The Foolish, Isolated Pastor

And you say, “How I have hated discipline! And my heart spurned reproof! I have not listened to the voice of my instructors, And I have not inclined my ear to my teachers!”  (Proverbs 5:12–13, LSB)

This week I began recording a series in our IFCA podcast Advancing the Cause asking the question: Who Shepherds the Pastor? In this series, I am hoping to draw attention to the fact that all followers of Christ, pastors and elders included, need to have someone (preferably a few people) who watches over their soul.

This morning’s Scripture reading once again brought this necessity to my mind in the context of a father (Solomon) warning his sons about the lure of adultery.

Solomon imparts wise words on how to avoid the pitfalls of lust and adulterous relationships. He employs the eventual fate of the adulterer as a deterrent, illustrating the consequences of disregarding this wisdom and remaining faithful to marriage vows.

Solomon’s words apply to more than the destructive effect of adultery. In fact, they are applicable to everyone who comes to the end of their foolish ways and begins to regret their unwillingness to listen to the voices of reason and warning that preceded their downfall.

In regard to church leaders, this is a particular danger. Some pastors, by virtue of their small church, are often the lone leader. Others, by design, have isolated themselves from any other critics. Either way, the results are the same—words of warning are either unspoken or silenced.

I can’t think of anyone I know who enjoys being confronted for their sin. Confrontation is like good medicine. It’s bitter, but it helps where needed. We take it because we know the alternative is worse.

In reality, biblical counsel is beneficial. However, the challenge for many is that we understand the right things intellectually, yet we turn our hearts away, much like a young child turning away from the bitter syrup in a spoon, lips tightly pressed in rebellious refusal. While this child’s behavior may be considered childish if they are too young to comprehend the consequences of refusing their medicine, if they are old enough to understand and still resist, their childishness has transformed into foolishness.

Pastors are not naive or spiritual children. Instead, they understand the profound impact of the Word on the heart’s pain and brokenness caused by sin. However, they often take on the role of spiritual mother rather than the stubborn child. At least, that’s what we commonly believe.

Perhaps we’ve fallen prey to a subtle deception that acknowledges our imperfections, as all redeemed Christians do, yet still struggles with sin… but not excessively. Our congregants require the medicine, but we, we’re too mature to need it frequently. But is that truly the case?

If you’re a spiritual leader in the Church, you need someone to watch over your soul. Just like a medical doctor, who is still susceptible to illness, his medical expertise and training don’t prevent common colds. Physicians require the guidance of other physicians. Similarly, pastors need to be pastored. We need someone to use the rod and staff to guide and correct us through the Word of God.

To avoid such a relationship is foolish. Rejecting correction and warnings will lead us to a similar fate as the adulterer in Proverbs 5:12-14. As God’s children, we all need each other. Don’t believe the lie that you’re an exception. There are no exceptions. Don’t become the foolish, isolated Christians who, one day, look up and find their life in shambles, with their family and ministry forfeited because they refused to listen.

Guard your heart with all diligence, for from it flow the springs of life.” (Proverbs 4:23, LSB)

Balancing Toughness and Tenderness in Pastoral Care

“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.

Don’t Just Tell Them What to Do (weekend repost)

It’s no accident that the New Testament uses the term “pastors” because of the similarities of the duties of Christian leaders and the herdsmen of the time. The pastor or sheep-herder/shepherd was to constantly be among his sheep, tending them, feeding them, watching over them, leading them, and caring for them personally.

Read the rest of the post here: Don’t Just Tell Them What to Do