pastoral ministry

Embracing Vulnerability as a Christian Leader

/ Richard Bargas / Leave a comment

“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.

Not All Glory is Gold

/ Richard Bargas / 1 Comment

“I do not receive glory from men;…How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another and you do not seek the glory that is from the only God?” (John 5:41, 44 LSB)

The glory of men is intoxicating. I know a lot of Christians who won’t touch alcohol, but I see many who constantly sip at the bottle of glory. What’s that saying about pointing at others and there are three fingers pointing back at you? Yes, in many ways we struggle with receiving glory from men.

In a section of John 5, Jesus is instructing the Jews about His identity, and they are very clear on at least one thing, Jesus is “making Himself equal with God” (Jn 5:18). As Jesus teaches, He doesn’t try to diffuse the bomb he has handed to them, but rather adds more gunpowder to the already explosive conversation.

Christ speaks about being able to break the Sabbath, and how he keeps the Father’s will perfectly. This includes the power to judge and give life. Both of these references were not meant to simply refer to common everyday judgment and life-giving actions, but rather to the eternal prerogative of God, to cast into hell or raise into heaven, as well as to raise the dead in the resurrection.

These verses, and the self-reference to the title “Son of Man” (Jn 5:27) refer to Daniel’s vision of the Son of Man being given such powers from the Ancient of Days, the Father.

All of these are powerful references and images that pull back the mask of Jesus’ full identity, showing to his audience that He is more than the carpenter’s son from Nazareth.

In this mix of self-revelation, Jesus adds the truth about these self-righteous leaders. They loved to honor one another, give one another honorific titles, and pat each other on the back. We read about Jesus chastening them often over their self-congratulatory attitudes. And when I read about this, I often see a not too dim reflection of what I see in myself and in many of my fellow Christians at times.

Sometimes called a “humble brag” or couched in “praise reports” or displayed in our Instagram, X, or Facebook feeds, we see the boasting of those who acknowledge that pride is a sin. And when we see another fall, we hear the roar of prideful men speaking with what appears to get the back-slapping approval of their fellow Christians, I am reminded of how cancerous our pride can be.

I, for one, am not done with my personal fight with pride in my own heart. When I am walking in the Spirit, I don’t want to steal the glory from God, and I don’t want to garner the praises of men. So that means I need to watch carefully my life and doctrine, because pride is always there, lurking in the shadows not too far away.

Pastors or Shopkeepers?

/ Richard Bargas / 2 Comments

“The pastors of America have metamorphosed into a company of shopkeepers and the shops they keep are churches. They are preoccupied with shopkeeper’s concerns-how to keep the customers happy, how to lure customers away from competitors down the street, how to package the goods so that the customers will lay out more money. The marketing strategies of the fast-food franchise occupy the waking minds of these entrepreneurs; while asleep they dream of the kind of success that will get the attention of journalists.” —Eugene Peterson

Peterson’s statement strikes at the root of the modern evangelical church today. Don’t speak on controversial issues. Make sure your social media strategy keeps up with the latest trends. Watch where the “market” is driving the tastes of the most “customers” and shift your marketing strategy in that direction. God help us.

What might look like “market dominance” and “success” in this false narrative for so many of these types of ministries will turn out to be more like cotton candy. Appealing to the eyes and the flesh, and yet truly amounting to just a little bit of colored sugar spun into a frenzy that appeals to children and those who hunger for flash over substance.

Give me a church where men stand before their congregation and open up their Bibles and thunder, “Thus says the Lord.” They aren’t harvesting social media followers or their brand. They aren’t gathering up lieutenants who are loyal to them more than to Jesus. No, these men and the churches they lead are content to be faithful and be forgotten.

These types of men aren’t tending to their shops, strategizing how they can better market to the masses under the guise that they are doing evangelism. These men are more on their knees than on TikTok, more in the Word than on Instagram. Instead of selfies they are selfless. Instead of harvesting followers, they are walking with the Savior in humble obedience.

It’s not flashy. It’s doesn’t draw a crowd. But the world doesn’t need a phenom, or a CEO. We need pastors who will gently lead us to Jesus.

The Reluctant Pastor

/ Richard Bargas / Leave a comment

“…shepherd the flock of God among you, overseeing not under compulsion, but willingly, according to God; and not for dishonest gain, but with eagerness;” 1 Peter 5:2 (LSB)

I think that possibly every child runs into a school teacher who has had it with children. When I say this, I don’t mean the teacher that has had a rough week, or even a rough year. I mean that teacher that no longer loves teaching, and has moved beyond the loss of love to an actual disdain for students that borders on hatred. In the children’s book Matilda, this person is portrayed in the character known as Agatha Trunchbull, whom the children fearfully refer to as “The Trunchbull.” I wonder if Roald Dahl went to my high school…

I think it is tragic when a teacher reaches this stage, where what was (I assume) once a love for teaching has become drudgery and buying time until retirement. But this danger is not one that only school teachers face; pastors can fall into the same trap and patterns of ministry. No longer loving people or ministry, just buying time until retirement or Jesus returns, but mostly retirement.

As he writes to the church that is scattered abroad, Peter warns pastors, as a fellow pastor, that there is a danger of overseeing the church in such a way that one feels that they do so “under compulsion.” The calling of God has been overshadowed by a sense of duty, which has devolved into buying time until retirement. Slowly pastoral duties are left off for someone else to do, or not done at all. Small ways of serving others are replaced with complaints and a bitter heart. The pastor who reaches this stage can sometimes be heard reliving the “good old days” when people really cared about things, and how now “nobody” has a passion anymore.

The vision has died in many of these churches because it has died in the heart of its leader. No longer can the disenfranchised pastor see the crowds of people as an opportunity to proclaim Christ. Instead, the oceans of humanity are seen as a trial to be endured. The traffic, the graffiti, the constant cries of those needing help. It seems never-ending, and the burnout grows each day. There is no “eagerness” anymore. Instead, some hang on, knowing they need a few more years to reach their retirement funding goals, or maybe because they don’t have retirement funds, and so they keep pastoring in order to provide for their daily needs. The ministry has become a job, and the paycheck is the motivation as much as anything.

I write this to both young and old in ministry. Be careful. If you find yourself in ministry for the money (no matter how little or much you receive), then it’s time to leave. It would be better to serve as a volunteer while working a secular job than to serve God for financial gain. By this, I don’t mean that being supported financially is wrong–because motivation is the heart of the issue here. Peter is warning about the motivation. Do we serve King Jesus willingly, even through the hard times, long hours, and dry years, or do we put up with the Church because we think we can’t do anything else, or do we find that the path of least resistance means to stay in ministry until something easier or better comes along?

I hope that no one reading this finds themselves in this place. If you are there, take some time for prayer, seek wise counsel from a good friend who can point you to God and help you as you examine your heart and motivations, and then see where God leads. You might find that the Lord brings a refreshing breeze back to your life and ministry that will once again restore you to a place of renewed usefulness in the Lord’s house.