, 2022. 164 pages. ISBN 9780310136385. Abusive leadership in Christian settings is devastating for its victims and harms the cause of the gospel. Sadly, it is more common than many Christians would like to admit. In this fresh contribution on the subject, Michael J. Kruger sets out to help churches and their leaders to identify “spiritual abuse”, to understand its impact, to stop abusive pastors and to prevent the problem arising. The book’s seven concise chapters offer many revealing insights into abusive leadership and practical pointers in response. After helpfully defining some key terms in his introduction, Kruger’s first chapter identifies the problem of bully pastors. He summarises a few high-profile cases and presents one “paradigmatic case” (from the UK) before asking how this problem can arise in the contemporary church. Kruger acknowledges that we cannot know whether cases are on the increase or simply more likely to be reported than in previous times. He nevertheless suggests some factors that may contribute to the phenomenon: celebrity pastors, emphasising gifts over character, filling leadership boards with ‘yes men’, a misunderstanding of authority, and a posture of defensiveness. Chapter 2 defines “spiritual abuse” as the misuse of a “position of spiritual authority” by a ”spiritual leader” to maintain power and control by manipulating or coercing others. In Chapter 3, Kruger reflects on abusive leadership in light of biblical criteria for leadership. Subsequent chapters consider the reasons why churches do not stop spiritual abuse (Chapter 4), the tactics abusive leaders use to avoid being held to account (Chapter 5), and the effect such abuse has on its victims (Chapter 6). In his final chapter (Chapter 7), Kruger suggests measures churches can take to prevent appointing abusive leaders, to hold leaders to account and to protect those who expose abusive leadership, while his Epilogue adds advice for leaders who are eager not to be abusive. Bully Pulpit flows smoothly from diagnosis of the disease of abusive leadership, through an exploration of its symptoms and consequences, to a proposed course of treatment and preventative measures. Kruger writes with sensitivity and pastoral concern for victims of abusive leadership. His account of their suffering is moving, while his outline of the retaliatory tactics employed by abusive leaders is chilling. I found myself, in equal measure, challenged to examine my own leadership and reminded of painful experiences in my own past. Anyone who opens the book unconvinced of the seriousness of abuses of power in Christian settings could have no remaining doubts by the time they finish reading. Equally helpful are Kruger’s suggestions for creating healthier cultures in churches. In my view, his call for churches to prize character above competency is especially important. To ensure this priority, he suggests that churches should seek comment on the character of candidates to be a pastor from a wider range of people than just the standard referees, including people who have previously worked under him and all the elders of his previous church. This is just one example of several highly practical suggestions from Kruger. Other principles he argues for include prizing team work, establishing accountability, providing real and sincere feedback, and having clear procedures for complaints to be dealt with. There is much here for any church to consider and adapt. Whilst Kruger has provided a helpful analysis of leadership that is clearly abusive, he acknowledges in his Epilogue that some pastors who start with good intentions slide into abusive leadership, but he does not delineate the steps through which that occurs. Marcus Honeysett’s Powerful Leaders (2022, IVP) is a more complete consideration of the categories of misuse of power in churches. Bully Pulpit sits alongside that more foundational book, providing additional insights into the category Honeysett calls “the most serious abuses”. Considering the diagnostic category of “spiritual abuse”, I was not convinced by Kruger’s use of the term. As I reflected on his definition, I realised that is largely because it rests on a concept of “spiritual authority” of which I am uncertain and that he does not define. This lack of clarity about the nature and limits of leaders’ authority is potentially hugely problematic when seeking to identify misuses of power. Without knowing what a leader can legitimately ask people to do, how can we be clear about what constitutes overstepping authority or misusing power? Bully Pulpit emerges from a specific context and recounts real stories that occurred in English speaking countries. Readers outside the USA, or whose churches do not fit into the dominant pastor-led model of church governance among American evangelical churches, will have to work to contextualise Kruger’s proposals. Some may argue that Kruger’s inclusion of true stories of abusive leadership makes the book more engaging, but I felt somewhat uneasy reading brief summaries of complex cases and wondered how fairly the issues and people could be presented in so few words. I felt more confident when Kruger stepped into Scripture and when he drew out generalised principles he had identified across numerous anonymised real-life situations. In the round, Kruger’s treatment of abusive leadership is generally balanced, although his helpful proposals to keep pastors accountable and protect victims could do with matching proposals for the support and development of pastors. There is no excuse for abusive leadership, but the problem of leaders who misuse power cannot be divorced from the issue of churches that mistreat their leaders. A similar concern arose in Kruger’s expectation that leaders will always speak gently. He is surely right to encourage pastors to default to a gentle approach in most pastoral encounters, but he could have said more to clarify the boldness and, at times, sharp rebuke, that is described and expected in Scripture when confronting sin. Clarity about the locus of authority, which is lacking in the book, may help here. If Scripture is clear and forceful, should the leader not be likewise, so long as he or she is clearly resting on the Word and not his or her own will? How can leaders and churches distinguish appropriate rebuke and admonishment from bully tactics amidst a dominant culture in which the greatest ‘sin’ appears to be hurting the feelings of others? Whether you agree or disagree with my concerns about the term “spiritual abuse”, Bully Pulpit is an immensely helpful book on the subject of abusive leadership in churches. It deserves a place in theological college libraries and on the bookshelves of pastors and is a useful resource for churches seeking to prevent or recover from abusive leadership.

Last Sunday, we celebrated Resurrection Day—a high point in the year. In fact, it’s the summit. So what comes afterwards? It’s a hard act to follow. Here is a suggestion, starting with a rather unusual choice of passage. If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! Matt 7.11 If we lived back then, you could imagine a few of us sitting around later discussing this. “That bit about good gifts from our Father in heaven, I loved that.” “Me too. But did you hear what he said?” “What?” “He called us evil.” “Are you sure? I must have missed that.” “Yup. He said, ‘though you are evil.’” “That’s a bit strong, isn’t it?” “I thought so too.” We are evil. Not just bad. Evil. Let’s just take that in for a moment. The Lord calls us evil. It’s such a reminder of how dualistic the Bible is. (Dualistic here doesn’t have to do with balance, as much as distinction or opposition.) Light – Dark Life – Death God – Satan Good- Evil Spirit – Flesh Right – Wrong Love – Hate Church – World And in this dualism, we are described as evil. It’s so far from our modern sensibilities, isn’t it? Nowadays, we like to think of ourselves as a bit of a mixture. Part good, part bad. But given a choice, we often characterise ourselves as good. He’s a good person, we say. So consider this. There are essentially two ways of looking at the world. The problem is out there—in society, government, institutions. We are fundamentally good, but we’re damaged by external forces. The problem is in here—we are evil, and so we damage our governments, institutions and society. Enter the prophet Jeremiah. The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; Who can know it? I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give every man according to his ways, According to the fruit of his doings. Jer 17.9-10 The Lord Jesus doesn’t lack clarity when he simply re-affirms Jeremiah’s observation. Human beings are evil. That doesn’t mean we are incapable of noble acts or good choices, but deep inside, we are idolators and rebels. We are sinners. And that means, in Jesus’ words, we’re evil. Evil. By contrast, God is always described as good and holy. Both of those. What is to become of us? For never the twain shall meet. So let’s follow Simon Peter after the Crucifixion. There he is, reflecting on what’s happened, and one can only imagine that he’s in despair. He has betrayed his Lord. He has fled. He has abandoned his Lord. And he remembers too that his Lord and friend described him as evil. How further down could he go? Which brings us to a party on the lake shore. An after-party. Not only is Simon Peter now sitting with his Lord, who is alive again, he is sharing food with him. Yet the shame weighs heavily on him still. So three times the Lord Jesus asks his friend, “Do you love me?” I, who denied him, who fled, who is evil, even I am invited back in and more than that, He gives me an important job—to feed his sheep. No wonder we sing of grace so much. Our hymns and carols are full of this theme. Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Hail him who saves you by his grace, and crown him Lord of all. Silent night, holy night! Son of God love’s pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face With the dawn of redeeming grace, Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Jesus Lord, at Thy birth Amazing grace! How sweet the sound That saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now am found; Was blind, but now I see. This is amazing grace This is unfailing love That You would take my place That You would bear my cross Grace is the air we breathe, the wind in our sails, the very oxygen of our lives. We are saved by grace and live each day by God’s grace. It is the beginning, middle, and end of all we have in Christ Jesus, for once we were lost, but now we are found. We were blind, but now we see. Little wonder that on that lake shore, Jesus makes grace the major theme of his interaction with his dear friend, Peter. He reinstates him and speaks this deep truth into his heart: I have called you, chosen you, and I forgive you. You, Peter, are the recipient of the extravagant grace of God. Live in it. Live to share it. It turns out, then, that the after-party isn’t a disappointment at all. It’s not a gathering of the deflated after the high of Easter morning. Instead, it is where grace is first shared and then experienced. All made possible by the events of the Easter story. I wonder how much grace is shared among your community. If a stranger spent time with you all, would they conclude, “This is a place where grace and more grace is extended and shared every day”? So, to finish, here are some questions to consider this week. Take some time sitting before the Lord, reflecting on how he is speaking to you. What difference does grace make in my own life? Is there anyone to whom I need to extend grace? What has God taught me during Lent and the Easter period about his grace? May the Lord bless you as you serve him.

Happy Easter! He is Risen! He is risen indeed! Each year, we greet each other with these timeless words. What hope! What joy! And so we rejoice on this most important day of the year—Resurrection Day. Hallelujah! End of post? Not quite. CROSS OR RESURRECTION? The life and death of Jesus is often presented as a means by which God solves our greatest problem—sin. We have a sin problem, we are cut off from our creator, so God sends Jesus to save us. He does this, wonderfully, on the cross, bearing our sin, taking our punishment. Problem solved. But then we’re left with pieces of the story that seem superfluous. What about his life? The early creeds don’t have one single mention of his life. It’s “born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate.” His entire life, all his teaching, everything he accomplished on earth, completely absent. He might as well have hidden in a cave for thirty-three years, and appeared for the last week of his life, to suffer and die. But there’s a further problem, because we are then presented with his Resurrection, and I’m capitalising Resurrection for a purpose. Resurrection, capital R, is often poorly understood, even today. I’ve heard a number of options, all of them incomplete. The Resurrection proves that he was who he claimed to be—the Son of God. The Resurrection showed that he was sinless, because death could not hold him. The Resurrection showed that he had triumphed over death (though the speaker often doesn’t quite know what that means.) None of these responses is wrong. They’re all part of the picture, but they’re inadequate. They don’t express the enormity of what took place on that first Easter Sunday. Because what took place explains why the life of Jesus has relevance; it explains the very nature of what it means for us to be embodied human beings. And not only that, it communicates a message of hope that completely transforms the way we are called to live our lives. STILL UP IN THE CLOUDS Sadly, there are many believers who are hoping for a disembodied life. As the hymn by Sanford Fillmore Bennett states, In the sweet by and by. Indeed, some of our most cherished hymns seem to allude to this hope. Take this section from How Great Thou Art, for example. When Christ shall come with shout of acclimation And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart. Without wanting to ruffle too many feathers, let me just say that I love this hymn. It’s considered one of the greatest for a reason. The poetry is beautiful; it deserves its place among our most treasured favourites. However . . . Take me home. Just three words, but I’m afraid this isn’t Christian hope. The hope of heaven quickly conjures up images of clouds and harps and . . . the indescribable. We’ll be right there with God, being seen by him and seeing him on his throne. It all sounds wonderful, but the bible doesn’t present this as our ultimate hope. Certainly, when we die, our spirits may be in the presence of God—there are actually very few sections of Scripture which describe this—but this isn’t our destiny. That’s not where we’re headed. That’s not our ultimate hope. BROILED FISH Our ideas about the future, God’s future with us, and our ultimate destiny really matter. Either this world is doomed, to be consumed and tossed aside, or remade in some way, restored, re-fashioned to be a place in which God dwells with us as our king. You can’t have both. The key passages are Romans 8 and 1 Corinthians 15. 1 Corinthians deals directly with the Resurrection itself. For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. 1 Cor 15.3-5 Paul hangs the entire Christian faith on an historical event. That’s a bold move. Most religions contain all sorts of interlocking beliefs, some of which might be rejected. Christianity is completely different. It ALL hangs the Resurrection. This is the event that both the apostles and St. Paul believed was the one key event that changed everything. Absolutely everything. Why? Romans 8. This is the chapter in which St. Paul writes about the Spirit. Take verse 11, for example. And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you. Rom 8.11 Notice that the Spirit “gives life to your mortal bodies.” Both Spirit and bodies are in view. Later, he sheds more light on this subject. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. Rom 8.20-23 Physical life, embodied life, is under a curse (Gen 3). Yet one day it “will be liberated from its bondage to decay”. We, as embodied souls, “wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies”. The “already but not yet” of Christian belief is wonderfully expressed here. Yes, we have “the firstfruits of the Spirit” but we’re not there yet. The creation will be “brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God”. God hasn’t given up on this world in which we live. It is not destined for destruction, but renewal. Enter the Resurrection, and all that it shows us. For Christ’s resurrected body gives us a glimpse of life in the new creation—just a glimpse, and with some rather strange elements, but a glimpse, nevertheless. Here’s Luke’s account. While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’ They were startled and frightened, thinking they saw a ghost. He said to them, ‘Why are you troubled, and why do doubts rise in your minds? Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have.’ When he had said this, he showed them his hands and feet. And while they still did not believe it because of joy and amazement, he asked them, ‘Do you have anything here to eat?’ They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it in their presence. Luke 24.36-43 Touch me and see. I have a physical body. They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate it. I have properly functioning body which means my mouth, oesophagus, and stomach are all required to make it work. I’m not just a bag of bones floating around but an integrated system designed to do the same kinds of things that you do. For example, eat. We still live with many Greek ideas, made worse by the Gnostic heresy, which divide physical and spiritual, elevating the latter and sometimes condemning the former as somehow terminally corrupted. But that’s a mistake. Sin hasn’t simply corrupted the physical at all, and the Resurrection demonstrates this clearly. The issue of whether Christ walked through walls is a bit of a red herring. The verse in John (20.19) isn’t clear about that. What is much more important is what we read in 1 Corinthians 15. So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable. 1 Cor 15.42 Resurrection involves bodies, but they are not the same as before. For the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality. When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: ‘Death has been swallowed up in victory.’ 1 Cor 15.53-54 This is our destiny in the new creation—imperishable bodies. An imperishable body isn’t something we can fully understand, but one thing is for certain—it’s a body, not just a spirit. That’s what’s important. And this is what Christ showed us in his Resurrection: a kind of proto-type of a resurrected body. So, when I hear people speculating about “going to heaven when we die”, I despair a little because while it is, of course, wonderful to be united with Christ after death, this isn’t where Christian hope is found. Instead, in theologian Tom Wright’s words, Christian hope is “life after life after death”. It is what follows after death has been fully defeated and Christ returns in triumph. Hence, one of the most glorious passages in Scripture—Revelation 21. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. Rev 21.2 God comes to earth; we don’t ascend to heaven. He comes to make his dwelling place with us, being fully known and experienced by his chosen ones in the new creation. Do I know what this will be like? No, but I look forward to it. Why does this make a difference? Because embodied life has meaning. The Resurrection is a declaration by God that the physical lives we live have meaning and value. That’s why it was essential that Christ lived a human life and didn’t just parachute down to die on a cross. He lived among us in a human body, teaching us about his kingdom, a kingdom in which God’s ways are to be demonstrated by those who worship him, follow him, and love him. Here on earth. Using our bodies. Tom Wright expresses it this way. What you do in the present—by painting, preaching, singing, sewing, praying, teaching, building hospitals, digging wells, campaigning for justice, writing poems, caring for the needy, loving your neighbor as yourself—will last into God’s future. These activities are not simply ways of making the present life a little less beastly, a little more bearable, until the day when we leave it behind altogether. They are part of what we may call building for God’s kingdom. Surprised by Hope. Tom Wright. Resurrection Day. The day when we celebrate God’s triumph over sin, death and the Enemy. It’s also the day when we catch a vision of life in the new creation, one in which we will live together in imperishable bodies. We face terrible suffering here on earth. It is very tempting, therefore, to preach a kind of gospel which tells people that we’ll be able to escape it all. Sometimes we steer very close to the idea that God has made a big mistake, but he’s fixing it by rescuing some from this hell where we live and giving us a future without our painful, wretched bodies that we keep misusing. That isn’t Christian hope. Hope, instead, is expressed when we rejoice in the Resurrection of Jesus, living embodied lives that carry the message of God’s kingdom in every act of compassion and care for the creation he loves. When we love and forgive, are patient, longsuffering, when we go the extra mile, are merciful, make sacrifices for others, when we demonstrate God’s gospel of forgiveness through his Son, this is how we express Christian hope. It’s why our lives matter. Every single second of life matters, because Christ is risen, and he makes all of life meaningful. For it contains the hope of a glorious future, expressed now in love, and received joyfully and in full, when Christ returns in triumph. Not to carry us away, but to live among us by his Spirit. That’s the message of Resurrection Day.

The Book Your Pastor Wishes You Would Read (But is Too Embarrassed to Ask) by Christopher Ash. Epsom: The Good Book Company, 2019. 126 pages. Cover price £5.99. ISBN 9781784983635. Your pastor is a person too, so someone needs to know your pastor and your pastor needs care from you. This is the central claim of this brief and highly readable book from Christopher Ash. Writing as someone who has been both a pastor and, latterly, a church member, Ash aims to help Christians understand the needs of their pastors. The result is a challenging and practical guide to some important principles for care for Christian leaders which will need some thought or help (cue Living Leadership!) to be worked out in practice. After explaining why he wrote the book, Ash presents us with ten pen portraits of fictional pastors that resonate with my experience as a pastor and as a mentor to numerous pastors. It is clear that he understands the kinds of struggles pastors often have, from the sense of never bringing work to completion to the struggles that come from relatively low incomes. Ash then presents his case for why we should care for our pastors – because we have a responsibility to make their work a joy and to help them be motivated to fulfil the task God has given them. The core of the book is seven chapters each of which outlines a virtue that church members can cultivate and display towards their pastors: daily repentance and eager faith, committed belonging, open honesty, thoughtful watchfulness , loving kindness, high expectations and zealous submission. After presenting these, Ash argues that someone needs to know the pastor, suggesting five key areas that will affect the pastor’s attitudes and expectations: upbringing, models of ministry the pastor has experienced, past material lifestyle, personality, and the attitude of the pastor’s spouse if married. Ash writes with clarity and warmth. Reading this book feels like sitting across a coffee table as he shares insights and wisdom. His use of fictional or fictionalised stories throughout the book helps to earth it in reality. In the course exploring his seven virtues, Ash proposes numerous practical ideas for helping pastors. Especially helpful are his comments about reading, conferences, study leave (or sabbaticals), days off and vacations (pp.73-78). I found it especially helpful that he did not only consider this in terms of words of encouragement, noticing the pastor’s needs and responding with acts of kindness, but also setting high expectations of our pastors in their character and behaviour. He also outlines clearly the responsibility of church members to maintain their own spiritual health and to submit to their leaders. This book is calling church members and pastors alike to a relationship of mutual support based on a deep faith in the Lord. It is challenging, practical, and relatable. Ash suggests that “You will be a better Christian in a better church” (p.10) if you read his book (and presumably also put into action what it says). I think he is justified in this claim and, with him, “I want you to read this book … very much” (p.10). My chief criticism of this book is Ash’s assumption that each congregation (what he calls a ‘local church’) will have one senior pastor. This first pops up implicitly, for example when he says that those who cannot remove a false teacher from a pastoral position, “must leave their church” (p.42, italics mine), or, “Even if you have been an associate minister of an assistant pastor, nothing quite prepares you for the day when you are entrusted with senior leadership of a church” (p.49-50, italics mine). His belief in a single senior leader becomes explicit near the end of the book when he writes, “Even with shared leadership, we should let one entrusted with senior leadership actually lead” (p.104). I recognise this is a widely held view, but Ash assumes it rather than arguing for it. Personally, I found it jarred with his references to biblical passages, such as 1 Timothy 5, Hebrews 13 and 1 Peter 5, where leaders are consistently referred to in the plural. I wonder where the biblical case is for a single senior leader and would hope that those who do advocate it could be more clear in exactly what they think the limits of that individual’s authority should be. I suspect some of the problems we face with leadership, and with the experience church members have of leaders, arise from a poor understanding and flawed operation of plurality. I would have liked to hear Ash calling church members to step up to the hard work of shouldering leadership responsibility alongside paid pastors and to encourage their leaders to be truly accountable to a collective team of suitably gifted people. Ash’s focus on the single senior leader led to a few other weaknesses of the book. He assumes that leader will be paid to minister full-time in a congregation, and probably just one congregation at that. The book is less clearly applicable to bivocational pastors, lay elders or ministers with the charge of multiple congregations. In this same vein, I felt Ash was a little too quick to assume that a pastor’s leadership is “entrusted to them by God” (p.68) without considering the degree to which it is also affirmed by the Church (whether a congregational vote or a bishop’s anointing) and therefore accountable to it. This high view of divinely appointed leadership leads to a lack of differentiation in his chapter on submission between legitimate authority and illegitimate use of power. Ash argues that if a leader’s vision is not ungodly, then “We need to learn gladly to submit to the gospel authority of our pastors as they lead our churches” (p.107-108). I find the phrase “gospel authority” here confusing. I would assume it should refer to a pastor’s authority to command obedience to the gospel and to Scripture (as in Titus 2:15), but that a leader’s call to commit to his ideas that are not explicitly commanded in Scripture must carry a lesser level of authority. I think this is a distinction that wise leaders and careful churches will be eager to make and that leaders should think carefully about the degree of uniformity of commitment to their visions they expect from their members. In drawing this review to a close, I am aware that my comments on the book’s limitations emerge from the fact that my work in Living Leadership brings me up close to the things that go wrong when leaders overstep their authority or when churches do not care well for their leaders. This ministry involvement that makes me glad that Ash has written this helpful book, but also makes me eager for it to be integrated with other books and resources that can tease out what Ash does not. My colleague Marcus Honeysett’s book Powerful Leaders? is the best resource I know for distinguishing legitimate authority from misuses of power in leadership. I am more hesitant about suggesting where greater clarity may be found on plurality in leadership as that question is inseparable from one’s view of church governance. I do think, however, that all churches could benefit from a better understanding and more robust operation of collective leadership whether our plurality is within the congregation or within denominational oversight of the congregation. This book does a great job of highlighting a problem and pointing readers towards some ways to put it right. Ash urges us not merely to read it but to make changes as a result (p.122). It is at this point that Living Leadership can help you, in two chief ways. Firstly, we can provide your leaders with the support they need to maintain their joy in faithful service for the Lord through our Pastoral Refreshment Conferences, Refreshment Days and Refresh Network Online as well as personalised mentoring and care as needed. Secondly, our Leadership Commitments Scheme is designed expressly to help churches and organisations towards increasingly healthy cultures of mutual responsibility and care between leaders and people. It centres on Codes of Best Practice in both leader conduct and leader care which provide a standard you can commit to and members receive access to helpful toolkits to work these commitments out in practice. Living Leadership is a vehicle that can help those who get the message of The Book Your Pastor Wishes You Would Read move forward to a better place.

As we approach Good Friday and Easter Sunday, some brief thoughts on this most powerful of stories. Let’s begin in the garden. GARDEN Then Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to his disciples, “Sit here, while I go over there and pray.” And taking with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death; remain here, and watch with me.” And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” Matt 26.36-39 Last year, I had the privilege of visiting Israel. We spent a day in Jerusalem, a location that my father-in-law (a retired missionary) had wanted to visit all his life. We visited the garden, and it was a disappointment. To quote from a previous post . . . The trees are very old—around eight hundred years—but there are hardly more than ten left. The reason? They’ve built churches and religious buildings all over the place. The Basilica of the Agony is a huge structure right next to the garden. And then there’s the Tomb of the Virgin on the other side. Much has changed in the past two thousand years. I had imagined a large, tree-filled space in which we could wander. Instead, in the church, you can kneel next to the rock where Jesus is believed to have wept his tears of agony. I’m sure you can donate to the church also. Postcard from Israel But let’s return to the passage. Jesus tells his disciples that his soul is “very sorrowful, even to death.” This is an insight into an emotional man. Never let it be said that Jesus was some buttoned up stiff-upper-lip ascetic who held it all in. Keep calm and carry on! Not Jesus. He got angry, cried, became frustrated and showed us in many ways that emotions are innately human. He joined us in our humanity, and there are few things more human than weeping. I love him for this. I just love that he has felt as I feel. He understands perfectly what I feel, not because he is me, but because he made me human, in the divine image, and has felt the whole gamut of human emotions in a human body. The tightening of the stomach, the stinging tears, the ache inside, all those physical responses that we feel, he has been there. So I do not weep alone. He weeps with me. TRIAL Before the trial, the arrest. In that hour Jesus said to the crowd, ‘Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? Every day I sat in the temple courts teaching, and you did not arrest me. But this has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled.’ Then all the disciples deserted him and fled. Matt 26.55-56 This has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled. Over and over, Jesus reminds his followers that his path is decided. Things must happen a certain way. It has been prophesied. So Jesus lived his life in a particular way, one already mapped out for him. Right now, I’m listening to the Harry Potter novels through Audible, read by the inimitable Stephen Fry. In the final book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, we find these memorable lines. “So the boy…the boy must die?” asked Snape quite calmly. “And Voldemort himself must do it, Severus. That is essential.” Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. J.K. Rowling There are dozens of similarities between Harry Potter and the Christian gospels. Harry frequently exhibits Christ-like attributes and the story culminates, of course, in some dramatic final scenes during which he dies, returns, and triumphs over his adversary, Voldemort. Yet in the quote above, the similarity relates to his destiny. Harry doesn’t know it, but his destiny is being overseen by a father-figure in Albus Dumbledore, a god-like character, who declares that he must die. His death is planned, and the actions of both Snape and Dumbledore are required to ensure it happens. In the gospels, Christ’s self-knowledge far exceeds Harry Potter’s. He knows what’s coming, submitting to his father and the Scriptures that outline the path he is to take. He submits himself to his destiny. It is one of the most remarkable things about the Lord Jesus, that in every moment of the Passion narrative, he willingly chooses to lay down his life. He has completely surrendered to his destiny—to be the sacrificial lamb foretold many centuries before. Oh the beauty of such a life, and oh how often we struggle to follow in his footsteps. For instead of submitting to our submissive Christ, we continue to rail against him, complaining, and rebelling, and thinking we know best. We always need to be wary not to sit in judgement over the Scriptures, assessing whether our God has acted according to our modern sensibilities. So, some devotional questions to consider. Am I guilty of judging God? Do I submit to his ways? This year, what is God teaching me about himself through the Passion narratives? CROSS There they offered Jesus wine to drink, mixed with gall; but after tasting it, he refused to drink it. When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. And sitting down, they kept watch over him there. Above his head they placed the written charge against him: this is jesus, the king of the jews. . . In the same way the chief priests, the teachers of the law and the elders mocked him. ‘He saved others,’ they said, ‘but he can’t save himself! He’s the king of Israel! Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God. Let God rescue him now if he wants him, for he said, “I am the Son of God.”’ In the same way the rebels who were crucified with him also heaped insults on him. Matt 27.34-37; 41-44 Did you notice that? When they had crucified him, they divided up his clothes by casting lots. Scholars differ in their opinions, but many believe that Christ was crucified naked. Completely naked. It was part of the humiliation, and must have been excruciating. These hours on the cross are situated right at the heart of the Christian faith. Sometimes I think the theological implications of these events overwhelm our appreciation for the depth of suffering taking place. The physical agony we know about. Movies have shown it in agonising detail. But lest we forget, what takes place in those three hours is a profound and mysterious agony for God and wrenching dislocation for Creation. And it is done willingly for our sakes. This is our God, who went through a kind of torment that we will never truly understand nor appreciate. How great the Father’s love, we sing. Indeed. What grace, what mercy, when Christ took upon himself our sin and its penalty. No greater agony can be imagined. Yet he did this for you. And for me. As you meditate on the Passion this year, may you see its truth and wonder with new eyes. Pray both for eyes to see and ears to hear. He loves you. Oh, he loves you with a love far beyond your imagining. Worship him today.

I identify as . . . fill in the blank. Just reading those words might make you cringe. Or blanch. Or cause your hackles to rise. I was chatting with my son the other day and he said something very interesting. He pointed out to me that the gender identity issue is akin to the way C.S. Lewis describes the Christian worldview. I have often mentioned this quote at home, so he knows it well. I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else. Dad, it’s the same now with gender. Young people see the whole world through the prism of their gender identity. It’s that important. He may not have used the word “prism”, but you get the idea. The catastrophe that occurred when our culture split gender from biological sex is something all leaders are facing. But I’m not writing on that today. Instead, I’d like to focus on these two questions: Why is identity so important? Why is belonging so important? Since time immemorial, we have given ourselves badges. We have slapped labels on ourselves to give ourselves meaning. It’s very natural. These badges, however, are always subsumed by something greater than ourselves. We don’t just need badges, we need to belong. We group ourselves together with others who wear the same badge. Just go to a game of football. BADGES When I grew up, I knew what my badges were. I was, A boy A Collins – son, brother, nephew etc A pupil from X school British with a Norwegian mother (hence my flashy middle name) In time, I was introduced to Jesus. I became one of his followers and suddenly, my badges needed to be prioritised in a completely different way. I started with this one. I am one of God’s children, dearly loved. (John 1.12) As I grew in faith and learned more, my Christian identity expanded. I came to see that I had a large array of different badges. A member of the church A recipient of grace and mercy A forgiven sinner A human being fearfully and wonderfully made A human being destined for glory A brother to fellow believers A minister of reconciliation A Spirit-filled believer All of these identities are developments on a theme, but they are all incredibly important. Indeed, I’m not sure we can answer the question, “What am I for?” until we’ve answered the question, “Who am I?” It is fundamental to human flourishing. Without a clear answer, we will always struggle. Often when I meet those outside the church who are struggling with life, it’s clear that they simply don’t know who they are. Everything they’re chasing is an attempt to feel like they matter in some way, and to do that, you need to know who you are. So, I’m sure you know most of these, but here is a list of verses that describe a Christian identity. Gen 1.27 – Made in God’s image Ps 139.13-14 – Fearfully and wonderfully made Eph 2.10 – God’s workmanship Rom 12.6-8 – Gift-bearer I Cor 6.19 – Temple of the Holy Spirit 2 Cor 5.17 – New creation—in Christ 1 Cor 12.27 – Member of the body of Christ Rom 8.1 – Forgiven sinner Gal 3.26 – A son of God through faith John 15.16 – Chosen by God 1 John 3.1 – Child of God This list isn’t exhaustive. It isn’t even half-way to describing our multiple identities that all revolve around our primary identity: Forgiven children of God. It all starts at the cross. So far, so Sunday morning, right? Probably half the sermons you preach have something to do with identity, and rightly so. Can the assertion of our identity solve all our problems? No, but at the very minimum, it’s a good place to start when helping people face their struggles. I don’t advocate slapping a Bible verse on every problem, but I do think it’s helpful to remind a believer of all the resources we have in Christ. BELONGING Is identity enough? Well, no. Not unless it’s combined with our belonging. In our radically individualistic culture, it’s interesting that we cannot escape the desire to belong. We need others. We yearn for the affirmation that comes from being a member of a group. This is really where the Christian faith comes into its own. It is a radically communal faith. Indeed, first-century Jewish culture had very little room for the individual. They thought almost exclusively in collective terms. When I was in seminary, I remember my favourite professor telling me, “You read the story of Joseph and you see a brave young man triumphing against the odds. That’s because you’re modern and Western. The Jewish reader? All they see is their nation wrapped up in the destiny of this one man. If he falls, then we all fall. No individual. Just group.” For the Jews—family, village, tribe, nation. All groups. It's hard to over-emphasise the importance of belonging. No wonder John Donne’s words are so well-known: No man is an island. We are more like ants . . . than ants themselves! Without others, we die. We must belong. Somehow. And this brings us back to badges. We either belong to others with the same badge by birth, or we seek out others who choose the same badge as us. BY BIRTH I’m a Collins. I can’t change that. We don’t choose our families, and in truth, many of our most painful problems come from our family backgrounds. They are also a source of our greatest joys. Family life is both a huge blessing and for some, a curse. We also don’t choose when we’re born or where. I am British. I can’t choose to be born French. BY CHOICE As we grow, however, we soon become aware that we can choose to belong to groups we like. We can follow Liverpool F.C. or a writer’s group, or a charity we support. One of the most powerful drivers among those who prioritise their gender identity is the yearning to belong to a group. Non-binary isn’t just a statement of a gender identity, (however confused this might be) it’s a means of seeking others who identify similarly. It’s driven by the hope of finding others who share the same struggles; it’s driven by a profound desire to belong. And this is the real point of this post. The gender identity debate tells us that we, as human beings, are desperate for both identity and belonging. Our world seeks an answer to the question “Who am I?” and it finds its answer in “A group with whom I can identify.” My first answer above was “child of God”. It’s little wonder, because I’m modern and Western. But the badge I wear is just the beginning. It’s the belonging where the power lies. It’s the belonging that answers the question “what am I for?” Child of God, as wonderful as that is, doesn’t tell you what you’re for. It tells you who you are, but you need belonging to tell you what you’re for. In short, you need the church. You need the church not just to give you a sense of belonging, but also to create the environment in which you can flourish as a Christ-follower. Sure, some are called to be itinerant preachers—Wild West Christian cowboys—taking the gospel to the ends of the earth. But they are rare. And in truth, they aren’t on their own at all. They are supported by a network of others who give financially and pray for them. We’re all connected, hence the body metaphor in Scripture. BELONGING It’s a little ironic, isn’t it, that the gender debate should remind us of our need to belong? The church is being rattled by this fractious debate, and yet it contains a bright silver lining. It is shouting, “I want to belong.” Indeed, it is crying out, “I want to be loved. I want to belong.” The church has an answer to that cry. We live in a radically individualistic age, in which we worship personal autonomy. When a visitor arrives on your doorstep, do you wait until they make themselves known, “giving them space” to initiate? Or do you reach out to embrace a fellow believer and show them where they might start to belong in your community? Belonging is not just a warm fuzzy feeling. It’s not enough for church members to say, “well, I’m a child of God like everyone else.” Belonging needs more than that. We want to know that we have a role, a place, an identity within the community. This is why courses that help identify the gifts within each church member, so they can be developed for the glory of God within a community, can be helpful. When you look out over your congregation this Sunday, I wonder whether you see a community in which each person has a clear sense of belonging? Not just “I attend X church” belonging, but “My leader(s) know(s) the gifts I bring, and is seeking to develop them” belonging. Perhaps belonging is even delegated down so that a whole team of people is helping others find their place in the church. Belonging for Christians isn’t an added extra. It is intrinsic to how we see ourselves when we look in the mirror. We don’t just need an identity “in Christ”. We need that identity, that badge, to find expression within our community. That, for Christians, is belonging. For only when we develop our gifts and grow together in our shared knowledge of the grace of God do our badges and belonging fuse into one. For believers, our badges only have meaning when they’re celebrated, developed, grown, challenged, and encouraged within our belonging. When our particular kind of “in Christ” badge finds its place. That’s belonging. What a calling it is to be a leader in God’s church! Badges and belonging. For every one of your church members. The Lord bless you as you help your people to find joy in both their badge and their belonging.

In the church tradition in which I grew up, there was little talk about being a “member” of the local church. As believers, we were assumed to be “members” of Christ’s body—the global church—but it was felt that a more intimate expression of togetherness was needed for the local church. So we opted for “fellowship”. We spoke of “being in fellowship”. Similarly, we didn’t usually provide hospitality but rather we would invite guests to have “fellowship” in the home. A very specific usage of “fellowship” related to the financial gift given to a visiting speaker. This was usually limited to covering expenses, but sometimes a gift was given to express “fellowship”. This usually meant that the money was more than just to cover expenses. Nowadays, I have come to rely more on these expressions of fellowship! On a less encouraging note, the word “fellowship” was sometimes used to communicate our insular nature. A person who spoke at other denominations was considered to be going “outside the fellowship”. How we use and misuse language sometimes. You can see that the term in my very confused brain was conditioned by my specific denominational upbringing. It spoke of intimacy but also of exclusivity. You can imagine my surprise, therefore, when I started to study the New Testament for myself, and especially when I grew in my knowledge of the Greek used by its authors. In my weird system of visual thinking, I had come to associate—wrongly—"fellowship” with giving money. This misunderstanding was exacerbated by the Greek word for fellowship—koinonia. The first part of that word sounds very much like “coin”. In my West of Scotland accent I would say, “Have you got coin oan ya?” (Best understood when spoken out loud!) Yes, I confess this was a foolish way to interpret Greek of the first century. An aid for memory isn’t the best way to land on the right meaning of a word. In fact, some might even accuse me of thinking like a stereotypical tight Scotsman! KOINONIA I have been thinking a lot about the breadth of the word, and the teaching of the New Testament. Here’s the apostle John writing about koinonia. This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. If we say we have fellowship (κοινωνία—koinōnia) with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin. 1 John 1.5-7 A beautiful duality is presented in the text about our fellowship with God and our fellowship with each other. But did you notice that the term is, in both cases, fellowship “with”? It communicates that we have our own identity while also telling us that we have a partnership, we act together. That’s a beautiful idea, isn’t it? We don’t lose our individuality but it’s made richer and more beautiful by our “fellowship” with God and with others. What a remarkable truth. The apostle Peter uses a related word, koinonos, in one of his letters. His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers (κοινωνός— koinōnos) of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. 2 Peter 1.3-4 That opens up a whole new meaning for us, doesn’t it? We become those who share something in common with another. We become part of each other. We were introduced into this “divine nature” at the time of conversion through the generating power of the Holy Spirit, who gives us life. Then, as we live in the enjoyment of God's precious and magnificent promises, we are conformed more and more into His image so that we become more like him (2 Cor 3.18). The Holy Spirit changes us into the likeness of Jesus from one degree of glory to another. Ancient false teachers (the Gnostics) and more recent ones (Eastern mystics and New Age gurus of all sorts) have often emphasised the importance of attaining transcendent knowledge. But the apostle Peter stressed to his readers that only when we are born anew by God’s Spirit are we able to share in God’s nature. The false prophets of Peter’s day believed that transcendent knowledge elevated people above the need for morality. But Peter countered that notion by asserting that genuine knowledge of God through Christ gives believers all they need to live godly lives. Including ordinary blokes like me. And ordinary people like you. Peter was writing for Greek readers in particular, so he frames this argument in terms of nature, which might be confusing. He doesn’t wish to state that human beings become God. Of course not. Instead, his focus is on the moral change within the believer’s heart and life. As the first man, Adam, was made in the image of God, but something even more marvelous happens through the renewal of the Holy Spirit. We are in a yet diviner sense made in the image of the Most High, and are partakers of the divine nature. (C .H. Spurgeon. Morning and Evening.). METECHO In Hebrews 2:14-15, we read, Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook (μετέχω—metechō) of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery. In the previous verse, the writer has just described the “children God has given” to Jesus, which refers to believers. They are children of God (see John 1.12-13 and 1 John 3.1). The idea is that since His children are human, Jesus had to become human in order to be their Redeemer (1 Peter 1.18-19). There is a word the writer could have used—koinoneo. It marks the sharing of the common fleshly nature (which must include the sin of Adam). The writer instead used metechō (took part of) which describes that Jesus took hold of human nature in the incarnation and held it to Himself as an additional nature. By doing this, He is associating Himself with the human race in its possession of flesh and blood, yet without its sin. He took to Himself something with which by nature He had nothing in common (metechō) - that is, flesh and blood. Whereas human beings possess human nature in common with one another (koinoneo), yet the Son of God took upon himself something that was not natural to Him. One of the requirements of a redeemer in the Old Testament was that one must be related to those for whom the redemption is undertaken. Jesus, our nearest Kinsman-Redeemer, took upon Himself our nature, in order that He might die in our place. In doing so, he paid the price of redemption, which in turn liberates us to take hold of the divine nature, which does not naturally belong to us. That is a remarkable truth. In fact, it is so remarkable that it should cause us to bow down in worship. What took place at Christmas was something well beyond our understanding. Here, I am barely scratching the surface of its wonder. The Son of God put on flesh, yet without sin. (John 1.14) He laid aside his glory to join us in an earthly body, and partook—metechō—of our flesh so that we could have fellowship—koinōnia—with God and with one another. The Greek word “fellowship” is so much more than just a word to describe what happens when we come together as the church, wonderful though that is. It certainly goes beyond any thoughts about monetary gifts. The word describes the miracle of Jesus becoming human but also the miracle of the new birth where we become part of God’s extended family. My own personal journey with this one word, koinōnia, has changed how I see both my place in this world and my role in God’s family. I have discovered that I am not simply called to have fellowship with, but experience fellowship in. I’m called to partake in God’s nature—koinōnos. And as I’ve studied the word metechō, so the wonder has grown. The Son of God took on a new nature, one that joins him to me, and to all of us. He became a human being, yet without sin. Our fellowship with each other is founded upon Christ’s metechō, his partaking of our nature so that he could redeem it and make us new. Allow these thoughts to lead you to worship today.

Meet Pastor Dave Feel-A-Lot. Each Sunday, he talks about his problems from the pulpit. Here’s a typical example. It’s been a hard week, everyone. You know it’s hard when all your appliances keep breaking—(mild titters from the congregation)—fridge, freezer, washing machine. What did I do, Lord? Just send me some fire and brimstone, it would be so much simpler. (More subdued laughter). But seriously, it’s been difficult because my mum is ill right now, and . . . (begins to choke up) well, do pray for her, she’s going in for surgery next week. Okay, let’s turn to Mark chapter 1 . . . Now meet Rev. Steve Zipped-Up. I don’t have a quote from him, because he never shares anything about his life with his congregation. He’s quite a good preacher, but there is never, ever, a reference to anything personal. Nothing about his family; nothing about his interests; nothing about his background. It’s hard, in fact, to work out what he does enjoy in life. Oh, he’s clearly devoted to his God—that’s not in question—but beyond that, most of the congregation knows very little about Steve. I have attended churches led by both a Pastor Dave and a Rev. Steve. They represent two leadership styles; they offer two radically different ways of approaching the sensitive subject of “vulnerability.” So let’s start with some questions. How vulnerable should a leader be? What is healthy vulnerability? What is not? In a faith which teaches “My power is made perfect in weakness”, just how much weakness should leaders demonstrate to the people they lead? In response, it’s helpful to consider one of the buzzwords in church nowadays: authenticity. We’re told that authenticity is important. But what is it? I think it’s a good idea to come at this word with the goal of avoiding its negative. We should never be inauthentic. In other words, we shouldn’t be projecting a false image of ourselves. So, while it’s true that we all wear masks, we should avoid a mask which has little to do with what’s behind it. That’s hypocritical, and we know what Jesus thinks of hypocrites. But this still leaves us with the question, “What does it mean to be authentic?” It doesn’t necessarily mean that we are required to divulge every personal family secret, does it? Surely that would be unwise. Authenticity doesn’t increase simply by revealing lots of personal details. Instead, I think authenticity increases when people catch a glimpse of our hearts. In the church, that means we should invite people into our spiritual journey. Into both the ups and the downs. We shouldn’t be hesitant about confessing to our struggles. Though I don’t like this expression, I can’t avoid it here: Be real. Be honest. Show you care. But of course, this is where we enter the world of vulnerability. If we’re to “be real”, don’t we run the risk that we’ll reveal too much, that we’ll act in ways that aren’t helpful? Certainly. So let’s consider the lives of Jesus and the apostle Paul. Both men were leaders. Both men exhibited vulnerability to their followers. Both have something to teach us. PAUL CONTENT – How much information should I share? How much is too much? What guidelines might be helpful? When we read Paul’s letters, we are made aware of his struggles, but notice that he is often vague about the details. 2 Cor. 12 is a good example. So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. 2 Cor 12.7 What is Paul’s “thorn in the flesh”? We’re never told. He keeps it vague. I think this is very good advice for leaders. When sharing our struggles, we should not go into detail, but instead, we should focus on what we’re learning in order to encourage others. Notice that Paul’s focus is clear: “To keep me from becoming conceited.” That’s the message of this section. There will always be those who want “the gory details”, but they are rarely helpful. They can lead to gossip. The church would not be better off knowing what the “thorn” was. And church members don’t need to know names, dates and other private details. They need to know what the leader has learned so they can learn too. Elsewhere, however, it’s clear that Paul wants some of his followers to know him at a deeper level. He writes to Timothy about this. You, however, have followed my teaching, my conduct, my aim in life, my faith, my patience, my love, my steadfastness, my persecutions and sufferings that happened to me at Antioch, at Iconium, and at Lystra—which persecutions I endured; yet from them all the Lord rescued me. 2 Tim 3.10-11 Timothy, you have watched the way I live my life. Is that not vulnerability? To invite a follower to observe how you live your life? Yet again, the focus is on what Timothy is to learn about God—"yet from them all the Lord rescued me.” There are times when all of us need to unburden ourselves. We need accountability, and we need support. We need to be able to share our inner struggles with people who love us. That’s why we in Living Leadership recommend that all leaders should have some kind of accountability to an individual or group (two or three others) with whom they meet regularly. If we do this, we are far less likely to seek affirmation in inappropriate ways from our community. The well-supported leader doesn’t exhibit vulnerability in order to gain sympathy. The well-supported leader is authentic, but never reveals inappropriate details. What about motivation? When preparing to speak to someone (or a group) about something personal, there are three key questions: What is my motive? Is this helpful to the people I serve? Might I be straying into manipulation? It is extremely easy to fool ourselves. It doesn’t take much before some of us are sharing our inner lives in a way that engenders sympathy or pity. Pastor, that sounds awful. However, when you read Paul’s words about his “thorn in the flesh”, his approach is quite different. It’s clear that Paul has no interest in anyone’s pity. He simply uses his painful experience to teach and encourage. His focus is entirely on what the experience will teach others. Hence the wonder of this verse we all know so well. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Cor 12.9 MANNER – Is Paul an emotional man? Of course he is! He lets rip at times. Just ask the Galatians and the Corinthians who both get an earful. Paul clearly has no problem with revealing just how much he cares. For Paul, it’s all about the truth of the gospel. Hence his explosive letter to the Galatians. The same should apply to us. If we show we care about the gospel, then it’s natural that we will, at times, show our emotions. But again, it’s important to remember those questions above, especially this one: Is this helpful to the people I serve? JESUS CONTENT – Jesus is rather an exception, since he never had cause to share as we do. He never had to cope with shame or guilt. He did, however, call together a close group of friends and become their rabbi. In the first century, rabbis and their followers spent their lives in close proximity. The whole idea was that a follower, or disciple, would both watch and listen. Wisdom from the rabbi’s teaching was then implemented in the rabbi’s life. And the disciple would watch it all. They were invited into both life and teaching—warts and all. This was Jesus’ vulnerability. It’s one of the things that makes him so extraordinary. He was observed at close quarters for around three years, and yet his followers never found any sin in him. He stood apart. But just look at him as he approaches the cross. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” Mark 14.34 Right as he enters his period of greatest suffering, he shares with his friends. He opens himself up to show them how difficult it is to walk the path before him. That’s vulnerability of the highest order. Again, in John’s gospel, in his high priestly prayer, his heart is entirely exposed. Here he shows his vulnerability because he offers himself so completely to those he loves. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world. And for their sake I consecrate myself, that they also may be sanctified in truth. John 17.17-19 (It’s worth reading all of John 17) The vulnerability of Christ is not about his struggles with sin, it is expressed most often in the way he communicates his love. He invites his followers to see his heart. When he says he loves them, they believe him. Completely. Because he’s authentic. MANNER – How did Jesus deal with his emotions? By displaying them. He wept, he was angry, and at times, he was disappointed. How interesting that at his lowest moment, he wanted his buddies to be near him. Yet when they fell asleep, he didn’t throw a pity party. He was always true to the emotion running through him. Sadness. Disappointment. Joy. Even anger. Those money-lenders certainly felt the sharp edge of his tongue. He demonstrated the whole gamut, then, but without any intention to manipulate. That’s authenticity. So there you are on Sunday and the story you’re telling starts to pull on your emotions. You choke up. That’s okay. It’s okay to cry once in a while. It’s not okay to weep in order to trigger pity or sympathy. That’s manipulation. But as long as your focus is on the good of your people, their growth, their benefit, and as long as the story is intended to teach them something valuable about the God they serve, then a few tears are not a problem. Later, you’re telling a story about something from your past. It involves some school friends, but you decide to omit names and dates. You leave out the exact details, because they will only distract people from the message of the story. Instead, you focus on what you learned from the experience, and best of all, you speak about the grace and mercy of God, his provision, his goodness, his enduring love. So when the story is over, there is just one focus: the Lord Jesus Christ. You have shared something intimate and painful, but the listeners are left gazing at the cross, at the one who brings healing and who walks with them through their struggles and their temptations. Your vulnerability has been given a purpose: To glorify God. That’s as it should be. *Other leadership titles are available, but the writer of this post likes alliteration.

Editor’s Note: I was very encouraged to receive this post from Phil. The following is a joint effort—Phil’s thoughts with some input from me. Most of all, however, please hear Phil’s voice on this subject. As a leader “in the trenches”, he speaks from personal experience. Here’s our post: But we came here to hear you preach. Just eight words, but eight words that are very revealing. And not in a good way. Indeed, they cut to the heart of what we so often get wrong in our theology of preaching. Because, let’s face it . . . What leader doesn’t want to hear such words? You want to hear me preach? Why, thank you so much! But hold on, because something is not right here. What’s going on when someone says this to a leader? I had cause to consider this question recently when a friend who is contemplating church planting asked about our own church planting experience. First, a word about my own approach to ministry. I had always seen the heart of my role as a pastor in the words of Ephesians 4. So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Eph. 4.11-13 To equip the saints for works of service. There it is. There’s my job description. So even though we were only a small group of twenty-five or so, I set up a preaching group. What better way to fulfil my calling to “equip the saints for works of service”? I believe strongly in the call to “equip the saints” so this is something I have done wherever I have been involved in ministry, and I have always found it immensely rewarding. There can be downsides, of course. It has meant that some of the sermons from the trainees have been a bit rough and ready. Perhaps not as bad as my first sermon. If you had heard that, you would never have asked me to preach again! Preaching is a gift that only grows through its use. You cannot improve without actually practising the gift. As a result, we discovered that one or two had different gifts and needed to drop out of the group. However, most grew in their abilities, and this was wonderful to see. Back to those eight words . . . But we came here to hear you preach. This came from a couple who had joined our church plant and didn’t really get this part of our DNA. So they complained to me with the words you read above. Now I don’t know exactly what was going on in their hearts when they uttered those eight words. However, there were several things going on in mine. The first was a sense of smug pride. Good. They like my preaching. Well done me. But the more I reflected on their words, the more I realised what was wrong with my heart response, and as far as I could read it, with theirs. Here, then, are some lessons for both hearer and preacher alike. HEARER, HUMBLE YOURSELF Why do we listen to sermons? To hear God speak. Plain and simple. Though God uses the gift of communication and the personality of the preacher, this should not be our focus. This is not why we come to church. We should be coming to hear God speak—not to hear the wit or wisdom of the preacher, but to hear the living Word of God as He speaks by His Spirit through His Word. If we’re coming to hear a particular preacher, then we’re coming for the wrong reasons. That was why we rarely used to publicise who would be preaching on any given Sunday. If we’re coming to hear God speak, and if we believe that He does so by His Spirit and through His Word, then it follows that we can be fed and encouraged by “terrible sermons.” I know this for a fact, since I have preached some very shoddy sermons. It has encouraged me no end to hear that God, by his grace, has still spoken to people through them. I love the phrase that someone once shared with me: The mature Christian is easily edified. If we’re coming to a gathering longing for and expecting God to speak, then we are very likely to hear His voice. The challenge for us as hearers is not to harden our hearts. I have listened to thousands of sermons over the years, and I know that my own spiritual health is a critical element which often determines how much I get out of any sermon. As a preacher myself, there is always a terrible risk that in my pride I will be judging the sermon (and the preacher) rather than humbly sitting under God’s Word. So, listener—humble yourself. We come to hear God speak. PREACHER, HUMBLE YOURSELF I suspect that most of us who preach regularly have far too high an opinion of our preaching gifts, and far too low a view of God’s sovereignty in speaking to His people and building His church. The longer I’ve served in ministry, the more I’ve come to understand that my preaching belongs to Him—it is His work—and I can trust Him. Of course, I still work hard and try to be as well-equipped as I can be. But as I enter the pulpit, the words in my mind are “I believe in the Holy Spirit, I believe in the Holy Spirit.”[1] Because unless He is working, then I am waffling on in vain. It puts me in mind of Numbers 22.28. If God can speak through a donkey’s mouth, He doesn’t need me or you! As Exodus 4.11 reminds us, God is the one who gave human beings mouths. He is able to achieve what he wants with them. Preacher, surely the gospel makes it clear. We live to glorify God. So, humble yourself. We want to hear God’s voice not yours. Does this mean we are absolved from working hard to study God’s Word and prepare our sermons? Of course not. Indeed, according to 2 Timothy 2.15, we are encouraged to “rightly handle the word of truth.” Two more Scriptures are helpful here. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us. Eph. 3.20 If his power is at work in us, when we rise to speak, we know that He is working, He is speaking through us. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me. Col. 1.29 How encouraging to know that the energy within us comes from the Lord Jesus. Notice, however, that Paul says “I strenuously contend.” (In other translations, we read, “striving” or “struggling”.) Effort on the part of the preacher is expected but Paul argues that this striving, contending, struggling is with the energy Christ works within us. Imagine that. We prepare. We speak. We strive. We struggle. But He’s right there within us. He will have His way, and He will speak. Of that we can be sure. THE FRUIT OF OUR LABOURS Who produces the fruit of our labours? The farmer sows the seed and harvests, but God sends the soil, the water, the nutrients and of course, the sunshine. We work; God causes the crop to grow. When you feel overwhelmed, when you’ve not managed to prepare quite as well as you would have liked, be encouraged. There is no need to be anxious. If they have come to hear you speak, they are there for the wrong reason. But if they have come to hear God, then He will speak. He always speaks to those with ears to hear, with those of humble heart eager to hear His voice. After all, if He can speak through a donkey, He can speak through you. 1. The prayer that Spurgeon reportedly prayed every time he entered the pulpit.