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When was the last time you felt really listened to? In the last month, when has someone asked how you are and as you replied, you felt they genuinely cared about your answer? Perhaps you’ve received real care because the listener has avoided turning the conversation back to their own cares and worries, but instead has listened carefully and patiently. I think we all recognise the value of good listening. And we know when it’s done well. At the end of the conversation, we feel valued, and our thoughts have become clearer. The tangles have been straightened out. I saw the benefits when I worked as a careers adviser to teenagers. My job was to conduct one-to-one interviews in schools and colleges with young people aged 13-19 years. For a small number of those young people, it was half an hour out of a lesson they hated, and they spent the time surreptitiously checking their phone until it was over. They also managed to take the most circuitous route back to class in order to miss as much of that class as possible. For others, however, it was clearly an unexpected gift. Here I was, offering half an hour of what one psychologist calls ‘unconditional positive regard’[1]. Without interruptions. They would unburden their dreams to me, along with their hopes and some of the challenges they saw ahead. They revelled in the fact they were not being judged and many (although not all) would walk out of that interview room having a clearer picture of their next steps in life. I don’t want to paint a picture that all that was required was a space to talk. Guidance skills alongside active listening and relevant information were also needed to help these teenagers. I also don’t want to underplay the very necessary training that counsellors and guidance professionals must undergo to help those struggling with more complex emotional and psychological needs. However, I do think that listening well is immensely valuable. It’s also a dying art. My husband and I pastor people in our local church and those in ministry. We both recognise the huge value in offering people a space to talk and find a listening ear. Listening, however, isn’t just the act of hearing another person speak. LISTENING IS A SKILL Good listening is a skill. It takes real discipline to avoid jumping in with our own agenda. We can be prone, at times, to think we fully understand what another person is feeling. We don’t. In addition, there’s often a strong temptation to liken another person’s situation to our own. Having done that, the next step we’re in danger of taking is to hand out advice in an attempt to solve their problems. Frankly, there are times when we want to ‘fix’ them. As my husband and I have grown in our understanding, however, we’ve begun to realise that this isn’t helpful. In fact, it can be harmful. A young pastor’s wife admitted to me recently that she had nothing to offer in her church because she wasn’t very good at talking to people, or knowing what to say when people unburdened themselves to her. She and her husband had just taken up a new post and here she was, on the verge of a new ministry, feeling like she had nothing to give. I wanted to encourage her that what people most often need is to feel listened to, not ‘solved’. The value she has the potential to bring is something which is applicable to all those who offer pastoral care. LISTEN. We can sit with people as they unpack their thoughts and attempt to ‘lay them out straight.’ A person gains clarity by simply describing the journey they’ve been on. PRAY. Together, we can approach our heavenly father, who knows every challenge we face. He is the one who can bring them healing and wisdom. As a pastor’s wife, I know what it feels like when people come to me hoping for wisdom and ‘tips on how to do life better’. At times, there’s an unspoken expectation that my marriage to a pastor has given me the ability to download, Matrix-like, the wisdom to mete out advice on all pastoral issues. But this just isn’t true. I don’t have special wisdom because I’m married to a pastor, I simply have what we all have—an ability to listen and pray. PASTORAL TRAINING Increasingly, I meet pastors' wives who are equipping themselves to care for their congregations by studying biblical counselling, spiritual direction, or gospel coaching. These are great things to add to our toolkits for pastoral care. However, in my current stage of life—and I'm sure in many others'—the time, cost, and capacity to invest in these courses isn't viable. But that doesn't mean we are not equipped for pastoral ministry. Not at all. We can all listen and we can all pray. We can come before the Lord with the person there in front of us, giving them the gift of unhurried time to be heard. We can approach the throne of grace with them, asking the Lord to help in ways that we could never imagine. Jesus spent a lot of time teaching and explaining God’s Word, but he also valued the people society deemed valueless. He made space for them to talk. He made time to hear the hearts of people struggling with ill health, of those with divided hearts, of those desperate to be made whole. And he did so in spite of his disciples’ best efforts to hurry him along. In Mark’s account of the sick woman, it’s interesting to note Jesus’ response when he becomes aware that someone has touched his cloak. His disciples’ response rings with irritation and incredulity. You see the people crowding against you,’ his disciples answered, ‘and yet you can ask, ‘Who touched me?’ (Mark 5.31). But Jesus ‘kept looking around to see who had done it’ (5.32). In spite of the crush of people around him, he gave her space to tell her story. And then, of course, he healed her. Jesus’ approach was unhurried and compassionate. He showed his love by listening first, and then acting. That’s how I’d love to shape my ministry and, in fact, all my relationships. James reminds us that ‘everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry’ (1.19). I wonder who you will meet this coming Sunday morning. Perhaps you intend to catch up with certain people you only see on Sundays. Or maybe you’ll be eager to rescue a roast from near cremation. Or perhaps you’ll have children tugging on your arm, whining to escape. The possibilities are endless. But to the person in front of you, your ability to listen is what counts. It’s the way you show them just how important they are to their heavenly father. Every second you spend listening well has an impact on a life precious to God. And it may change how they approach him, how they understand his nature. For he is a God who hears, and who cares. 1. Defined by Rogers, C.R. (1957). The necessary and sufficient of therapeutic personality change. Journal of Consulting Psychology, 21, 95-103.

Forgiveness is fraught with dangers. The culture around us does not understand forgiveness. Having abandoned the concept of absolute moral standards, it no longer recognises guilt as an objective concept. Yet we can’t shake off the feeling that we aren’t what we should be, and we find ourselves under the constant judgemental gaze of others. When we squeeze guilt out, shame rushes in to take its place. Far from being liberated, we find ourselves trapped by the expectations of others and the relentless pressure to be authentic. Tragically, there is no way out of this shame because you can please some of the people some of the time, but you'll never please all of the people all of the time. We cannot escape shame without dealing with guilt. Fortunately, however, there is a way out of guilt. That way is forgiveness. To find oneself forgiven is a most joyous experience. The release from guilt is truly liberating. To stand uncondemned, pardoned, and assured that no punishment awaits is the very definition of freedom. And forgiveness leads us out of shame too. When guilt is gone, we need not feel shame for failing to meet someone else’s expectations. Nor must we feel shame for failing to live up to our own. Forgiveness is at the heart of the gospel. There is an absolute standard of right, and it’s found in the character, will, and law of God. The gospel exposes us as sinners before a holy God. But there is a way for that standard—which can never be met in us—to be met for us, through the atoning sacrifice of Christ. When we realise that the truth and grace of God meet in perfect union in the cross, we can step into the light to confess our sins and hear the pardon of the only just Judge. Of course, pardon for sin is not the sum total of salvation. There is cleansing from unrighteousness and the transforming work of the Holy Spirit. But until we receive his forgiveness, we cannot know these blessings. Forgiveness is also the basis for Christian community. FORGIVENESS IN CORINTH The church is a fellowship of people bound together by a shared experience of God’s forgiveness, and held together by our habit of forgiving one another. The church in Corinth discovered this reality. This church, famously, had its share of sins, so forgiveness was vital for its members. In 2 Corinthians 2, Paul writes about someone who needed forgiveness. Commentators differ in their opinions about what sin the individual had committed. Some think it is sexual sin—the man described in 1 Corinthians 5. Others suggest it is a person, possibly a leader, who had resisted Paul’s apostolic authority. Either way, the person had sinned, and that sin had to be dealt with. Paul himself had said as much in an earlier letter.[1] How should sin be dealt with in a church? In the first instance, it must be acknowledged. Ideally, the sinner should confess it. If not, then others should point it out to the guilty person, in the way expected in Matthew 18 or Luke 17. In most cases, if the person repents, restoration may be possible without making the matter public. There are important exceptions to that principle, though. Firstly, sins which are also crimes, or which pose a threat to vulnerable people, must not be kept secret. They should be reported to the proper authorities and safeguarding measures must be followed. Secondly, there is a lower threshold for addressing the sins of leaders publicly because of their impact on the church (see 1 Tim 5.19-20). A blog post is not an adequate place to work through what that means in practice, but it is vital that leaders in the church are held accountable. In the case of Corinth, the church was clearly aware of the sinful behaviour of the person, but it did not act to deal with it until the apostle Paul insisted they do so. This caused him a great deal of grief (2 Cor 2.4) and put his relationship with them at risk. Yet Paul knew it was necessary. We would do well to learn from his example. Habitual sin should not be tolerated among God’s people. It seems that a majority of the believers in Corinth took heed of Paul’s warnings. They took action, presumably excluding the person who had sinned from the fellowship of the church. And it seems that this action led to his repentance. The apostle does not say this explicitly but I think it’s implicit in his concern that the man not be ‘overwhelmed by excessive sorrow’ (v.7). However, in spite of this, his repentance was not met with forgiveness. Paul writes, The punishment inflicted on him by the majority is sufficient. Now instead, you ought to forgive and comfort him, so that he will not be overwhelmed by excessive sorrow. I urge you, therefore, to reaffirm your love for him. 2 Cor 2.6-8 I don’t know why the believers in Corinth didn’t forgive this man. Did they have some incomplete appreciation of grace? Did they take a purgatorial view of suffering, thinking he needed to stew a bit longer to make sure he was truly sorry? Were they seeking to deter others from wrongdoing by making an example of him? We cannot be sure. THE UNFORGIVING CHURCH Few things are more crushing than an unforgiving church. To refuse to restore a repentant brother or sister is a denial of the gospel. It may overwhelm the person with excessive sorrow, and it consigns us to bitterness. We must be ready not only to forgive, but to extend comfort to the forgiven person. This means reaffirming our love, both verbally and through action. A caveat is important here. Paul is talking about restoration into loving relationships in which the person can grow and be kept in healthy accountability. He is not talking about restoration of position. If the man who had sinned had been a leader in the church, as some commentators say, then it is telling that Paul does not suggest he should lead again. Some sins reveal a character flaw that disqualifies a person from leadership. Certainly, such flaws may be corrected by God’s grace over time, but it would be wrong to restore the person to leadership until progress is evident. Furthermore, some sins are of such a nature that the person should not be entrusted with ministry involving children or vulnerable adults. This is to protect those people from possible harm, to protect the person from future temptation, and to protect the reputation of the church. It is not unforgiving to block a repentant person from roles in which trust is vital. To sum up, then, if we have forgiven a person, we should seek to comfort them by showing them love. The Corinthians hadn’t done that and Paul knew it was because they were unforgiving. To drive this point home, Paul does what he so often does with the Corinthians. He relates their response to his own integrity. He writes, Anyone you forgive, I also forgive. And what I have forgiven—if there was anything to forgive—I have forgiven in the sight of Christ for your sake, in order that Satan might not outwit us. For we are not unaware of his schemes. 2 Cor 2.10-11 This is a remarkable statement. Paul is telling them that he trusts their judgement in forgiving the repentant person. He hasn’t verified the person’s repentance himself, but he takes their word for it. They have forgiven and so he will too. But Paul goes beyond simply saying that he forgives. He reminds them of why his forgiveness was necessary. He gives three reasons: CHRIST. He has forgiven ‘in the sight of Christ’. The gospel compels him to forgive. The Lord, who taught us to pray for divine forgiveness ‘as we forgive those who sin against us’, will one day ask Paul to give an account for his behaviour. And Paul, knowing that he himself has received forgiveness, sees forgiveness of the repentant person as the righteous response. How could he behave any other way? THEM. He has forgiven ‘for your sake’. Forgiveness is relational. It has a vertical dimension – ‘in the sight of Christ’—and a horizontal dimension—'for your sake’. When we fail to forgive, we harm our brothers and sisters. Paul recognises that unforgiveness on their part won’t only harm the person they won’t forgive. It will harm them too. How can we serve joyfully with others and proclaim Christ if we don’t forgive one another? Unforgiveness is a noose around all our necks. SATAN. Paul knows that the evil one has an agenda in every relational breakdown among God’s people. His schemes aim to destroy the fellowship, to drive people apart. If he can’t do that by tempting the sinner to deny his sin and refuse to repent, he will do it by tempting those he sinned against to hold on to grudges, and exclude him from their love. The gospel calls us to a radical forgiveness. Another caveat is vital here. Paul is not writing to the victims of abuse at this point. He isn’t demanding that a person who has been crushed by the sin of another should welcome the abuser back with open arms. That may never be possible and those who have been abused need patient and tender care. And, let me say it again, he is not saying that everyone can be restored back to the position they held before. However, the apostle Paul is saying that a church should restore truly repentant people into the circle of their love. This is necessary for four clear reasons. For the sake of the sinner. Because of Satan’s schemes. Because of the harm unforgiveness does to a fellowship. Because of our accountability to Christ. Forgiveness is fraught with dangers. If that is true for churches, it is even more so for leaders. So, with leaders especially in mind, let me remind you of those words from Paul that form the title of this post. Anyone you forgive, I also forgive. When those we lead sin, we can struggle to forgive. Especially if their sin includes resistance to our humble and selfless service, or unfair accusations against us. Bitterness can creep into our hearts. But that way lies disaster. Sometimes we need to learn from the church we lead, as Paul was willing to do from Corinth. If they have forgiven the person, so must we. Sometimes we need an older, wiser leader to show us the way, as Paul did for the Corinthians. But above all, we must be able to say to the Lord Jesus himself, Anyone you forgive, I also forgive. 1. See 2 Corinthians 2:4. The earlier letter was either 1 Corinthians or an unknown letter that came after 1 Corinthians and before 2 Corinthians.

If you’re a leader, you have soft power. You might never have thought about it but you do. Have you thought about the implications of this? What is soft power? Here’s a working definition to get us started.[1] The power that comes from relationship and trust, or from influence and popularity rather than from formal authority. It can be exercised wholly positively, but has the disadvantage of not being very transparent. If people do what you say just because they like and trust you, that’s soft power. In my book, Powerful Leaders?, I explore how soft power and influence work in Christian leadership. The healthy use of authority and power is a vital thing to help people flourish, so when it goes wrong, it can be very damaging. Sadly, the most likely place for it to go wrong is in the soft power and influence that Christian leaders often wield unwittingly. This is partly because we don’t think about it very much, and may even be unaware that we possess it. When leaders start to go off-track, I don’t believe it is badly motivated. At least, not usually. Rather, it is when we try to get some good end for the gospel or for the church but do so by manipulative or coercive means. We think we are doing Jesus’ work, but we aren’t doing it Jesus’ way. As soon as we act in ways that aren’t in the light, it doesn’t matter how good the outcomes are, the work isn’t of God. Ends do not justify means in his kingdom. I wrote my book to shine a light on the use of soft power and influence with the aim of helping leaders and churches to understand how it works, and to encourage them to embrace a healthy use of authority. However, perhaps the most challenging issue isn’t the leadership practice of individual leaders or leaders within organisations, but the cultures and tribes they serve. CULTURE Cultures can be nebulous things. They generally have defining narratives that have built up over time, and are designed to promote group attitudes, codes, behaviours, and a sense of identity and mission. But like a puff of smoke, they are hard to get hold of. Very often, cultures possess no single individual or group that is tasked with responsibility for laying out the cultural narrative and attendant features. Nevertheless, everyone thinks and acts in line with the narrative. They do this either because they agree with it and have internalised it or they self-censor in order to stay in the group. Ironically perhaps, while cultures can be hard to define, they can encourage rigorous conformity. It may not be explicitly communicated, but everyone knows who is at the top table, even if they don’t have titles and positions. Everyone knows the narrative you have to embrace to get in, and to remain in. Cultures create a high degree of cohesiveness around the narrative, even though it may be very unclear who is responsible for it. In fact, if you no longer agree with the narrative, you might well find yourself automatically placed outside the culture. This leads to the following unfortunate result . . . Cultures find it very hard to examine whether power and influence are being exercised in a healthy way. Those on the inside find it almost impossible, since they risk stepping outside invisible boundaries, while those on the outside don’t possess the power and influence to challenge those who wield real power. As a consequence, cultures easily become echo chambers that are impervious to evaluation and review. This is even more the case when they become powerful enough to undergird institutions, legacies, salaries and pensions. At that point—and this is often true of large financial institutions that are essential to an economy (like banks)—they can be deemed too important to be allowed to fail. When this happens, wilful blindness to the use and abuse of power can set in. When some catastrophe occurs, everyone can claim plausible deniability because nobody was actually responsible. And surely you can’t blame the culture as a whole, because that would be to tarnish a lot of innocent people. It’s worth remembering that these people do a lot of good, and by failing to distinguish them from the guilty, their reputations would be harmed. For all these reasons, it can be extremely difficult to spot when a culture has turned into a self-perpetuating echo chamber. FACED WITH A LEADER WHO FALLS When a public leader sins and falls, we tend to respond in one of the following two ways. We lay all the blame on the individual (sometimes in an effort to exonerate the culture). We blame the entire culture for enabling the sins of the individual. I believe we need to be more nuanced. Did the culture have active safeguarding measures in place against the potential for leadership abuses? Or was it inactive and immune to regular review, thereby creating the possibility for abuse through blindness and omission? If the latter . . . While the culture may not have been one that actively enabled abusive behaviour to occur, it was prone to manipulation because it wasn't actively discouraging abusive behaviour. Are there features of the culture that might have attracted and enabled bad leaders? Is there a direct relationship between the culture and the bad leader? Perhaps because they have created it or hold an unquestionable position within it? A culture that is more likely to use its soft power and influence wisely is one that . . . Acknowledges openly that it has soft power. Regularly takes steps to consider how it can ensure spiritual healthiness and transparency with regards to leadership and finance. Is open to constructive criticism and evaluation from ‘critical friends’ who are outside the organisation. I normally expect to find this in cultures that display the following characteristics. In these cultures, leaders . . . Are humble and prayerful, not given to self-congratulation. Value the spiritual formation of leaders. Value character and integrity rather than mere competency. Have no desire to be Big Leaders. Hardly know what a platform is, let alone possess the desire to have a large one. So, here are a few questions for reflection this week. As you consider the culture that surrounds you, mull these questions over, and as you do so, ask the Lord to guide your reflections and your prayers. QUESTIONS How would you describe the church/organisational culture of which you are a member? What is your role, and are you ever in danger of using soft power inappropriately? How would you know? What accountability do you have so that you can consider the culture you’re in and respond with humility and wisdom? How spiritually healthy is the organisational culture of your church? Do you all act with humility and grace towards each other? If not, what actions do you need to take personally to address this? 1. This definition is based on ideas in my most recent book, Powerful Leaders? - How Christian Leadership Goes Wrong and How to Prevent It. Inter-Varsity Press. 2022.

I’ll never forget Marie’s words. I am never alone. She spoke in French, her mother tongue, with a reassuring tone. We were sitting in her living room at the time, and though the words came out of nowhere, I knew exactly what she meant. I knew immediately because of what we share. Marie is my first cousin once removed—my father’s first cousin. She’s ninety-four years of age. I first visited her when I was sixteen. It was my first solo trip abroad. Back then, she lived in Basel, and I would sit in her presence for hours. In her kitchen, I learnt how to make salad sauces and helped her prepare the evening meal. I never felt in the way; she always made room for me. On this past visit, in June 2023, I felt just as welcome. Her home is a place of warmth, order, and love. The view from her balcony is breathtaking and so beautiful. I am never alone. These words are so precious to both of us now. In 1983, unknown to each other, we both began to follow Jesus. I was twenty-three and she was fifty-five. Of course, it radically changed our conversations. From then on, we grew much closer, learning and growing together in our faith. She lived in a different country, but we wrote to each other and spoke on the phone. She was, and is, truly a gift of God to me. Marie has not had an easy life. Her husband, who’s now passed away, did love her, but he was also emotionally abusive most of their married life. Indeed, he was so brusque and unpleasant at times that due to his behaviour, she lost several friends. Not only that, but one of her sons is estranged from the family to this day because of the way his father treated him. I also felt this man’s harsh tones. Once, he even asked me why I bothered coming to visit. He probably expected me to abandon Marie as others had. I told him that I loved my cousin, though I don’t think he understood what I meant. Through it all, however, Marie never lost hope. She believed that in spite of the many difficulties she faced, God had given her husband to her for a purpose. As he declined in his later years, she displayed immense patience and love, nursing him right up to his death at the age of eighty. That was eighteen years ago. I am never alone. These words were especially important to her in moments of profound grief. Her grandson fell to his death on a hike. He was just sixteen. As she grieved, she still opened her heart and her home to me, inviting me in and displaying the same extraordinary hospitality that I had always received. I am never alone. Where did this conviction come from? I believe it grew. I believe she made room for it to grow. And I believe it grew from a habit known as ‘practicing the presence of God.’ Each day, she rose early and completed her chores. Then she made breakfast and by 9.30am, everything was put away, her husband had left for work, and she was alone. That’s when she disappeared into her craft room for between thirty minutes to an hour. This was her ‘alone time’. This was her chance to spend time with her Lord, listening to him, reading his Word, and praying. Without this time, I’m not sure she could have survived her marriage. It was essential to her wellbeing. It gave her inner strength and resilience. Her story reminds me of another—the movie, War Room, released in 2015. The main character also has a prayer room and like Marie, comes to faith later in life. Her prayer room is her ‘war room’, the location where she pours out her heart to God, doing battle in the spiritual realm, and trusting her Saviour to answer her prayers. I wonder if you have a ‘war room,’ a place where you come to spend time each day with your Saviour. Recently, I’ve been impacted by the teaching of Brother Lawrence and Frank Laubach, two men who wrote about the spiritual life—especially as it relates to our daily dependence on God. Here’s Brother Lawrence. The difficulties of life do not have to be unbearable. It is the way we look at them - through faith or unbelief - that makes them seem so. We must be convinced that our Father is full of love for us and that He only permits trials to come our way for our own good. Let us occupy ourselves entirely in knowing God. The more we know Him, the more we will desire to know Him. As love increases with knowledge, the more we know God, the more we will truly love Him. We will learn to love Him equally in times of distress or in times of great joy. The Practice of the Presence of God, Brother Lawrence On a similar theme, Frank Laubach wrote these words in 1930. Oh, this thing of keeping in constant touch with God, making Him the object of my thought and the companion of my conversations, is the most amazing thing I ever ran across. It is working. I cannot do it even half a day — not yet, but I believe I shall be doing it some day for the entire day. It is a matter of acquiring a new habit of thought. Now I like God’s presence so much that when for a half hour or so He slips out of mind — as He does many times a day, I feel as though I had deserted Him, and as though I had lost something very precious in my life. The writer of Hebrews addresses our daily dependence on God by linking the key to endurance with the practice of keeping our eyes on Jesus. Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. Heb 12.1-2a I am never alone. A life in ministry can be lonely at times. Leaders sometimes feel isolated from those they lead. They need support and encouragement. Living Leadership can help, but so too can the habit of practicing the presence of God. For you are never, ever alone. A verse from the prophet Isaiah has been of immense comfort to Marie. I pray that as you read, you too are comforted by it. So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isa 41.10 Even in the depths of loneliness and struggle, Marie held onto her Saviour and the truth of this verse. For her God did strengthen her, did help her, and continues to do so. She is ninety-four, and close to the day when she will meet her Saviour face to face. Yet still she clings to him. Even after all these years. For she knows her God is faithful and true. He upholds her with his righteous right hand. May he do the same for you. Each and every day.

A few months ago, I began a series of posts based on the movie, McFarland, USA*. Here is the fourth post in this series. (Read my first post, including synopsis. My second post. My third post.) Where do you see Jesus in this world? If you pay attention, you’ll see him everywhere. His glory is displayed in the sunrise, his mercy exhibited in every food bank, his grace unfolding through acts of forgiveness around the world. Hardly surprising, then, that we see him in the stories we tell. Enter Jim White from the movie, McFarland, USA. The movie is based on a true story. Jim White (his actual name) is a real person, whose extraordinary life we follow on screen. It’s a story which highlights the immense impact he had on a bunch of Latino teenagers in a poor town in California’s Central Valley. As I watched the movie and reflected on it, I couldn’t help seeing parallels with the life of Jesus. I need to make clear, however, that I’m not saying that Jim White is exactly like Jesus. He isn’t. Indeed, some of his frailty contrasts strongly with the example we see in the life of Christ. Nevertheless . . . INCARNATION Let’s begin with the word ‘incarnation’. Christ took on human flesh in order to share his life with us. He joined us bodily in order to be with us, listen to us, care for us, teach us, and ultimately die for us (Heb 2.14-17). When Jim White first arrived in McFarland, he came among a people very different to himself. He didn’t speak the language, he didn’t know the customs, and in fact, his initial attitude contrasts strongly with Jesus. He took the job in McFarland unwillingly, and expressed a desire to leave as soon as possible. Yet he made the sacrifice. He moved to a small town in the middle of nowhere for one reason: to take care of his family. He did it out of love. The Incarnation—capital I—is far more remarkable than we have hearts and minds to imagine. Jim White was still in the USA, the nation of his birth. Although most used Spanish, they also spoke English. By contrast, Christ left a home completely unlike ours. Heaven is a place where the will of the Father is enacted perfectly. There is no suffering, no injustice, no evil, no blemish of any kind. Yet at Christmas—just a few weeks ago—we celebrate the day when our Lord entered our damaged, sinful, unjust, broken, violent world. Earth, though beautiful in so many ways, is not a place fit for a heavenly king. It is not pure and holy, but stained and bloodied by violence and sin. This is the world that our perfect Lord entered—Roman violence, corrupt religious leaders, greedy tax collectors, to name just a few examples of human depravity. Just like today. How remarkable, then, that the Lord Jesus chose, of his own free will, to join us down here in the dirt. He did it out of love. UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL What will you do to get to know your church community? Jim White could have stood aloof, teaching at school and running his practices before going home to his family. Service yes, but not sacrifice. Instead, he enters the homes of the boys he’s leading. He eats with them, surrounded by a language he doesn’t understand. Later, he spends a day in the fields picking cabbages. It’s back-breaking work, and he’s soon massaging his aching muscles. He buys the whole team shoes, rubs shoulders with all the local businessmen, and though it’s a struggle, he eventually manages to murmur a few words in Spanish. More than that, he embraces the customs of his community, holding a quinceanera* for his daughter. In short, he does everything he can—within the limits of his humanity—to enter a foreign land, a way of living with which he is not familiar. He does this, in part, because he needs the collaboration of the parents to run his practices. There is something in it for him. But he also does it because he cares deeply for the boys. They are not just students to him. They become like sons, and he will do whatever is necessary to inspire and lead them. Including eating more enchiladas than is healthy! What about Jesus? He joined us at our table (Zacchaeus), he went to work with us (Simon Peter), he taught us (Matt 5-7), became weary and wept with us (John’s gospel). He drew near. In Jim White, we see a man prepared to enter a world he didn’t know or understand. In Jesus we see a far greater sacrifice—our God becoming man to rub shoulders with the dirty, the rebellious, the idol-worshipers. And he did it for love. OPPOSITION It should be written into a minister’s job description. Will face frequent opposition. Must put up with people who argue, complain, and refuse to cooperate. We see it too in the life of Jim White. His ‘disciples’ drag their feet. They often complain. They lack belief in the goal. His most talented runner, Thomas Valles, walks out. The team almost falls apart. Jim also faces opposition from the boys’ parents. One father withdraws all three of his sons, saying that their practices are getting in the way of their work in the fields. At school, Jim faces criticism from a teacher, who scolds him for not being willing enough to help with after-school activities. He also gets into trouble with his family for forgetting his daughter’s birthday. At times, it seems like the whole world is against him. And so to the Lord Jesus. It seems like the whole world is against him. Where to start? His parents chased out of the country, running for their lives. A confrontation with the devil before his ministry begins; his own family who disown him; followers who leave him when the going gets tough (John 6.66). And I haven’t even started with the Pharisees and the Romans. The life of Jesus is one huge struggle. Because love is costly. It is painted in blood, sweat, and tears. For not only did Christ die on the cross, but he ‘died’ each day as he showed us what it looks like to ‘overcome the world’ (John 16.33b). For contrary to certain ways of thinking nowadays, the world isn’t one big happy family that just seems to have lost its way a bit. The world is in active rebellion against its creator. Jesus described us as ‘evil’, and for good reason. Light vs. dark. Good vs. evil. God vs. the devil. A fight. Hence, opposition. Which brings us to one of the most important dualities. Life and death. LIFE AND DEATH The Messiah came to die. He came to launch the kingdom of the heavens, and then he came to die to demonstrate his triumph over sin, death, and the devil. He came to save us. What do we see in the life of Jim White? We see a man who saves. Quite literally. In one scene, he finds one of his students sitting on a bridge over a busy road. Traffic roars along underneath. The young man is preparing to jump. Until his new teacher comes along and talks him down. But this isn’t the most important moment in the movie. That comes right at the end. Like Jesus, Jim White faces temptation. He is tempted to leave McFarland and take up the kind of job he has wanted his whole adult life—well-paid, with a comfortable home in a largely middle-class majority white town called Palo Alto. He is sorely tempted. Until the very final scene. After winning the state championship, he breathes out his decision. “McFarland.” He decides to stay in the town which has become his home. Poor. Working class. Majority Latino. Jim White lives in McFarland to this day. He recently celebrated his 59th wedding anniversary there. I see this as a demonstration of the ultimate sacrifice. Because many can give. But true sacrifice requires an entire life. To give up everything for the sake of love, one must pay with one’s life. For Christ was born with his death already laid out before him. He came to die for us, to offer up his life for us. Let us give thanks for an act of love that has no rival. Let us give thanks for the ultimate sacrifice . . . that gives us life. *A quinceanera is a celebration in the Latino community in the USA when a young woman turns fifteen.

The Flourishing Pastor: Recovering the Lost Art of Shepherd Leadership, Tom Nelson, IVP Praxis, 2021, 246 pages, ISBN: 978-151400132-5, List price: £14.99 “An impoverished theological vision, inadequate spiritual formation, and faulty pastoral praxis” (p.6). That is how Tom Nelson describes his younger self as he emerged from his time in seminary to start into ministry as a church planter. His reflections on his ministry experience and his observation that “the pastoral vocation is increasingly at risk” (p.7) in the contemporary setting, along with his conviction that “the One who calls pastors will provide the wisdom, guidance, strength, and empowerment to flourish and finish well” (p.7) led him to write The Flourishing Pastor. Inspired by the description of David’s shepherd leadership in Psalm 78 verse 72, he sets out to explore what it is to be a shepherd (Part 1), to have integrity of heart (Part 2) and to serve in pastoral ministry with skilful hands (Part 3). The result is an excellent guide to shepherding ministry that deserves a careful read by anyone called to pastor. Nelson is concerned that the pastoral calling is in crisis because many are tempted to one of three “perilous paths”: the celebrity pastor, the visionary pastor, or the lone ranger pastor (Chapter 1). He seeks to call pastors back to an understanding of the pastoral calling that is rooted in faith in God and happy to embrace obscurity (Chapter 2) and flows from an understanding of oneself as a sheep in the care of the Good Shepherd (Chapter 3). Having laid these foundations in his first section, Nelson proceeds to explore what integrity of heart means in terms of an integral life (Chapter 4) in apprenticeship to Jesus who calls us to be yoked to him (Chapter 5) and pursuing wholeness through healthy life practices (Chapter 6). The final section of the book considers skills for ministry, which Nelson understands as being about equipping God’s people to be a faithful presence in the world (Chapter 7). He argues that that goal means we must cultivate a flourishing culture in our churches (Chapter 8), help people connect Sunday to Monday (Chapter 9) and measure ministry progress by how well we are doing this (Chapter 10). He closes with a challenge to finish well (Chapter 11) based in a reminder of how often biblical leaders ended poorly and in the words of Paul to Timothy. The Flourishing Pastor contains a wealth of wisdom for pastoral ministry. Its call to obscurity and integrity is deeply challenging and thoroughly biblical. Nelson’s reflections on Jesus’ call to take his yoke, a passage many readers will know well, are refreshing and enlightening. His concerns about misunderstandings of pastoral ministry are timely and his central assertion that pastors need to recover an understanding of what it is to shepherd God’s people under Christ is surely crucial. Personally, I appreciated his frequent references to authors I have found helpful, especially Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Henri Nouwen. The inclusion of a Discussion Guide, with questions helping readers to reflect upon each chapter, relate it to their own experience and apply it to their future practice, makes The Flourishing Pastor a valuable tool for use in leadership teams or one-to-one mentoring relationships. It feels like Tom Nelson really speaks the language of Living Leadership. Or almost! At times his writing felt unnecessarily complex, with many technical terms he assumes the reader will understood, and his occasional references to neurobiology are unhelpfully brief and add little to his case. Personally, I must also confess that I am not a fan of the word ‘flourishing’, which appears quite often in the book as well as in the title. Like another recurrent phrase in this book, “the common good”, I fear it is too open to misunderstanding. Whilst his vision for pastoral ministry as equipping God’s people to serve him in all of life, he does not explain how to navigate the differences in understanding of what is ‘good’ that are bound to arise between Christians and others in today’s culture. This presumably looks different in his context in the USA from Europe and will need some careful contextualisation. In general, Part 3 of The Flourishing Pastor is less well-developed than the first two parts. It labours the point of equipping for whole-life discipleship without exploring other skills a shepherd pastor needs, such as feeding people from God’s word, praying for them, and tending to their wounds. Readers will need to look elsewhere for help in Word ministry, prayer and pastoral care. The great strength of this valuable book is in its attention to the pastor’s calling and heart. It is more than worth the cover price for its excellent and challenging thoughts on these subjects. Its consideration of the pastor’s task is less complete, but still worth a reflective read. The Flourishing Pastor speaks to the heart and will fan the flame in readers of a passion to shepherd others “with integrity of heart” and “skilful hands” (Psalm 78:72).

The clock strikes midnight on New Year’s Eve. Fireworks light up the skies. Bang! Pop! After an off-key rendering of Auld Lang Syne, you hear the same few sentiments that seem to come each year. ‘Happy New Year!’ ‘Glad this year is behind us!’ ‘A fresh start!’ ‘I hope this coming year is a good one!’ For those of us who have been experiencing a difficult time, the blank page of a new year can hold out so much promise. Perhaps that’s you. Maybe you have been experiencing a frustrating season of ministry, navigating conflict and disunity; or your family has been going through hardship or suffering. Or perhaps, more simply, it has been a relentless Christmas period and you are just hoping for a restful January when it’s all over. It is easy to put our hopes for rest, refreshment and, ultimately, joy in the prospect of the weeks and months to come. A blank calendar of endless possibility, underpinned by the world’s insidious idea that ‘new is always better’ and ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’. As leaders, we know this isn’t where our hope should hang, but in day-to-day terms, it is easy for our hearts to long for these things to be the answer to our struggles. As I reflected on this in my own life recently, a familiar line from a traditional carol took on new weight. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight. O Little Town of Bethlehem HOPES AND FEARS . . . What are you hoping for right now? What is causing you to fear? What is occupying your waking thoughts and nightly dreams? Or as a doctor might ask, ‘Tell me, where does it hurt right now?’ The end of the year is often a time when we take stock, but all that ‘stock-taking’ can have a dangerous by-product. It can lead to us looking too long at our world and our circumstances. As we take inventory of our life and the lives of those we lead, we can easily become overwhelmed by the stains of sin and the fall. Worse still, we may find ourselves drawing comparisons with others. If we’re not careful, our vision can become full of either . . . 1) The things we don’t see—the places of disappointment and perceived lack. All the things we wish we could change. OR 2) The approaching change we are anticipating, which may be making us feel anxious. (I have stood on the cusp of more than one year, thinking, ‘This is going to be hard; I wish I could stop time and stay where I am’.) . . . OF ALL THE YEARS . . . When our eyes are on this world, all we can see is change—the change we long for and the change we don’t want. Placing our hopes on the changing of a year is a lot like standing on shifting sands and trying to find firm footing. But when we lift our eyes to our Lord, we see what is unchanging and we find the stability and sure-footedness we are seeking. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever. Heb 13.8 As a well-known song so famously puts it, On Christ the solid rock I stand | All other ground is sinking sand. My Hope is Built on Nothing Less Throughout history, there has never been a day when God has not been faithful to his promises. There has never been a day when God has not been at work delivering his plan of salvation for his people, for you. There has never been a moment, whether the last year has been good or bad to you, when God has not been with you. And there never will be. We know all this—it is nothing new—and yet somehow, we can so easily lose sight of it. We point others to the hope of Jesus, but in subtle ways our own hopes and fears become tied to the fickle things of this world. This happens even though we know they can never provide us with the stability and joy we desire. We need to anchor our hopes and fears in our Lord who is ‘my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.’ (Ps 18.2) Even if your whole world changes in 2024, God does not. In him you can take refuge when it all feels too much. He is your stronghold when it seems that everything is against you. He is your source of strength when you are running dry. Let us lift our eyes from our circumstances and set them firmly back on our Saviour. . . . ARE MET IN THEE TONIGHT Somewhere in that little town of Bethlehem, a baby was born. Resting on his tiny shoulders were the hopes of God’s people who had been waiting centuries for the arrival of the Messiah. For generations, they had been waiting for God to step in and make everything right. They had been eagerly expecting the day when God would bring an end to their pain, sadness, and fatigue. They may even have been people who faced the turning of each year muttering to each other, “Maybe this year!? Maybe this year salvation will come.” In that little town of Bethlehem, their hopes were met and their fears alleviated as the unchanging God entered our changeable world. For Christ came to live, die, and rise again . . . and for us, that changes everything! We cannot guarantee that the new year will be happy. Nor can we be sure that the start will be fresh, or that 2024 will be a good year. But we can make a choice about where we seek our rest, refreshment, and joy. We can hold onto our unchangeable Saviour, who holds us fast in the midst of a changing world. So do join me as I grasp tightly to him and walk into this new year.

This year, my family and I are living the Christmas story. At least, that’s how it feels. For months, we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of a baby. Then, on December 7, he arrived: Samuel Aguilera, my grandson. There was an upgrade in transportation—less donkey, more American Airlines from California. He came bearing gifts—my daughter, Rebecca, and my son-in-law, Caleb. He is seven months old now, and weighs twenty-three pounds. He’s huge! And heavy, so heavy. Along with my children, he is without doubt the most beautiful child in all of history. You think this is hyperbole? It is not. 😉 BABIES So, what is it about babies? What do they teach us? What truths do their little faces communicate as they smile up at us? JOY Let’s start with joy. Babies give us joy, pure joy. Watch any group of people gathered around a beautiful baby and see the joy, the laughter, the delight. Babies are also extremely funny. Forget Netflix or Disney Plus. With a baby in the house, you have all the entertainment you need. Sam has already worked out how to make everyone laugh. Lean back, blow raspberries and giggle. Works every time. VULNERABILITY It’s impossible to escape just how vulnerable a baby is. For years, we humans can do little for ourselves. We are completely dependent on our caregivers. And truth be told, we never lose our vulnerability. The myth of self-sufficiency is just that. It’s a myth. We are entirely dependent on our God, who sustains this universe, who is master over every aspect of our lives, whether we acknowledge him or not. SAFETY Babies have one overriding need: to feel safe and secure. Birth itself is a complete shock to their system. From the warmth and security of the womb, a baby is launched into a hostile world. All their senses are assaulted. No wonder they cry out. A baby spends the first year of life simply adjusting to the shock of living in the world. This is why they have an overwhelming desire to feel safe and protected. It’s scary out here! The need for safety never really leaves us. This is why the Bible is such a wonderful source of comfort to those who feel insecure and anxious. It comforts those who, like babies, are fearful in this threatening world. Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Ps 91.1-2 You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. Ps 32.7 In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety. Ps 4.8 The name of the Lord is a strong tower; The righteous runs into it and is safe. Prov 18.10 LOVE After safety, love comes a very close second. Babies need love—a lot of it—and in their first few months, that is communicated through physical touch. It’s well known nowadays that physical touch isn’t just an option, but a necessity for healthy child development. Serious damage is inflicted on children who are denied physical touch during their first year of life. Certain neural pathways in the brain never develop, and short of a miracle, will never develop unless a child is held, touched, and kissed during these early months. Studies on the effect of Romanian orphanages have confirmed this. We need love. We need it desperately. Indeed, it is humanity’s greatest need—to love and be loved. We are created for it. Love the Lord your God, and love your neighbour as yourself. By this all people will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another. And some of my favourites from 1 John. Beloved, let’s love one another; for love is from God, and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God . . . God is love, and the one who remains in love remains in God, and God remains in him . . . We love, because He first loved us. 1 Jn 4.7,16,19 TRUST There is so much wisdom in the words of Jesus, when he said, ‘Allow the children to come to me, and do not forbid them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.’ Indeed, he was so adamant about this that he followed it up with, ‘Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it at all.’ Receive the kingdom of God like a child. Like a child. Like a baby. When Sam greets a new person, he almost always smiles. Why? Because every person he has ever met—aside from some scary health professionals—has smiled at him. This has ingrained a habit of trust. He expects favour and he returns favour. He demonstrates innocent faith in the benevolence of other human beings. Later, of course, he will learn that people are not always what they seem, but for now, all is well. That’s because babies bring out the best in us. Dare I say it but even terrorists care for their children. UP CLOSE AND PERSONAL And so to the Christmas story that has a baby right at the centre. She (Mary) gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped him in cloths, and laid him in a manger. What is Christmas about? It’s helpful to start in the realm of cinematography. In the movies, a director has many options for how the camera captures a scene. From wide-shot to close-up, all shots fall somewhere on the spectrum. The Bible is similar. The great themes of Scripture—salvation, justification, glory, sovereignty—come across as wide-shots. Romans is a wide-shot book. So is the second half of Revelation. Even the most famous verse in the Bible, John 3.16, is a wide-shot. For God so loved the world. That’s a huge panning shot of our planet. But Christmas? A baby held tenderly by his mother. This is about intimacy. This is up close and personal. The close-up. The camera zooms in, filling the lens with the long lashes, the soft skin, the look of wonder in Mary’s eyes. This is a scene which invites us not to reflect with grand vision, but to enter into an intimate moment. Immanuel. God with us. That means you, personally. By your side. Within you. Holding you. Cherishing you. Loving you. This is Christmas. For our core identity is rendered as follows: But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children of God. Jn 1.12a Children of God. We are children and will always be children, forever in need of our loving heavenly father, who holds us, cares for us, waits for us, seeks us, instructs us; whose heart beats constantly for us. We are children embraced like the returning prodigal, whom the father ran out to meet. Wrapped in his arms. This is Christmas. It’s about being held tenderly by our God, reflected in the image of intimacy between mother and child. This Christmas, please don’t leap to the wide-shot of Good Friday and Easter Day. Don’t skirt over this opportunity to remind people how deeply they are cherished by their God. Easter will come and glorious it will be. But right now, we are celebrating Christmas—the close-up—when the intimate incarnation took place. When God drew near to us. When he showed us just how much he loves us. It’s a moment in time when the enduring image of mother and child provides a snapshot of our core identity: child of God. For we are safe in his arms, just as the babe was safe in the arms of Mary. Worship the Christ-child this Christmas, and simply enjoy being held and protected by your Saviour, as he was held and protected by his mother so many years ago. For he is worthy of our worship. Come let us adore him.

“Oh no, not Christmas again!” After twenty-nine ‘ministry Christmases’, I’m writing this post to try to answer the question, ‘How can we remain fresh and enthusiastic at the prospect of preparing for carol services and Christmas talks yet again?’ I think I might have found the answer in the story of an elderly woman in Luke’s gospel. Her name, you may remember, is Anna. We come across her in chapter two. We read that ‘she had lived with her husband seven years after her marriage, and then was a widow until she was eighty-four.’ Life can’t have been easy for her, living with the pain and loneliness of bereavement for most of her life. Perhaps it was poverty and childlessness that initially led her to live each day in the security of the temple, where she ‘worshipped night and day, fasting and praying.’ But what could possibly have persuaded her to persevere so faithfully for so long? Perhaps the answer lies in the details that Luke includes in verse 36. There was also a prophet, Anna, the daughter of Penuel, of the tribe of Asher. Luke 2.36 Names in Jewish life carried great significance, and these particular names seem to take on added weight as we read the story. When translated, they can be rendered as follows: There was a prophet, Grace, the daughter of Face of God, of the tribe of Happy. First, we read that Anna was a prophet—the Lord chose her to be a recipient and a conduit of his word. Second, we read that her name is Grace. It’s clear elsewhere in Scripture that those who receive and pass on the word of the Lord demonstrate grace in action. For example, the apostles ‘bore witness to the word of [God’s] grace’ (Acts 14.3). In addition, Paul commended the Ephesian elders, ‘to God and the word of his grace which is able to build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified’ (Acts 20.32). Ultimately, of course, Jesus Christ is the Word who is ‘full of grace and truth’ (John 1.14). So now as we read this section again, we see that her life and testimony give new meaning to these names. For Anna, receiving the word of the Lord allowed her, in some sense, to see the Face of God (albeit veiled) and her obedient life had sustained her in happiness throughout her long life. Yet more is taking place. As a prophet, she was able to perceive that something very special was happening: Coming up to them [Joseph, Mary and Jesus] at that very moment, she gave thanks to God and spoke about the child to all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem. Luke 2.38 With prophetic insight, Anna sees who this 8-day-old baby is. She ‘sees’ with prophetic insight—a moment of immense significance for her. And not just for her. We’re told that she spoke to ‘all who were looking forward to the redemption of Jerusalem.’ Faithful Jews, gathered in Jerusalem, were yearning for the day when the Lord God would send his Messiah and redeem his people—much as we yearn for the day when the Lord will return to establish his new creation. And now here he is. The Redeemer. The Messiah. In Simeon’s arms. Just feet away. How amazing! Her response? To give thanks to God. May I encourage you to do the same? In the midst of the busyness and even (dare I say?) the repetitiveness of Christmas preparation, take time to stop and give thanks to God for the Lord Jesus. This is especially important for those with busy schedules. For only when we ourselves draw near to give thanks and worship can we follow in Anna’s footsteps, and do so with integrity. For we read that she ‘spoke about the child.’ That’s what leaders do at Christmas services. They speak about Jesus. This is their divine calling. I remember a story about Billy Graham who was once speaking at a Cambridge mission. The first evening he tried to impress the students with an academic sermon, but it was a flop. Afterwards, he asked John Stott for advice. Stott told him to do what he had been doing throughout his life as an evangelist—just speak simply and straightforwardly about the Lord Jesus. So that’s what he did, and many students came to faith through his words. We may not be famous. We don’t have name recognition like Billy Graham or John Stott. And our story isn’t recorded in Scripture like the prophet Anna’s. But we can speak about Jesus. We can celebrate his birth, and share the good news of love come down. And as we do so, we can pray for the Holy Spirit to take our words and touch the hearts of those whom the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ ‘chose before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight’ (Eph 1.4).

How’s your church doing? It’s the question many ministers fear. As I walked towards a conference centre a while back, I knew the question was coming. It was making me nervous. What would I say? What should I say? Options tumbled through my mind. Well, there are some encouragements, but lots of challenges and I’m really not sure I can stick at it! No, that would just result in a ‘tumble-weed’ moment—an awkward silence before someone commented on the weather or politics. What about the social media approach? Stick to the positives. The verbal equivalent of endless holiday snaps with sandy beaches and sunny skies. Or perhaps just a standard platitude. Oh, it’s fine, you know, the usual ups and downs, but God is good all the time! Before I go on, I must say this was not a Living Leadership conference! Indeed, when I joined a Pastoral Refreshment Conference as a pastor, I found encouragement to look to Jesus and space to reflect and enjoy his goodness. People weren’t scrutinising my ‘ministry’, they were supporting me. But the question remains. How should leaders speak about the churches and organisations they lead? What if the first things that come to mind are problems, weaknesses, conflict? The apostle Paul sets an example for us in the way he spoke about the church in Corinth. And besides our own comfort, we rejoiced still more at the joy of Titus, because his spirit has been refreshed by you all. For whatever boasts I made to him about you, I was not put to shame. But just as everything we said to you was true, so also our boasting before Titus has proved true. And his affection for you is even greater, as he remembers the obedience of you all, how you received him with fear and trembling. I rejoice, because I have perfect confidence in you. 2 Cor 7.13-16 Paul boasted about them to Titus and expressed his confidence in them. Could you say that about the people you lead? ‘Boast’ (in Greek, kauchaomai) is a favourite word of Paul’s, especially in his second letter to the Corinthians [1]. It usually refers to his confidence in God’s work and purposes (Rom 5.2,3,11; 2 Cor 10.17) in contrast to placing confidence in ourselves (1 Cor 1.29,31; 3.21; 4.7; 5.12) or adherence to the law (Rom 2.17,23). It also describes his confidence in the authority Christ had given him as an apostle (2 Cor 10.8,13,15) and his unashamed confession of his weakness (2 Cor 11.30; 12.1,5,6,9). These statements contrast with the false boasting of the ‘super-apostles’ (2 Cor 11.12,16,18). Paul was determined not to boast in anything except Christ’s cross (Gal 6.13-14). Salvation by grace through faith precludes boasting in our strengths and efforts (Eph 2.9). This is the word—boast (in Greek, kauchaomai)—that Paul uses to describe things on which we can depend. They are things which give us confidence: God, Christ, the cross, the apostles of Christ. So, how could he use it of a church? He’s used it before. About the church in Thessalonica. He spread the word of how the Thessalonians had shown themselves steadfast amidst afflictions (2 Thess 1.4). It’s not hard to see why that church would be Paul’s ‘poster church.’ It was the standout church in his mission reports. But the church in Corinth? Really? Had he forgotten the catalogue of problems that he addressed in his first letter (1 Cor)? Factions; sexual immorality; lawsuits between members; dabbling in pagan religious practices; turning the Lord’s Supper into a self-indulgent feast; the misuse of spiritual gifts for personal satisfaction, and arguably the worst of them all: denying the resurrection of the body. If there was any New Testament church an apostle might have been tempted to gloss over, it was this one. But he doesn’t. He boasts to Titus about them and he tells them he has confidence in them. Wow. What is going on? The first thing to notice is that this was not the kind of boasting that goes on in leaders’ conferences, mission reports, or church websites. Paul was not pretending that this church was the latest, greatest thing. His confidence was in their readiness to obey the command he had given them. A command to do what was morally right and consistent with the gospel. Having said that, Paul was not at all certain how the Corinthians would act when he boasted about them to Titus. He seems relieved that they had not let him down. His confidence may have been complete when he wrote 2 Corinthians, but it really wasn’t when he sent Titus their way. So, how could he boast about this motley crew? This, I believe, is Paul living by the principle he taught them. We walk by faith, not by sight. 2 Cor 5.7 Paul was not blind to the problems in the church in Corinth. He wasn’t at all certain they would stay loyal to him. He feared they might turn against him and grieve Titus. But his hope was resolutely in God and his power (2 Cor 1.10). For this reason, his hope for the Corinthians to come good was unshaken (2 Cor 1.7). Paul was looking past the short-term challenges to the long game. It was too soon to give up on them. The final analysis of that church and their relationship with him would only come when Christ returned. So he writes . . . I hope you will fully acknowledge— just as you did partially acknowledge us—that on the day of our Lord Jesus you will boast of us as we will boast of you. 2 Cor 1.13-14 What about you? Think about the people you lead. You know their problems, their weaknesses, and their limitations. But can’t you also see their resources, strengths and possibilities? And, more importantly, don’t you know their Lord and his power? Your hope is in the God who raises the dead. He raises the dead! This is why you can be certain that your church or organisation is never beyond hope. There are no ‘Do Not Resuscitate’ orders in the kingdom of God. Of course, there’s no guarantee that your church or organisation has a future, either. Even if you lead with sincerity and integrity, as Paul did in Corinth, they may reject you. They may refuse to let you work with them for their joy (2 Cor 1.23). Sometimes the right thing to do—or the only thing you can do—is leave. However, as long as you are there, never stop trusting (and hoping) in what God can do among his people. They are his, not yours. Have confidence in them, not because of who they are (and certainly not because of who you are) but because you have cast iron confidence in the God who is at work in them. Look beyond the present to what God will do when he perfects his people. Exhibit both faith and hope. When the leaders lose hope, others do too. So, keep your expectations realistic, but set your hopes high, for their horizon is glory. The key to godly boasting doesn’t lie in believing our own propaganda or overlooking the flaws in those we lead. It isn’t found in honing our skills or improving our strategies, either. Although neither is a bad thing. It is found in our confidence in God. Boasting in the cross of Christ alone does not mean we cannot take pride in people. Indeed, if we see people as the precious inheritance for whom Christ died, greatly loved by God, and destined for glory, we have ample reason to take pride in them. And we may even learn to love them better. For our boasting is founded upon our God, whose love and faithfulness are everlasting. So how’s your church? I won’t mind if you boast a little . . . [1] Of 37 New Testament appearances of kauchaomai, 35 are in Paul’s letters (the other two are in James), and 20 of those are in 2 Corinthians

The soup is simmering on the stove, filling the kitchen with hearty smells of autumn. The table is laid with brownies, cheeses, and chutneys. I want this lunch to be special. I want each guest to feel honoured. To know how much they are loved, how valuable they are. As I scan the room for last-minute tweaks, my heart is full of thankfulness. This isn’t just any Friday lunch with friends. This lunch is a testimony to God’s gracious provision and kindness. There will be joy and laughter around this table, but the joy will be tinged with sorrow. For one seat will be left empty. That seat belonged to the person who prayed this group into being. It belonged to Jos. Over the last few years, our women’s Friday nurture group has grown. Jos, my co-leader, and I have longed for the Lord to do a deep work in each of us, and so we began asking God to raise up women to lead alongside us. A ratio of two leaders to twenty group members isn’t ideal. When Jos sadly passed away six months ago, I knew I couldn’t continue leading alone. Our nurture group is filled with wise and godly women with wonderful servant hearts. Any one of them could be a leader. But as I asked them to consider helping me lead, they each responded with a version of “Oh, I couldn’t do that”. I knew this couldn’t be due to laziness or spiritual apathy, given their generous and servant-hearted natures. I wanted to understand why these women felt inhibited from serving in a leadership role. Through many conversations over coffee, I started to understand what would help these women flourish. These insights I share with you now. A SAFE ENVIRONMENT A local church should be an environment where everyone can thrive and serve without the fear of getting it wrong. This is critical. Is there a spirit of generosity and encouragement, or one of correction and fault finding? How do we respond when someone gives the wrong answer in a bible study? One negative experience here led one woman to withdraw. For many years, she stopped contributing, her confidence shattered by one moment in time. So a couple of questions. How does your church handle imperfection? Do your leaders exhibit an openness about their own struggles and weaknesses? Or do they present a ‘front’ which gives the impression that weakness is not tolerated? THOUGHTFUL LANGUAGE Language matters. With a background in cross-cultural mission, I should know, but somehow, to my shame, I had forgotten. Words matter. The words we speak and the words that others hear. Consider the word ‘leader’ and ‘lead’. I thought I was asking for someone to facilitate a group discussion on a bible passage. They heard ‘must be articulate, intelligent, educated and know an awful lot of information!’ I didn’t say that but that’s what they heard. And so they were intimidated. On top of this, some have had a negative experience of leadership, which made things worse. So, I asked the women to ‘share’ their thoughts on a passage rather than ‘lead’ a study. Slowly something beautiful began to happen. One woman gave us a theologically rich overview of Romans 5. She wouldn’t say that’s what she had done, but it was. Another expressed herself artistically though creating a piece of art around the passage. As they saw others willing to share, they found they could have a go too. Our time became so much richer. In this way the Dream Team was born. Removing the word ‘leader’ took away much of their anxiety. A few women took the plunge and said ‘yes’. Not everyone on the team leads by leading bible studies. They each have different gifts, but most importantly they are godly, wise, loving women who are willing to step out in faith to serve Christ, trusting that he will supply all their needs. LOTS OF TIME People take time to recover from a season of change or settle into a new church environment. For some, it takes a long time. The newest member of the Dream Team has been around church for around five years. She’s quietly faithful, thoughtful, and extraordinarily gifted. She has been coming along, listening, watching, figuring us out, asking herself, ‘Is this a place where I am safe to try?’ It’s taken time. But this year she is flourishing. We’ve discovered she is a talented musician and finally feels safe enough to join the music group. She’s now teaching the kids, reaching out to newcomers, bringing friends into church. She has stepped into leading the discipleship group for young Christians, a role she loves. She has enthusiastically agreed to join our team. When new people arrive at our churches, clearly godly and gifted, it’s tempting in our enthusiasm to plug them into the gaps. But often, people need time. Perhaps time is needed to heal from a previous damaging church experience. Or it might be time to rest from a busy season of serving. Or time to acclimatize themselves to our way of doing things. Time to figure us out. Time to feel safe. Of course, as leaders, we see the gaps. And they can become burdens to us. Who will serve coffee, lead a children’s group, help at the newcomers’ course? But we need patience. A lot more patience. For there is a deep wisdom in knowing when to ask people to serve, and when to hold back, giving them space to sit and receive. As I wait for the doorbell to ring, I thank God for each one and for Jos who prayed big prayers with me all those months ago. She passed away before she could see her prayers answered in beautiful ways. She had a vision, and the Lord has done wonderful things because of her willingness to pray. We are grateful for her life. Putting some finishing touches to the table settings, I pray that each woman coming for lunch would find real joy in serving together, in finding strength through weakness. I pray that as we plan, share, and encourage one another over lunch, God would deepen our connection with each other and with him. Most importantly, I pray that we would experience the truth of the apostle Paul’s words. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 2 Cor 12.9

I have to say, I wasn’t expecting it. It just seemed to creep up on me. Perhaps it’s my age—I’m not sure—but my fascination with history is starting to leak out.* And before you suggest that I’m rather odd—or I lack self-control—I must say I know a lot of guys around my age who are starting to betray a secret obsession with history. We all listen to The Rest is History podcast presented by Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook, and it shows. For me, it shows when an historical illustration finds its way into my sermons. Fewer references to people like David Beckham, and a lot more anecdotes about Wellington and Alfred the Great! I’m learning to attribute my sources promptly, or I’ll be caught out. A few months back, there was a whole episode devoted to great dogs in history. So it was that I learned that Admiral Collingwood’s dog was named Bounce. Collingwood was a naval commander during the Napoleonic wars, fighting alongside Nelson at Trafalgar. When on dry land, he liked nothing better than to stride the Northumbrian hills with Bounce at his side. He also stuffed his pockets full of acorns, and every so often he would plant one of them. Why did he do this? Because he was a man of vision. He knew how much the British Navy relied on mighty oaks for its fleet. He wanted there to be oaks growing for decades, centuries even. He knew that these trees would keep the Navy well supplied and strong. And though he didn’t predict the advent of iron and steel that would radically alter how ships were built (how could he?), the point remains. He recognised that a navy would be needed long after he was gone, and he wanted to do what he could, literally sowing seeds for the future. Well, the church needs mighty oaks for the future too. The Lord uses this precise image to describe his people. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, for the display of his splendour. Isa 61.3 Amazingly, he wants us to join in with his forestry project. Because here’s the truth—one day, we’ll be gone. And most of us won't have books written about us. Nor will we be a featured historical figure on The Rest is History. Tom Holland and Dominic Sandbrook won’t be waxing lyrical about our achievements. But that doesn’t matter. Not one bit. Because our significance lies in the fact that we’re planting acorns. That’s what matters. That takes real vision. It requires that we look past our own petty egos and ambitions and invest in God’s kingdom for the ages; indeed, for eternity. Such vision calls us to see our lives as just one leg of a relay race down through the millennia. We’re not called to be better, more noticeable, or more glorious than the other runners. We’re called to carry the baton safely and pass it on. We see this baton-passing mentioned often in the Bible. Here are some verses on this subject worth reading. Proverbs 13.20; 27.17 Romans 15.14. 1 Corinthians 4.15; 11.1. Philippians 4.9 2 Timothy 2.2; 3:14. Hebrews 10.24-25; 13.7 Surely this is also a crucial element in Jesus’ great commission. Go and make disciples . . . teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you . . . Matt 28.19a;20a How do we do this? Certainly, we can do it through formal mentoring or discipling relationships, but actually these acorns are planted in all kinds of ways. It doesn’t require us to have younger believers sat at our feet, hanging on our every word as we recount our wisdom and experience. If that’s our method, we’ll probably be disappointed to find that not many want to sit and listen to our old war stories. Most often, and perhaps more effectively, it’s about drawing alongside people, listening intently, showing interest, and speaking words of encouragement. When we do this, our relationships blossom into ones in which we can ask gentle, open questions that spur growth. These budding acorns we then water with our prayers. Though it’s not fully realised yet, I have a vision of a church community in which the twenty-somethings walk alongside teenagers; the middle-aged walk alongside the younger adults; the mature and seasoned saints draw close to the bemused mid-lifers, just letting them know that they’ve walked similar paths and learned from their mistakes. And are still learning. God’s kingdom needs mighty oaks for the future. For those of us who more readily identify with the dandelion, it is wonderful to know that even our weaknesses—especially our weaknesses—can be used by the Lord to build up and encourage mighty oaks for the coming generations. Many reading this will already be planting acorns in all kinds of ways. But you may also be discouraged. Sometimes we don’t see the impact we’re having. Sometimes we wonder if our acorns are growing at all. If this is you, I have a word of encouragement. Please remember, acorns take time to grow. A long time. Welsh poet R.S. Thomas once wrote a poem entitled ‘The Country Clergy’. He was himself a clergyman, and he wrote of little-recognised ministers, working in obscure country parishes who . . . “…left no books, Memorial to their lonely thought In grey parishes; rather they wrote On men’s hearts and in the minds Of young children sublime words Too soon forgotten. God in his time Or out of time will correct this.” ** It’s a great vision, to be writing on people’s hearts, planting acorns for the future. For they are becoming mighty oaks, displaying not my renown but God’s splendour. That’s what I want to be doing. I’m sure you do too. *Why do men of a certain age display a fascination with history? Now there’s a possible blog post for someone else. Watch this space! ** R.S. Thomas, in Collected Poems, 1945–1990 (London: Dent, 1993), p.82