We are ordaining and installing a new class of elders and deacons this morning.
We have some talented, dedicated people coming into office; and we are blessed
to have them. In fact, we ought to thank God for them, because although we
elected them, their calling came from God. It had to. It would be unfair for us
to ask anyone to bear the burden that they will carry. Only God could ask such a
thing. To understand why, we will need to consider what their burden is and why
it is heavy. Then let us all tremble, lest the finger of God fall upon us as
well.
When I was ordained, the pastors and elders assembled came to the front of the
sanctuary. I kneeled. They laid hands on me. And one of them prayed. That
ordination prayer was a long one, and there were so many people down front that
many of them had to reach in. As the prayer went on, they began to lean more and
put more weight on their arms. A lot of arms. A lot of weight. And the pressure
on me grew heavier and heavier. I thought by the end I would be crushed. Now,
they did not mean to do it. In fact probably no one of them realized the
cumulative effect of his or her slight pressure. Nevertheless, I learned
something about ordained ministry through the experience. When you are ordained,
you pick up a heavy load. You carry it out of love for God and his people, but
it is a burden. Woe to anyone who receives ordination without taking up this
mantle of responsibility. Woe to any who wears it carelessly.
If you want me to be perfectly honest—and I suspect you do because you listen
when I preach and because I expect open honesty from any who dares to speak for
God—I will tell you this truth: In a way I feel sorry for the people we ordain.
I feel sympathy for those of us who have been called to lead. Not, however, for
the reasons you might expect. I feel sorry for them because the job is hard and
God will hold them accountable. I know this fear myself, and I constantly plead
the mercy of Christ, for who among us is equal to the task.
I do not feel sorry for elders and deacons because of the petty stuff, the
ticky-tacky stuff. Nothing gets done without meetings, so leaders have to go to
meetings. So what? We have an efficient system at Westminster, at least in
theory. We don’t waste hours and hours just sitting around. Anything worth doing
requires a little work, and the business of the church is worth doing. Officers
have to deal with difficult people sometimes. So what? Doesn’t everybody?
Anytime you deal with people, you have difficult moments. That’s part of it.
None of the reasons people give (or have) for not wanting to be ordained is the
reason I feel sorry for officers. I feel sorry for them simply because the job
is hard and God will hold us accountable. A couple of examples: God will not
hold the elders on the session accountable for the size of our budget—that is,
how much money comes in. But God will hold us accountable for (a) whether we
taught people how to give generously and joyfully and (b) how well the money the
church receives is used. God will not hold us accountable for the size of our
congregation. But God will hold us accountable for (a) how we reached out into
our community and (b) how faithfully we proclaimed the gospel in word and deed.
Danger lurks here. If the budget is good and the pews are full, we consider
ourselves successful. Yet these things may happen, even though we fail in our
work. Or we may succeed in God’s eyes, but fail in our own. We must be clear
what our calling is, what God expects of us, and the measure he will use. For a
pastor, the question is not “Do people like you?” but rather “Do you tell them
the truth?” For deacons, it is not just “Did you see to their physical needs?”
but “Did you give them hope?” For elders it is not “Did you keep the church
going and maybe leave it in better shape than you found it in?” but rather “Did
you lead the church to do God’s will?” These are the questions we must answer
when we stand before God’s throne of judgment. Life (and death!) is easier for
those who do not bear responsibility for leading God’s people. If, however, God
has chosen you, there is nothing you can do but answer his call.
There are two kinds of people I pity more than church officers. The first is
anyone who does not know Jesus Christ. I pity them the most. Second is anyone
who answers “no” when God calls that person to lead. You see, if God calls you
to lead, you will be held accountable whether you surrender to your calling or
not. You cannot choose to be called or un-called, only faithful or unfaithful.
The elder, deacon, or pastor who feels inadequate but resolves to do his or her
best will find God gracious and merciful. Not only will God forgive your
failings, he will also work through your weakness, often in ways that will
surprise you. The person called to be an elder, deacon, or pastor who refuses
the call has much to fear.
Jonah should teach us that. Jonah is the Bible’s poster boy for the truth that
God does not like to take “no” for an answer. “The word of the Lord came to
Jonah,” Scripture tells us, “saying, ‘Go!’ … But Jonah set out to flee to
Tarshish from the presence of the Lord.” Jonah made two mistakes right off the
bat. First, he tried to flee from the Lord. We can hardly blame him for that,
however. Many who are called resist at first. Always have. Always will.
Especially those who see clearly what God wants from them. Jonah’s second
mistake, however, was juvenile. It shows he lacked the theological
sophistication of a grade 3 Sunday school student. Jonah tried to run away from
God by going someplace God wasn’t. Here is another warning! God will often call
people whom no sane human would think to call. Jonah is clueless about God, yet
God calls him to do the most important prophetic work of his day. You realize
what this means? No one is safe. God might call any of us!
I am not here to bash Jonah, but to give you an even more serious warning. In my
inexcusable pride, I think I might be smarter than Jonah was. I think I know the
one place he could have hidden from God. It might not have worked, but then
again, it might have. I have seen others use it successfully—some for years,
some for a lifetime.
If I had been around back then, and Jonah had come to me seeking advice, here is
what I would have told him: “So, God has called you and you don’t want to
answer? You want, in fact, to hide from God? I know one place you might
succeed—the Temple in Jerusalem. Wait! Wait. I know it sounds crazy, so hear me
out. You can never run away from God. He is everywhere. But you can run from his
call by only pretending to answer it. Suppose God wants you to be an elder—a
leader of God’s people. How can you hide? Attend church regularly. Do few things
here and there. Talk a good talk. Act like a model Christian, but don’t be an
elder. With any luck you’ll be able to fool everyone in the congregation and
even yourself. So, Jonah, I say go to the Temple, make a sizable donation, offer
some sacrifices, and if you have to, take up preaching. Stand outside and offer
encouraging words to people going in. Tell him how glorious God is and how much
he loves his people. Tell them things you know they will be happy to hear. Soon
you will gain a reputation for being a godly prophet. You will be popular and
respected. Who knows, maybe you’ll get to write a few pages of the Bible? I
don’t know what God will do, but I know running away on a boat only invites
disaster, so take my advice and avoid God’s call by pretending to be religious.
It has worked for others. It may work for you.”
I hope you see the danger I want to warn you about. It is closely related to my
previous warning about God holding us accountable for the work God has given us
to do, which is not necessarily what we assume we ought to do. A pastor, an
elder, a deacon—even an entire congregation—can hide from God by playing church.
I have seen it. It is easy. You go through the motions. You keep things going
the same way they always have. Maybe you are lax in your duties or maybe you are
a hard worker. In either case, the one thing you never bother to do is seek
God’s will for your ministry or the church’s ministry.
There are tell tale signs of playing church: not enough prayer, leaders not
interested in scripture or doctrine, preserving the institution of the church or
the status quo justifies most decisions, a general lack of interest in those
outside the church, and being content with worldly success such as bigger
buildings. In contrast, a Session or a church serious in its calling is
characterized by a heart for the lost, compassion, outward focus, costly love
among its members, and constantly turning to God for strength, wisdom, and
guidance.
When any Christian stands before God’s throne of judgment, God will ask: Did you
love me above all else? Did you love others in my name? Did you believe the
gospel? Did you share it? What is at stake is not our eternal destiny. That
depends on Christ alone. Still this judgment matters because our whole life is
in the balance. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 3 about God judging Christian
leaders. He said if any build with gold, silver, or precious stones, the work
will last and the builder will be rewarded. But if any build with wood, hay, or
straw, the work will perish but “the builder will be saved, but only as through
fire.”
When a Christian leader stands before God. God will ask the same questions he
asks of all Christians, with a couple more: Not just, “Did you do these things?”
But also, “Did you teach others to do them? Did you lead others to do them?”
One last warning, as if I haven’t given you enough, but this is a different kind
of warning. Do not think, because I have impressed upon you the seriousness of
your calling, that you have been given a prison sentence … because the opposite
is true.
If you want to find joy … if you want to make the most of your life and make it
count … if you want to make a real difference, both now and in eternity, then
thank God he has called you to lead and serve. There is no more important work
than the work of God’s kingdom. There is no other hope for the world than Jesus
Christ. The mantle of leadership is so heavy because the work matters so much.
And when you throw yourself into it with abandon, you will find that the grace
of God sustains you, and you will discover a joy you can have in no other way.
Plus, if Paul is correct, God rewards his faithful servants. You will not lose a
moment of time or an single opportunity that God will not restore many times
over. Even if you give your whole life, what is that compared to eternity?
Serving God as an elder, deacon, or pastor is like riding a bicycle. You must do
it all the way or not at all. Imagine a boy who has just learned to ride a
bicycle, but he doesn’t trust it. So he straddles the bike, puts on foot on a
pedal, and with the other foot on the road he limps along. That is how some
Christians try to do ministry—halfway. It is hard and will quickly tire you out.
Soon you’ll think, “Hey, it would be easier just to walk!” And like Jonah you
slink away from your calling. But what happens when the boy trusts the bike and
goes all in? Pretty soon he’s flying along, and riding becomes easier than
walking. He can go farther and faster. He has more joy.
So, yes, I admit it: leading God’s people is serious, difficult work. And God
will hold us accountable. But, you cannot escape your calling—whatever it is.
You can only choose to be faithful or not. Plus, the joys and rewards of
faithfulness are rich and many. There is no higher calling or better way to live
your life. Therefore, let us thank God for his calling … and for the leaders he
gives us. And let us each, whatever our calling may be, resolve to be faithful.
Amen.