pastoral ministry

Peter’s Response to Criticism: A Lesson in Faith

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“Now the apostles and the brothers who were throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God. And when Peter came up to Jerusalem, those who were circumcised took issue with him, saying, “You went to uncircumcised men and ate with them.” (Acts 11:1–3, LSB)

People were saved, and yet there is criticism.

Note that even in the greatest blessings within the church, there is always at least one person (or two) willing to see the negative side. And notice that the problem they have with this is an unbiblical tradition that was broken. 

How does Peter respond? Here we have a wonderful example! Peter is calm and patient. He explains the situation, brings biblical clarity, and then humbly awaits the church to share its wisdom. In this instance, they concurred with Peter.

Had the majority agreed with the circumcision party, I do not think Peter would have bowed out and remained silent. However, his first response was to trust the Spirit to lead the leaders, and if they were not led by the Spirit, then I think Peter would have continued to passionately reason with them from the Word.

Here is the balance of Spirit and truth; shepherding and yet being shepherded. Let us learn both.

Embracing Vulnerability as a Christian Leader

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“Now a certain man was sick, Lazarus from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. And it was the Mary who anointed the Lord with perfume, and wiped His feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was sick. So the sisters sent to Him, saying, “Lord, behold, he whom You love is sick.” (John 11:1–3, LSB) 

There is an abundance of goodness in this account of Lazarus being raised from the dead by Jesus that I wish I had the time to discuss this morning. However, the opening verses convey many truths that the rest of the account confirms. Jesus loves His sheep. I’m not suggesting that Jesus only loves His sheep or that His love for them is of the same kind or quality as His love for everyone else. Nevertheless, we cannot examine the life of Christ and deny that Jesus was a loving shepherd to His sheep.

This post continues my thoughts from yesterday about Jesus being the Good Shepherd. You can read that post here. Now, in the next chapter, John 11, Jesus will once again demonstrate how deep His love is for His friends.

In this section, we are reintroduced to the siblings, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Mary has shown her love for Christ by anointing His feet with perfume and wiping His feet with her hair. Martha has been hosting Jesus and the disciples, feeding and caring for them. Lazarus is referenced in verse 3 as “he whom you love.” Jesus the Good Shepherd loves His sheep, and His sheep love Him.

This truth prompted me to reflect on several conversations I’ve had with older pastors. They warned me during my early ministry days that my wife and I should be cautious about becoming too close to those in our congregation. They indicated there was a risk in forming friendships with the people, suggesting that loving them should be maintained from a distance.

I understand. If you keep your distance, when you get burned by others (not if, but when), it will hurt less. Don’t invite them into your life, don’t share, don’t care, and you won’t hurt. All of that is true, but is it faithful? When I look at the life of the Good Shepherd, I see that He wept with those who wept. He was raw, and He even cried. When He saw that Lazarus was dead, Jesus wept (Jn 11:35) even though He knew that He would raise him to life again. 

Jesus wasn’t a cold robot. He didn’t keep people at arm’s length. He had 12 disciples with Him for three years, almost non-stop. They saw Him laugh, cry, and display every human emotion possible, yet without sin. Jesus lived among the sheep, not wrapped in a bubble or in a high tower above them. He touched both the sick and the sinner alike. Are we better than Jesus?

I have experienced many sleepless nights because my troubled heart wakes me from my sleep. I have wept with those who lost loved ones and sat with friends as they faced death. I have laughed deeply until I can hardly breathe. My brothers and sisters in Christ are some of my dearest friends on earth. I feel deeply with them and for them. That’s what love does. And that’s what the Good Shepherd did, and continues to do for His own.If you’re in ministry and someone has told you to stay distant and aloof, don’t buy it. Be wise. Be the mature, Christian leader God has called you to be. But don’t isolate yourself from the sheep to protect your own heart. That’s not only cowardly; it’s ineffective and unfaithful. Remember that a servant is not above his Master (Matt 10:24), and you’re not better than Jesus. Be like Him. Love the sheep.

Balancing Toughness and Tenderness in Pastoral Care

/ Richard Bargas / 2 Comments

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who does not enter by the door into the fold of the sheep, but climbs up some other way, he is a thief and a robber. But he who enters by the door is a shepherd of the sheep. To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he brings all his own out, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. A stranger they will never follow, but will flee from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.” (John 10:1–5, LSB)

This passage about Jesus being both the Good Shepherd and the door of the sheep pen conveys a sense of toughness and tenderness. The sheep are cared for, protected, and guided by this good shepherd. Meanwhile, the thief and robber attempt to gain access to the sheep to steal, kill, and destroy them. However, they cannot do so as long as the Good Shepherd watches over His own.

Christians cling to such imagery because it reminds us of the loving care and protection the Savior gives to us, His sheep. As a pastor, I also appreciate the picture because it reminds me of the dual nature of being a pastor as I try to model my care after Christ’s. Being tough and tender are essential elements in every biblical elder’s life and ministry.

Like many things in life, it is all too easy to fall into extremes. I see fellow pastors struggle to be tough. They are soft on sin, fail to confront, delay, or ignore the need for discipline, and tolerate false doctrine under the guise that they want to be humble. All of these are troubling and can lead a church into very dangerous situations if ignored for too long.

What I observe more frequently nowadays is the opposite extreme. I notice many younger pastors who are trying exceptionally hard to appear tough. They speak harshly and project an image of being strict about sin, particularly concerning the sins of those who don’t completely agree with them on every doctrinal issue. I witness toughness in their congregations, where any disagreement is perceived as dissent and division, met with a severity that is alien to the way Jesus dealt with his own. This portrayal is especially unappealing when found on social platforms like X, where the negativity of chest-thumping and public shaming has escalated to an alarming level. How did we get here?

Jesus used both tender and firm hands with those He encountered, even unbelievers. He understood when it was necessary to be firm and when to be gentle. He rebuked “that fox,” Herod, yet was gracious to the woman at the well and the woman caught in adultery. He wasn’t being lenient on sin. He wasn’t condoning their life choices. Jesus never turned away when sin needed to be addressed. It’s not “tenderness” when we compromise by allowing sin to continue without confrontation or resolution. 

But Jesus didn’t always “bring down the hammer” when He saw sin in others. After all, everyone He met was guilty in some way or another! “If You should keep iniquities, O Yah, O Lord, who could stand? But with You there is forgiveness, That You may be feared” (Psalm 130:3–4, LSB). Instead, Jesus aimed for the hearts of those He walked among. He was more direct with the hard-hearted, and He was gentler with the bruised and broken (“A crushed reed He will not break And a faintly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will bring forth justice in truth” (Isaiah 42:3, LSB).

The Good Shepherd was both tender and tough. Regardless of our natural tendencies, we must strive to embody the heart of our Good Shepherd, who was neither lenient toward sin nor harsh with the broken and weak. By doing so, we will more closely reflect the heart of our Master.

Improving Writing Skills as a Pastor

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As a pastor, I wouldn’t write anything that I would consider “formal,” such as articles, papers, or books. After seminary, papers became a thing of the past, but they taught me both good and bad habits. Seminary papers are often meant to be technical and, to be honest, are not the most enjoyable to read. They can be tedious because they are so precise and focus on the minute details of a biblical text that interest scholars, but not most other people. It can take a while for a newly minted seminary graduate to break away from that style of writing when preparing his sermons. If you’ve ever heard a message given by one of these young men, then you know exactly what I’m talking about.

I began leading a church as their pastor after my first year of seminary. I knew I wasn’t ready yet, but the church was small and needed someone to guide them, and my pastor was confident that with his help and guidance, I would be okay. I found that the combination of experience with the congregation, time spent in seminary classrooms, and hours spent reading had a positive effect on me. The reading assignments and papers I wrote had focus and purpose. They reflected the idea of the pastor-scholar, the shepherd who invests deeply in his studies so that he can frequently emerge to tend to the sheep with loving care and deep devotion. Being a scholar is a lot of work, and so is being a shepherd of God’s sheep. But merging the two is a joyful labor that offers the best of both worlds.

I write all of this because it was in this laboratory of the local church that I truly began writing in a different way. In serving my local church, I was writing—but not on exegetical minutiae; nor was I producing the emotional devotional material typically found in church newsletters. Mainly focusing on expositions, my writing aimed to merge the deeper thoughts of the biblical text with practical applications and illustrations. Making hard concepts understandable for the person in the pew was a labor of love.

I have once again begun writing for this blog because I need to continue honing my writing. I write for the Voice magazine and constantly edit the content we create. But writing takes a certain amount of practice and discipline if you want to become a decent writer. I want to grow in this area, and so I need to write every day, if possible.

Our world is shifting from humans to machines. Artificial intelligence, like social media, is changing our environment. People have shorter attention spans, read less, and possess less patience for anything longer than a few brief sentences. This has also impacted how people write. Younger generations struggle with spelling, at least without the aid of auto-correct. Many can’t write in longhand (cursive). Additionally, crafting sentences that flow smoothly and are readable is becoming increasingly rare. I often read news articles from major outlets that are filled with typographical errors. Just yesterday, I read a scholarly journal article packed with misspelled words. This reflects both poor writing and inadequate editing. I mention this not to throw stones but to encourage you to personally combat this tide of dehumanization. Read books. Write. Sharpen your craft if you are a pastor.

If you’d like to sample some of my more formal writing for the IFCA International magazine, The Voice, you can read it here. I have written the first article in each issue for about six years. I am greatly indebted to the many fine writers we feature, which makes our magazine an excellent blend for the church of the pastor-scholar ideal.

Shifting Focus from Celebrities to Christ

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I came across the following quote from Gregory the Great (Bishop of Rome from 590-604 AD):

“That man is an enemy of his Redeemer who on the strength of the good works he performs, desires to be loved by the Church, rather than by Him [Christ]. Indeed, a servant is guilty of adulterous thought, if he craves to please the eyes of the bride when the bridegroom sends gifts to her by him.”1

A lot of Christians have noted that the “celebrity Christian” thing is weird and should be done away with. Yet, after one falls, another begins to rise to the top and quickly takes the last one’s place. There are a lot of issues related to the celebrity culture, but my aim in this post is to point out that the celebrity Christian thing is not only wrong, it’s adulterous.

When we put men or women on a pedestal, we divert the eyes of the world and other Christians away from Christ and onto a man. And when we seek to be the one on that pedestal, we desire to be the one who draws the eyes.

Tradition in the United States is that no other woman should wear white to a wedding other than the bride-to-be. Why? It is because the eyes of the guests, and especially of the groom, should be on the bride. So what happens when there are competitors? And not just wearing white, but seeking to catch the attention of the groom? Gregory is correct in stating that this is adulterous and marks such a person as an enemy of the groom, Jesus Christ.

Some who crave the spotlight would say that my comments and those of others who decry celebrity culture are simply a result of jealousy over their success, and that they are seeking a way to point others to Jesus. Yet, I don’t see these tactics used in the Bible. Instead, Jesus said, “And I, if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Myself” (John 12:32, LSB).

May we see more Christians with the attitude of George Whitefield:

“Let the name of Whitefield perish, but Christ be glorified. Let my name die everywhere, let even my friends forget me, if by that means the cause of the blessed Jesus may be promoted. . . . I am content to wait till the judgment day for the clearing up of my reputation; and after I am dead, I desire no other epitaph than this, “Here lies G. W. What sort of man he was the great day will discover.”2

  1. Gregory the Great, Pastoral Care, trans. Henry David, Ancient Christian Writers 11 (New York: Newman Press, 1950), 75. Quoted in Harold L. Senkbeil, The Care of Souls: Cultivating a Pastor’s Heart (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2019), 117. ↩︎
  2. Arnold A. Dallimore, George Whitefield: The Life and Times of the Great Evangelist of the Eighteenth-Century Revival (2 vols.) (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1980),2:257-258. ↩︎