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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

Here at Living Leadership, we offer pastoral support to leaders and their spouses. That’s one of our raisons d'être. We offer many services here, but all our activities are focused on caring for and equipping those who lead (in churches and Christian organisations) and their spouses. PASTORAL SUPPORT When God calls us to fulfil a short-term need for support, we have no idea where it might take us in the longer term. I have experienced a few times relationships developing from mentoring - maybe focused on a single issue - into friendship. One pastor came to me in crisis ten years ago. Ten years has been enough time for the relationship to develop and grow. We’ve shared many of our life’s challenges with each other, and though it began in crisis, we have moved on. We now have a deep bond of friendship that we both cherish. And we’re still doing what matters most: studying the bible and praying together. Before the pandemic, I was meeting with a brother who had recently left parish ministry to pursue a chaplaincy role. God had placed a burden on him to establish a charity offering chaplains to a particular demographic. As his vision sharpened, God began to provide people, resources, and opportunities. It was an exciting time, and I found that my own role began to change. I still offered soul care to my friend, but he invited me to take part in supporting the work of the charity. I was elected as Interim Chair to take the organisation through to its first AGM. It was a real honour to attend and chair a meeting which not only appointed new trustees but also a much more appropriate and skilled chairman! The past four years have seen a whirlwind of activity, but our primary focus has never wavered. As we’ve always done, we meet to offer mutual encouragement based on bible study and prayer. GROWTH IN THE GARDEN In a previous post, I wrote about my gardening exploits. I particularly enjoy watching tiny seeds or bulbs growing into fully mature plants. When you look at the packet, you can see a photo of what the plant is supposed to look like once it’s full-grown. Occasionally, however, a rogue seed finds its way into the soil, and as you watch your begonias grow, you’re not quite sure what’s happening. What is that nasty coiling greenery wrapped around my budding flowers?! Sometimes you’re fooled into thinking you’ve gained a new, interesting plant, but perhaps that’s the Scotsman in me—excited about acquiring something for free! There is a similarity here with a mentoring or pastoral relationship. We come alongside a person, who is seeking care, guidance, or perhaps just some spiritual food. Often there is a ‘presenting issue’, a spiritual need. At times, there may be weeds. We begin in one place but it soon emerges that we’re dealing with the persistent weed of some sinful behaviour, attitude, or habit. When this occurs, we provide support by walking alongside people. Through mutual study, prayer, and conversation, a relationship develops. Trust builds. And as it does, a bond is forged which can stand the moment when we must sometimes gently challenge what may be a deep-rooted issue. The relationship, if it is to develop well, needs not only a foundation of trust built up over time, but an end goal. It must be focused on helping the tender shoot to stand up on its own. When we begin to see this happening, it is a wonder to behold, because it is dependent on the work of God. In nature, sunlight causes photosynthesis to occur—a process that triggers growth in a plant. The hormones of the plant and its DNA, along with the nutrients of the soil and water molecules combine to give us ears of grain, flowers, seeds and leaves. Just as we can’t see atoms with our eyes, we don’t really see all that goes on in the chemistry of plant growth—but it happens because God designed plants this way. It’s an inevitable process when the combination is right, and Jesus even talks about it in the parable of the growing seed. Night and day, whether he* sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come. Mark 4.27-29 *The farmer. Just as the Kingdom of God commences inconspicuously and then grows slowly until it’s ready for harvest, so it is with spiritual growth in individuals. To help people grow and enjoy the benefits of the mentor/mentee relationship, we use careful and persistent questions to plant the seed of God’s word, and we entrust them to the presence of God, the Holy Spirit. Mentors cannot force growth—that is not in our power. However, we can provide an environment in which our conversations become spiritual food that generates growth. Our words, by the grace of God, feed the soul. And it’s only by his grace that they do. We are merely servants, guided by the Spirit. Have you ever kept watch as grass seeds gradually turn into a smooth green lawn? Or have you watched a new plant sprout new growth? It’s so exciting. The green fuzz that slowly appears, or the buds that begin to erupt into colour—they are such splendid works of our Creator. So it is when we see others grow in the knowledge and grace of God. When it happens, we should give thanks, of course. But we should also pass on to our mentees what we’re seeing. Encouragement nurtures and feeds the soul. At Living Leadership, we are privileged to be able to walk with leaders and their spouses, to support and encourage them. Each person is like a ‘tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season (Ps 1.3a). Every person I’ve mentored fills me with joy for I have watched them become ‘oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendour’ (Isa 61.3c). Editor’s Note: If you are involved in Christian ministry, and are interested in receiving pastoral support, do visit our Refresh Ministries page to find out about all the ways we can support you.

A couple of months ago, I began a series of posts based on the movie, McFarland, USA*. Here is the third post in this series. (Read my first post, including synopsis. My second post.) The movie, McFarland, USA, contains many themes. It’s especially strong on leadership, but at its heart, it’s a movie about sports. It’s about team, and how a team is built. Church leaders have no trouble talking about teams, but sport? Well, there’s a conundrum. If I mention football again, half the congregation will sigh and switch off. But if I don’t mention our city’s triumph yesterday, I will be out of touch. Which half should I offend? At this point, it’s worth a reminder of why sport is so important, whether you like it or not. Sport is important in our culture, because in many ways, it has replaced religion. It therefore sets out to satisfy many of the longings of the human heart previously associated with religion. As a character in a book I wrote recently said, “Sports . . . Aidan. The gathering of the faithful . . . arms aloft . . . communal singing . . . salvation figures . . . the outpouring of devotion. Modern-day worship.” House of Souls, p.219 Cross-country running doesn’t immediately make most people think of teams. But it should. At least, it should when you understand that, as a high school sport in the USA, each runner competes for points that add up to a team score. You run on your own, but you run for your team. Sounds a lot like church. In fact, it sounds a lot like this verse from the letter to the Hebrews. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. Heb 12.1b-2a In McFarland, USA, the individual effort to reach the winning post is submitted to the team goal. No one runs to win alone. They all run for each other. So when they win, they win together. Team first, individual glory second. What, then, can we learn from Jim White’s example as the man who builds this team? BELONGING What did Jim White do to unlock the potential in these young men? Essentially, he called them into relationship. He saw them. He valued them. And he made sacrifices to spend time with them. That’s a lot like Jesus. Jim White also understood the power that comes from belonging. At the beginning of the film, they resist almost all the demands he makes. They argue and occasionally storm off. But they keep coming back. They could quit, but they don’t. That’s because Jim White has unlocked a basic human need. To belong. And he does this by giving them a shared goal that undergirds belonging. That goal starts to give them value and purpose in a way they have never experienced before. As a leader, this is all about relationship. Why do people attend your church? The music? The preaching? The theology? May I submit that the principal reason your church members attend your particular church is community? It’s the people. It’s always about the people. It’s ALWAYS about relationship. Because through relationship, we belong. Ask, therefore . . . Am I effectively identifying isolated people in my community, and helping them belong? Am I engaging in activities that enhance good relationships in church, or am I myself rather isolated from the group? Do I properly understand the relationships between my church members? Do I help those relationships deepen and stimulate spiritual growth? When relationship sour, do I set out to reconcile people? Do I make the necessary sacrifices to tackle conflict when it arises? Is my church a place where everyone feels they belong? If not, why not? OVERCOME OBJECTIONS Building a team is hard, because leadership is hard. It requires perseverance, strength of purpose, and a sure conviction that the culture you’re aiming for is one that gives glory to God. That means you’ll face opposition. It’s part of the job. Jim White faces constant cynicism and complaining from his team. Especially from his team leader. The one he had hoped would inspire the others, Thomas Valles, is the one who moans the most, and then quits the team. (Later, he returns.) He’s the one who needs to be saved (see a later post on this). It reminds me of Simon Peter, who quit, and needed to be restored. Thomas is surly and negative, but in many ways, he undergoes the greatest transformation. Rather like Simon Peter. So, every time you face opposition, remember who you are, where you’re heading, and who is on your side. Opposition is a sign that you’re dealing with people who don’t want change. Nor did Jim White’s running team. But they still followed their leader. So as long as the whining, complaining church members are still there, there is still hope for the future. Be gracious towards those who don’t like change but remember that if the Lord is calling you to build a team, and change is essential, then he will be with you as you implement those changes. FIND THEIR JOY In a later post, I will write about gifts, based on 1 Corinthians 12. Suffice to say here that we build a team most effectively when we help our people find their joy. So let’s widen this a little. What makes Mrs. Jones feel that she belongs? Remembering her son who’s serving in the army? See Jerry over there? He’s just been made redundant. What could you do to involve him more at church? Does he need a mentor or counsellor? Are the musical ones using their musical gifts? Are the evangelists equipped to evangelise? Are the carers equipped to care for the needy? As you look around at your congregation, do you see a group of people who have found their joy? Because when a person finds their joy, they so often feel that they belong. That’s why it’s so important for people to discover their role, their place, in a community. Millions upon millions of people attend football matches, seeking a place to belong. Yet in church, we have a ready-made loving community where anyone can serve and discover how much they are loved. So help people find their joy by finding their place. PUSH THEM Winning takes sacrifice. Real effort. Sadly, we sometimes get our theology in a tangle. You don’t have to do anything, we say, to receive the grace of God. All you need is faith. Spot on. Absolutely right. But oh, the unfortunate consequences of this truth when mis-applied. The free grace of God does not mean that the Christian life is absent of the need to discipline oneself. To quote the apostle Paul, Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever. 1 Cor 9.24-25 Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. Effort. Discipline. Jim White makes his team do yet another lap, jog up yet another hill. He demands discipline, and by doing so, he finds a team that responds. Find a way, therefore, to overcome your politeness, if that’s an issue for you. Challenge your people to grow. Don’t just shake their hands as they leave. Consider how you can encourage each person to grow. If that entails a little ‘pushing’, then take that risk. If that means overcoming your fear, then so be it. I think you’ll be surprised by the response you get. A leader who truly desires that I grow? And calls me out, encouraging me (and sometimes challenging me) in my faith? That’s a leader I’ll follow. YOU’RE THE FAN Who matters most in the stadium? The fans. Without fans, there is no sport. Without fans, what’s the point? So if you want to build a team, start to think like a fan. Fans love their teams. I mean, really love their teams. They come out in all weathers, drive hundreds of miles, to support their team. You must show the same dedication. Because people crave encouragement, even if they don’t vocalise it. Listen to Jim White, encouraging his team before the state championship race. It’s enough to bring a tear to the eye. Every team here deserves to be. Including you. But they haven’t got what you’ve got. They don’t get up at dawn and go to work in the fields. They don’t go to school all day and go back to work in those same fields. They can’t even imagine it. And then you come out and you run 8 miles, 10 miles and you take on even more pain. These kids don’t do what you do. They can’t even imagine it . . . You guys are super-human. What you endure just to be here, to get a shot at this, the kind of privilege someone like me takes for granted, there’s nothing you can’t do with that kind of strength, that kind of heart. You kids have the biggest hearts I’ve ever seen. It’s little surprise that these kids ran with hearts like lions after listening to that. Self-belief surged through their bodies, because their leader supported and loved them. He believed in them. So he encouraged them by speaking truth into their hearts. That’s leadership.

No pain, no gain. I’m sure you know the slogan. Its roots may go back a long time, but it was popularised in the 1980s in a series of exercise videos by Jane Fonda. According to Wikipedia, ‘Medical experts agree that the proverb is wrong for exercise’. I’m not so sure. After exercise, a certain kind of pain indicates that you’ve worked the muscles in a way that generates size and efficiency. Other kinds of pain reveal that you’ve overdone it, and possibly damaged your muscles. Exercise experts know the difference . . . and I don’t. Exercise wisdom is not my forte! What happens when we apply this principle to ministry? Serving others often entails pain. Self-denial and the opposition of the evil one often lead to suffering. Sadly, too, there is the pain of betrayal, rejection, and unfair accusations from those we seek to lead. This is all part and parcel of what the apostle Paul describes as ‘sharing in the sufferings of Christ’ (Rom 8.17; 2 Cor 1.5; Phil 3.10). Is ministry gain impossible without pain? I wouldn’t go that far. However, it does seem that the apostle Paul expects pain as part of the package. 2 Corinthians tackles this subject directly. And it’s certainly true that pain can be a source of gain. Like me, I’m sure you can testify to how the Lord has grown your character and faith through painful experiences. And if you’re currently going through one, I am confident that God is able to produce growth in you through it, (though that might be hard to hear right now). When we think of the Lord Jesus, the phrase, ‘no pain, no gain’ is certainly true. But with a twist. His pain was for our gain. There could be no glory for us without his wounds. The apostle Paul seems to have that in mind when speaking of ministry. He is less concerned about the minister’s growth, and much more focused on how our suffering blesses others. Hence, the title of this post: No pain (for me), no gain (for you). He stresses this in one of his letters. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. 2 Cor 1.6 Earlier in the passage, Paul describes God as ‘the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort’. What beautiful words to describe God—a loving Father whose heart of compassion is towards his children, and a sovereign God who works in his power for the comfort of his people. The word comfort—paraklésis—doesn’t just mean a pat on the back. It’s rich with overtones of encouragement and undertones of exhortation. It describes the act of giving strength to others and spurring them on. It also contains the idea that we come alongside others, put our arms around their shoulders, and help them bear their weight as they limp onwards. That’s what our Father does for us. By the indwelling Spirit, who is the Parakletos, he carries us along as we endure distress. But the comfort of our Father can also come to us through others. For example, Titus brought comfort to Paul (2 Cor 7.6). If you need support from someone, reach out to Living Leadership, and we’ll seek to offer that. Your Father knows and he cares. He is always with you by his Spirit and also available through your brothers and sisters in Christ. Growth through suffering—and God’s comfort—is one thing, but Paul is onto something a little different. He says his suffering is for the Corinthians. His pain is their gain. How, exactly, did Paul expect the comfort he had received from God to comfort the Corinthians? I think there are two aspects. GROWTH AS A MINISTER First, Paul believed that his own suffering—and God’s consequent comfort—made him a better minister. It helped him become more effective in caring for others. He doesn’t endorse his suffering as a blessing, nor does he argue that all suffering leads to our good. He’s being more precise. He’s claiming that the kind of suffering he’s experienced has specifically prepared him to care for others going through similar pain. Those who rely upon the promises of God in dire straits are able to proclaim them more powerfully to others. Those who have felt the uplifting arms of God can more fully embrace those who are fainting. APPROPRIATE SELF-DISCLOSURE Paul didn’t hide his suffering. How could he? They had witnessed some for themselves. But he goes out of his way to remind the Corinthians of what they already knew. Indeed, he adds new details in one of his letters. We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers and sisters, about the troubles we experienced in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired of life itself. 2 Cor 1.8 In short, Paul is modelling appropriate self-disclosure. Importantly I’m talking here about self-discloure about our weaknesses in our ministry with those we lead. That is a different matter than confessing our sins to others to seek help to live faithfully. Ministers must seek accountability and those who have committed serious leadership abuses must confess and submit themselves to the proper authorities. My focus in this post is not on those matters but on the kind of self-disclosure Paul models in 2 Corinthians - sharing with those we lead something of our internal struggles for their benefit. How can ministers know what to share about themselves in their preaching and pastoral cnversations? I have seen how disastrous it can be when ministers over-share their struggles or do it in a way that seems to be only for their own benefit rather than also for the benefit of those they lead. It can be a distraction from the gospel or even a way of manipulating people. (‘I can’t raise any concerns with my minister, because he has his own struggles’.) Another danger is sharing about past traumas when we are not ready or able to do so without reopening our own wounds. Certainly, some people have effective ministries that arise from being able to help others through traumas similar to their own experiences (e.g., abuse, miscarriage, depression etc.). But this is a choice, which should be guided by wisdom and good counsel, not an obligation. Having said this, however, it’s my observation that many ministers err on the side of under-disclosing. They never share about their own struggles in sermons and rarely do so in pastoral conversations. Even then, they speak generally and not specifically. We can learn from the apostle Paul here. Pastoral ministry is relational and in relationships we share ourselves with others. By sharing appropriately from real life experience, we help people see not only what they should do but how they can do it. We paint a realistic picture of the life of faith. Here are some principles to help us follow Paul’s example. Don’t share when you’re in the thick of the struggle. Do so after the event, when you have had time to reflect on what God has taught you. Only share about past traumas after you’ve undergone sufficient healing and if you believe, by God’s grace, that you can do so without retraumatising yourself. If you choose to share, then it’s advisable to have a close friend/mentor to lean on, someone with whom you can pray both before and after sharing. Be honest and open about how an experience has impacted you. Don’t downplay how tough it was. Be discrete about details of sins or struggles that won’t edify others. As an example, Paul speaks of a ‘thorn in the flesh,’ clearly something very personal but which remains unnamed.* Testify to God as the one who sustained you. Direct people’s gaze to Christ and how you appreciated him as Saviour, Lord and sustainer. If possible, share the specific truth about God (or his promise) that kept you going. His promise to raise the dead (2 Cor 1.9) and the sufficiency of his grace (2 Cor 12.9) are two examples. Help people to frame their struggles with an eye to their eternal future. Paul often refers to his hope of the resurrection. If we follow these principles, our self-disclosure can be a blessing to others. It is a valuable tool. Ministry can be very challenging. At times it is painful, but we know our struggles are not in vain. Indeed, God has designed it so that our pain can be used for the gain of others. To encourage and draw them closer to the one who loves and sustains them. For his glory.

Remember Batfink? No, I didn’t think so. You probably didn’t grow up watching obscure cartoons on Saturday mornings in the 1980s. Or maybe you did! Batfink was one of my favourites—a super-hero . . . and a bat! No, he wasn’t related to the caped crusader. No spotlights in the sky. Batfink was a funny-looking bat, complete with bright yellow lycra suit and red boots and gloves, who arrived just in time to save the day. But his defining feature was his metallic wings which gave rise to his catch-phrase—which sticks with me to this day—‘My wings are like a shield of steel’. And it’s that catchphrase I want to draw your attention to today. My wings are like a shield of steel. I’ve been wondering if perhaps we sometimes use prayer requests like that. It’s an unhealthy habit I first spotted during my time at bible college. My year was organised into small groups with the aim of fostering relational connection and pastoral care. My group included a wise, challenging, and godly theologian whose married name is now Rebecca McLaughlin. You may have heard of her. As we were sharing prayer requests one week, she challenged the largely male group with words to this effect: ‘Stop asking for prayer for your wife—I want to know how I can pray for you personally.’ I’m not quoting her precisely—she would have expressed herself more graciously—but her point was profound. This time of prayer was meant to be a way of deepening our relationships and supporting one another. But rather than revealing anything about ourselves, we were directing the prayer attention elsewhere. Whether this was a conscious act or not is a moot point. The result was that we didn’t really get to know each other any more deeply. Relational depth suffered. Let me be clear that it’s not a bad thing to ask for prayer for your wife. And no doubt there are times when this really is the most important request you can make. Please pray for my wife, she’s facing huge challenges right now. But this is to miss the point. As I reflect on this now, I can see a pattern that has repeated itself over and over again through the years, in many different groups and contexts. Enter Batfink. Prayer requests can become like ‘shields of steel’. We use them to protect ourselves. We direct our friends’ attention away from us and towards what we consider to be more ‘noble’ and important causes. And if we’re honest with ourselves, we do this to avoid self-disclosure, honesty, and vulnerability. I was reminded of this recently during a conversation with a friend (who’s also in full-time ministry). His wife had noticed a similar pattern in the way he responded to requests for prayer. Let’s call her Sally (not her real name). Is there any hope for us inveterate Batfink pray-ers? Well, Batfink had a second catchphrase. ‘My supersonic sonar radar will help me!’ I confess this is how my brain has stored the memory, but it is from almost forty years ago! Perhaps it lacked the ‘sonar’. I can’t be sure. But you can’t miss the point, can you? His supersonic sonar radar had the power to cut through things. It was his secret weapon and it helped him save the day. I think Sally had come up with just such a supersonic sonar radar to help us cut through the prayer request impasse. She had noticed that her husband, like me and many others, possessed a real nervousness about sharing deeply. At times, we have steel-like shields around our hearts. Speaking theologically, our default position has more in common with Adam’s ‘behind the bush’ behaviour in Genesis 3 than with exhibiting our freedom in Christ. Sally’s secret weapon solution? When we ask someone, ‘how can I pray for you?’ and they request prayer for their friend, Algernon, she recommends a supersonic sonar radar response. Here it is. ‘I don’t know Algernon, but I would love to pray for you. How is Algernon’s situation affecting you? How is it making you feel? What can I pray for you that might be of help to Algernon?’ So much better. She’s Batfink! So, what is she suggesting? Like a good counsellor, she is refusing to be misdirected. She remains laser-focused on her priority, which is to show intentional care for the person in front of her. I won’t let you hide. I want to show I care for you, so please answer one of these questions. We can talk about Algernon another time. This is your time. Those are her thoughts. As I listened to Sally’s suggestion, I realised it would help me when leading a prayer meeting myself. No more hiding and misdirection among those gathered to share and connect more deeply. But I also felt challenged personally. I know this is an area in which I also need to grow. At times, my own ‘wings of steel’ need to be clipped. What about you? When someone next asks you, ‘how can I pray for you?’ how wiIl you respond? May I suggest a few possibilities? I will start by being honest about the challenges I’m facing, asking for prayer for myself. I will be as open as I can, without being inappropriate about my boundaries. I’m quite aware of what can be shared in a group, and what should only be for the ears of my spouse and counsellor. If I’m feeling weak, I will admit that I’m feeling weak. If I need advice, I will seek it. I will not hide or pretend. I will avoid the bad habit of directing attention towards others in order to hide or protect myself. As you grow in this area, I encourage you to use a supersonic sonar radar response when you hear others straying into this bad Batfink habit of using a ‘shield of steel.’ I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but people tend to mirror the openness of the leader. If we are open, vulnerable, and honest, others feel that they have permission to act in a similar manner. So we need to take initiative in this area. We cannot allow our communities to become places where people hide. They are hiding for a reason, and normally it has to do with their own hidden pain. God cares about that, and his grace is abundant. So it’s time we cared enough to ‘push’ a little, to express our desire to pray specifically for those whom God has placed in our circle. For them. Not Algernon. Not their relatives. For them. When we say, ‘how can I pray for you?’ we must mean it. We must break down those ‘shields of steel’ we place around our hearts. And we must encourage others by stepping forward ourselves and being honest about our own struggles. Not Algernon’s. St. Paul has given us a wonderful example of vulnerability, and so I leave you with the following verse from his second letter to the Corinthians. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. 2 Cor 12.9b-10

Earlier this year, in an attempt to be freed from the tyranny of the diary, I began taking one day a month out of my normal routine to spend time alone with God. The following is a reflection from one such recent day How do I listen to God? How do I attune my ears to hear God? How do I know that it’s God who is speaking? How do I drown out the things that are not God so that I can hear him? I’m hearing God today in the swooshing of the waters lapping up against the sea wall. I’m hearing God today in the chirping of the birds. I’m hearing God today in the conversations of passers-by. How am I able to say that I’m hearing God in these things? Well, I believe God is in all of these things. God is the Creator—the One who poured the water into the large basin of the sea and made the tides. God is the Creator who released the birds into the air and who watches over them. Indeed, he cares for each one of them. And yet how much more does he care for you and I? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Matt 6.26 God is in the conversations of the passers-by because he has put those people together. They may not be aware of him. They may be completely oblivious of his existence, yet we can detect in each of our fellow humans something of the fingerprint, the DNA, the mark, of our Creator. We should never forget that he put us together in his image (Gen 1.26). So how do I hear God? The more years I spend in ministry, the more I realise that I must be intentional in hearing God. Some days it’s very possible to go through a whole 24-hour period and give not a thought to these things. But as we block out the extraneous distractions, rather than emptying our minds (as proposed by the mindfulness movement), we are guided to a far better approach, found in Philippians 4.8. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil 4.8 When we do that, and when we have successfully eliminated the busyness and noise that distracts and diverts, then we can begin to notice God. We can start listening to him in the general day-to-day of life; we can hear him speaking through all that surrounds us. But how do we then listen in a way that’s personal? . . . In the way that Samuel was taught to listen? How do we listen in a way that elicits a response from us, which mimics that of the young boy in the temple sitting under the tutelage of his mentor, the priest Eli? Speak, Lord, for Your servant is listening. 1 Sam 3.9b Ultimately, this is about relationship. When two people start a relationship that is heading towards marriage, there is a great deal they do not know about each other. Indeed, it is the mystery, the intrigue that is so alluring and exciting. As they move from initial romance towards the prospect of a life commitment, they do so by spending time together, driven by a desire to know and be known. In the same way, the relationship that we have with God does not begin and end on day one. Eugene Peterson calls our relationship with God ‘A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.’ For each one of us, a new day presents a fresh opportunity to listen to God, to attune our ears to him. I’m particularly drawn to the words in Psalm 40. I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. Ps 40.1 In the ESV, the wording is ‘he inclined to me and heard my cry’. It’s a tender yet potent image, isn’t it? In my mind, I see a dad leaning over the cot of his newborn baby. As he does so, he tunes in to the child’s cries. He bends his shape, leaning down to hear the baby. What a kind, loving heavenly father. Surely if he takes time to seek this kind of intimacy, we should reciprocate and lean in to listen to him. Surely this is the very minimum of a heart responding in worship and trust. Indeed, he invites us to draw near, to seek him, promising us that he will respond. Hear the words of James. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Jas 4.8a In writing this post, I’ve realised how much more I need to listen to my loving God. I must learn to block out distractions. In fact, I must cast aside anything that robs me of the pleasure of hearing him. I have a desperate need to hear him. For he has inclined towards me and has heard my cry. He knows me, hears me, cares for me. Now I must listen to his voice. Jesus himself often went off to a secluded place to spend time alone with his heavenly father. Someone once likened this to a call home from a faraway land. I wonder what you need to do today to place yourself in a position where you can hear God? He is speaking. Are you listening? Editor’s Note: Recently, I (Richard) finished reading Hearing God by Dallas Willard. I cannot recommend it enough. It is full of wisdom on this important subject.