CHAPTER 12

JESUS-CENTERED MINISTRY

A minister may fill his pews, his communion roll, the mouths of the public, but what that minister is on his knees in secret before God Almighty, that he is and no more.

~ John Owen1

There comes a point in every relationship when you have the “DTR.”

DTR stands for “define the relationship” and is used to describe a heart-level conversation between a couple, sometimes for the good and sometimes not. In reality, a DTR is necessary for any healthy relationship. It clarifies expectations and terms. It provides an honest sense of evaluation and status. It gives insight into how (and if) things should move forward. In fact, the DTR usually stands as a marker in the life of the relationship, whether in terms of progress or cessation. In either case, there is greater clarity.

In a sense, Jesus called His disciples together in Matthew 16 to have a little DTR. They had walked with Jesus, learned from His teaching, experienced His miracles, and witnessed His healings. The good news of the kingdom was going forth, and Jesus’ public ministry was gaining traction.

But where was all this going? There was talk of Him in religious circles, and common people were filled with a variety of curiosities about Him. But who was Jesus . . . really? What was the purpose of His ministry? And what did His disciples have to do with it?

Those were the kinds of questions swirling around as Jesus and the disciples ventured into Caesarea Philippi, where a conversation would unfold with life-changing implications for His disciples then and now.

A region wrought with idolatry and pagan worship, Caesarea Philippi was teeming with false gods. Herod the Great had erected a temple for pagan worship of the god “Pan,” and the city was formally named “Paneas” in his honor. Philip the Tetrarch had then renamed the city to pay homage to Caesar Augustus, as well as himself. It was here, in the very heart of falsehood and misrepresentation, that Jesus chose to have a conversation that would define His identity, His mission, and the nature of His relationship with His disciples.

Jesus’ Identity

It began with a simple question: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”

This was a safe question, demanding little vulnerability from the disciples. The nature of the inquiry had more to do with the word on the street. “What are you hearing about Me as you walk through the markets? What are the pundits and talking heads saying about Me?” All it demanded was a relay of information.

And this is just what the disciples did. Their answer reflected what they had gathered over the years—that people had different ideas about Jesus. Some thought He must be another one of the prophets; some thought He was a gifted teacher; others said He was obviously a man of God. Good answers.

But Jesus did not relent. The first question was safe; the second question was aimed directly at the heart: “But who do you say that I am?”

If the first question was a shotgun approach covering a widespread target audience, this one was a sniper shot. Direct and focused. There was no room for the disciples to maneuver around it. They themselves had walked with Him; they had been up-close witnesses to His work—the most “up-close” of all. This was obviously a question they should’ve already thought long and hard about, and should’ve arrived at a very personal answer.

In true form, Peter spoke up: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God!” Peter’s confession was astounding. He defined Jesus’ identity as the Messiah and Son of God—the anointed one, the long awaited hope of Israel who would fulfill every promise and prophecy of the Old Testament. Peter’s long-held understanding, along with the rest of Israel, was that the Messiah would come in triumphant victory and justice, ending oppression and restoring God’s kingdom in Jerusalem. But Peter was now convinced there was more to Him than that. Jesus, he said, was the unique Son of God. He identified Him as deity.

Jesus responded by blessing this confession and blessing Peter for making it. But as we will see, the disciples still held misguided expectations of what it meant for Jesus to be the Christ, and therefore what it meant for them to be Christians.

Jesus’ Mission

On the heels of Peter’s confession, the text says that Jesus moved the conversation from His identity to His mission: “From then on Jesus began to point out to His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders, chief priests, and scribes, be killed, and be raised the third day” (Matt. 16:21 HCSB).

This was different. Suffering didn’t seem to be congruent with the work of the Messiah. Peter and his friends, along with all of Israel, were hoping for glory and prosperity. But this reeked of shame and death. It didn’t fit with the expectations. Again, this is why a DTR is so crucial. Frustrations are birthed from unmet expectations. And Peter, elated about the identity of Jesus, had vastly different expectations about His mission. Jesus was clarifying expectations.

Peter’s frustration and confusion boiled over into a rebuke. He had just confessed that Jesus is Messiah, but now he was going to tell Jesus how to do His job. Before we are quick to point the finger of disappointment at Peter, think of how often we find ourselves doing the very same thing. Oftentimes when our life takes an unexpected turn, we question the very Lord we confess—like Peter did, who spoke up and said, “Oh no, Lord! This will never happen to You!” (Matt. 16:22 HCSB). Although Peter had correctly identified Jesus’ identity, he did not understand the nature of Jesus’ mission. So in contrast to the blessing that Peter had just received, he now received a stern rebuke: “Get behind Me, Satan! You’re an offense to Me because you’re not thinking about God’s concerns, but man’s” (v. 23 HCSB). This reply from Jesus is so forceful and strong, it takes us aback. Peter’s thinking obviously needing some rewiring because his perception of life and ministry was astonishingly off-based.

Parents are well aware of teaching moments—times along the way of raising your children when you have a unique opportunity to speak into a situation and teach. We want to be teaching as we go, but there are certain opportunities when our kids might be more receptive to hear. In this case, we can imagine Peter was primed for someone to lead him out of his fog. And he was not alone. Although Peter was the one who spoke, we can be sure the others were thinking the same thing. Now was the time for Jesus to bring the DTR full circle. They knew He was the Messiah and the Son of God, but they needed more clarity. They needed to know the full picture because their preconceived ideas were misguided.

The Messiah was going to be triumphant and provide release from oppression, but not in the way they thought. Yes, there was going to be glory, but the crown would come by way of a cross. And His disciples would follow suit.

Jesus’ Disciples

The DTR was nearing its conclusion as Jesus explained the nature of the disciples’ relationship to Christ’s identity and mission: “If anyone wants to come with Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life because of Me will find it. What will it benefit a man if he gains the whole world yet loses his life? Or what will a man give in exchange for his life?” (Matt. 16:24–26 HCSB).

Jesus’ paradigm for life and ministry is based on paradoxical intuition. This is not how we normally think, feel, or dream about life. In fact, our hearts lead us in the very opposite direction. Jesus said to the disciples that anyone and everyone who follows Him will be marked by a death to self. Jesus invoked the imagery of a cross, a clear foreshadowing of His own life mission, and declared that the cross would also be the mark of His people.

Consider how astounding this call truly is. Dietrich Bonheoffer, a German pastor and martyr during World War II, succinctly stated the mark of gospel-centered ministry: “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”2 This was the invitation of the Messiah to His disciples—a strange invitation, but not a morbid one. For Jesus continued by saying that those who accept His invitation to die will experience true life. Again, here is the paradox: life comes through death. Our attempts at self-preservation or holding on to our concepts of life and vitality prove to be empty of both life and vitality. The math just doesn’t add up. We might gain everything we thought we ever wanted only to find out that it has cost us our soul. The call to take up our cross and follow Jesus is actually a loving invitation to experience the fullness of life.

And it is a mark of gospel-centered ministry.

Yes, this loving invitation is collectively extended to the Church. Think of how many churches merely exist rather than live, survive rather than thrive. The call to life for a church is a radical call of faith. It is a call for a church to believe God when He says the crown of glory comes through the cross. It is a call for the church’s thinking and planning and structuring and operating and overall ministry to reflect God’s thinking, not man’s thinking. The natural proclivity of a church is a drift toward self-preservation rather than the radical abandonment of self. Jesus’ twist on this natural, human philosophy, then, is easier preached than practiced.

How can gospel-centered ministry mark our churches? We can be confident that our gatherings are filled with people who, like Peter, are eager to believe in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, but are unclear about what this entails. Just as the Lord redirected the heart of Peter, He continues to call the Church to take up its cross and follow Him. But before we can lead our people here, we need to be sure our own hearts are first aligned to this call.

John the Baptist explained the formula for gospel-centered ministry: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30 HCSB). Sadly, many churches today have unwittingly prescribed a different principle for success. There is a tremendous increase in the role and visibility of pastors and an unfortunate decrease of Jesus. It is far too common to see Jesus used as a means to our own selfish ends, co-opting His name to catapult ourselves onto the platform. We forget that real glory is gained through abandoning self, so we make the shameless trade for a glory that fades and is fickle. The attention can be intoxicating, creating an insatiable desire for more.

This attention seems to be irrespective of church size or notoriety. It can happen in a church of two hundred as easily as a church of two thousand . . . or twenty thousand. It is a simple stroke of the ego, an affirming feeling that we are needed. In the small creaks and crevices of our heart, the roots of self-inflated pride begin to grow.

Pride, however, is antithetical to gospel-centered ministry. The only thing we have truly earned is separation from God for all of eternity. Anything less than this is grace. Therefore, we cannot operate in a posture of pride. Humility must be the air we breathe.

How can the church nurture an atmosphere of gospel-centered ministry? How does the priestly function in a Jesus-centered culture manifest itself? We want to highlight three primary ways that God lovingly removes our self-sufficiency, reminds us of grace, and emboldens us for the call of gospel-ministry: prayer, suffering, and celebration.

The Primacy of Prayer

Prayer reveals the posture and priorities of our churches. Gospel-centered ministry, evidenced by taking up our cross and following Christ, means crucifying selfish ambition, pride, and self-sufficiency as a church. It means growing in the grace of humility and seeking to know the heart of God. Our ministry, therefore, flows out of the foundation of prayer. Prayer (or the lack thereof) is a litmus test regarding our beliefs about self-sufficiency and dependence.

Prayer is a declaration of dependence. Prayer is an invitation to intimacy. Prayer is a response to grace. Corporate prayer is a collective cry of intercession and petition for God to move in our midst, heal our brokenness, save the lost, restore the wayward, receive our worship, enliven our preaching, forgive our sins, and unify our hearts to fear His name.

The Lord has proven Himself faithful to His people, both in Scripture and throughout history, when they have humbled themselves before Him in prayer. He has granted us access to Himself through Christ and exhorted us in the Scriptures to continually approach Him with petitions. He has kept His people near to Him in dependence and protected them with infinite graces. So in prayer, we experience a deep growth in intimacy and love for Him, as well as an overwhelming realization of His love for us. As a church, prayer should mark our milestones and deepen our resolve in the gospel call.

The leaders of the church must demonstrate through prayer that we are insufficient. Our worship services must make clear that we cannot do what needs to be done, that the pastor is incapable of transforming or persuading or bringing people from death to life. Prayer makes that statement—not as a perfunctory transition between sections of the worship service, and not as a hustled-up prayer with the pastor before services begin. Transitional prayer and prayer before services are good and necessary, but if we are not inviting our people into prayer as a deliberate matter of worship, then we are failing to remind them of our need. We are sending a subtle and discreet message that we have this under control. The service may be planned and well rehearsed. Everything can be presented, preached, and performed with the utmost precision and excellence. But without prayer, we will find ourselves missing the only piece that really matters—the power of the Holy Spirit.

Do we invite our people to humble themselves and pray with us? Is there a public/corporate component of confessing our need for the Spirit to do what only the Spirit can do? If the power of the Holy Spirit did not move in your services, would anyone know or recognize the difference?

Martin Luther wrote in his exposition of the Sermon on the Mount, “He [God] also wants to indicate that because of all the temptations and hindrances we face, nothing is more necessary in Christendom than continual and unceasing prayer that God would give his grace and his Spirit to make the doctrine powerful and efficacious among us and among others.”3 Prayer precedes effective ministry.

If we are honest, we will acknowledge how much of our ministry is dependent upon us rather than the Spirit. The way in which we minister reveals this. We get caught up in the routine of doing ministry, spending less time asking to be filled for ministry. In short, this is a sign that we believe by our actions that we can accomplish what the Bible says can only be accomplished by God. Gospel-centered ministry means we recognize our inability to accomplish what needs to be accomplished; therefore we are driven to prayer—not only by our desperation and need, but also because we have been adopted into the family of God and are invited into His presence.

So what does the gospel have to do with prayer and the Church? According to John Calvin, “just as faith is born from the gospel, so through it our hearts are trained to call upon God’s name [Romans 10:14–17]. And this is precisely what [Paul] has said a little before; the Spirit of adoption, who seals the witness of the gospel in our hearts [Romans 8:16], raises up our spirits to dare show forth to God their desires, to stir up unspeakable groanings [Romans 8:26], and confidently cry, ‘Abba! Father!’ [Romans 8:15].”4 Prayer is more than the desperate cries of the weak; it is an overflow of affection. Calvin notes that the reality of the gospel trains our hearts to call upon the name of the Lord. Prayer, then, is a relational exercise that we grow in more and more as we grow in the grace of the gospel.

We all know that prayer can be laborious at times and challenging to our wandering minds. We lose focus and have difficulty maintaining consistency, but the importance of prayer cannot be overstated. Prayer has a drawing, wooing effect. As we enter into the secret places through prayer, we are reminded of God’s love for us in Christ, which is essential in the ministry of the Church.

Ask yourself: Where does prayer fit in the life of your church? Are people invited to participate? How central is prayer in your ministries and the day-to-day working of your church? How do the church staff and leadership pray and stand in the gap on behalf of the church? Where are the sick prayed over and the needy cared for in prayer? The people of the church will be taught the primacy of prayer by the priority it is given in the ongoing life of the church.

Prayer mediates the tension that all ministries must maintain: our feeble weakness and inability, coupled with our loving adoption as sons and daughters. In the end, the call to prayer is a confession of need and a desire for greater affections for Jesus. We need Him to do what we cannot, and we desperately desire to grow in our affections for Him. To that end, we will labor in prayer in our churches as watchmen on the walls.

Suffering and Sanctification

Suffering reminds us of our smallness. Though we all lack control, power, and abilities, we can easily lose sight of this fact during stretches of life when success and accomplishment seem to come easily by our own hand. Pain, however, reveals our humanness.

When discussing the topic of suffering, we are never without an audience because suffering affects everyone in one way or another. As we consider gospel-centered ministry, the hardships and toils we all face are another way that God chisels, molds, and prepares us for the call to lay down our lives for the sake of the gospel.

Suffering is the result of the fall of humanity recorded in Genesis 3. As sin entered the world through our first parents, the universe fractured. What was once perfect and harmonious was now perverse and distorted. But the effects of sin reached beyond humanity to affect the creation as well. The depravity of humanity combined with the corruption of creation makes for a relentless assault of reminders that life is not how it should be. Every natural disaster and every divorce serve as reminders that something is wrong. Suffering interrupts our false pretenses that all is well. Every gut-wrenching case of abuse, every barren womb, every diagnosis of cancer, and every seed of racial hatred is a painful cry that the world in which we minister reeks with suffering and despair.

To avoid these realities is akin to burying our heads in the sand, to live in a false Utopia. The answer to the problem of suffering is not to avoid it or run from it, but to understand it in light of the gospel. Suffering affects each of us in three ways: suffering as the result of living in a fallen world (infertility, natural disasters, etc.), suffering as the result of my personal sin (addictions, anger, racism, etc.), or suffering as the result of someone else’s sin (victims of abuse, hate, anger, etc.). Our churches are filled with people in every category. There is not enough room in this chapter to give a full theological and practical treatment of sin and suffering, but, suffice it to say, nobody is immune from it. So how does suffering relate to gospel-centered ministry? Suffering reminds us of our smallness. Perhaps more effective than anything else, suffering makes us decrease and Jesus increase.

Suffering loosens the grip we have on the world and its fading glories and causes us to hold more tightly to the person and promises of Jesus. It strips us of self-reliance and causes us to trust the mercies of a loving God, the One who tempers the heart amid hardship with sustaining hope.

A beautiful mystery in all of this is how God takes what was meant for evil and actually turns it for our good. The promise of Romans 8:28 serves as a warm blanket to the suffering soul: “We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose” (HCSB). Through the painful loss that inevitably occurs by means of suffering, the opportunity also exists for glorious gain. We get more of Him. Through suffering.

The Church has the opportunity and responsibility to prepare her people for the reality of suffering. Sadly, many churches have concocted prosperity-driven theologies and have misled their people to believe that suffering and hardship is a result of insufficient faith and lack of genuine belief. Other churches have avoided the topic altogether in favor of sharing pragmatic messages centered on how to get better at this or that. In those types of settings, the Bible becomes a road map to life rather than the account of a faithful God who has redeemed a desperate people.

Much of the Church is driven by the whims of a consumerist-thinking and fear-of-losing people, so the difficult realities are often avoided. But is there anything more intensely practical than a stout understanding of suffering? Flimsy theological foundations and a lack of intentional shepherding of our people toward the biblical reality of suffering only lead to devastating results. In fact, an inept theology of suffering in the life of the church will eventually compound suffering, not provide hope in the midst of it. A right understanding of suffering in this world engenders a greater love for our hope in the next, which better frees us to serve in this one. Suffering better equips us to minister.

At The Village Church (where Matt and Josh pastor), suffering has become a persistent reality. In the early days of the church, suffering seemed to be more on the periphery, not as close and personal as it is now. On Thanksgiving morning 2009, however, Matt had a seizure that ultimately revealed a malignant brain tumor. The diagnosis was stifling and the prognosis was sobering, but God was working through all of it.

Thankfully, the Lord had prepared us for this trial through a strong belief in the gospel and the theological foundation that was already laid. In one sense the suffering was shocking, but in another it was not. Suffering is universal. This truth has continued to unfold as we have walked through a deluge of trials, losses, and painful hardships as a church and staff. Suffering is no longer an idea or theological conviction; it is a very personal reality for our body.

He loves us so much that He will bring (or allow) circumstances and situations into our lives that bind us to Him. This is motivated by His mercy and compelled by His gracious love. In seasons of suffering, we often walk by faith with blurry understanding, but this much is clear: He will never leave us or forsake us. Although we may be saddled with confusion, He liberates our hearts with more grace. Think how often when apprising someone else’s suffering we say, “I could not weather that storm.” Yet we fail to account for the special grace given to them to bear it. Again, He loves us and has forever promised to sustain us for all eternity.

At The Village, God continues to prove Himself faithful in our sufferings. The result of these hardships is that the gospel has become clearer and more valuable to us. Our grip on the things of the world has been loosened, and we long more for the return of Christ than we ever did before the hardships. Good fruit is often wrought through painful seasons.

The interplay between gospel-centered ministry and suffering is clear for several reasons. First, suffering enlightens us to the life of the Savior. Our Lord suffered. He understood the pain of loss as He wept over the death of a friend. He walked in personal mistreatment and was the innocent victim of abuse. He knew the emotional suffering of ridicule, mockery, and abandonment. He knew the physical suffering of beatings, lashings, and hanging on a cross. So not only do we better understand the sufferings of Jesus as we walk through our own sufferings, but we better understand Jesus’ ministry to us in the midst of our suffering.

The book of Hebrews says that Jesus is our great and empathetic high priest: “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens—Jesus the Son of God—let us hold fast to the confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tested in every way as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us at the proper time” (Heb. 4:14–16 HCSB). He understands our suffering because of His own suffering. Just as Jesus’ suffering allows Him to personally empathize with us in our suffering, so our suffering prepares us to minister to others in their suffering.

The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 1:3–7:

Praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ our comfort also overflows. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation. If we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which is experienced in your endurance of the same sufferings that we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that as you share in the sufferings, so you will share in the comfort. (HCSB)

What a beautiful promise! Our suffering is not in vain. God uses it to allow us to identify with the hurts of others. And as we experience the comfort of God in our trials, we are better able to comfort others. Suffering comes full circle and is redeemed by the comfort of God. Our ministry becomes more robust, more well-rounded, and more realistic as we endure our own suffering and enter into the sufferings of others.

A second feature of suffering and ministry is found in the biblical truth that we are strong through our weakness. The apostle Paul’s thorn in the flesh, which he repeatedly asked to be removed from him, was allowed by God to remain for the sake of Paul’s humility in ministry. It reminded him of his weakness and limitations.

Therefore, so that I would not exalt myself, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to torment me so I would not exalt myself. Concerning this, I pleaded with the Lord three times to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may reside in me. So I take pleasure in weaknesses, insults, catastrophes, persecutions, and in pressures, because of Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor. 12:7–10 HCSB)

Suffering was a constant companion in the life of the apostle in order that he might decrease while Jesus would increase. The gospel transforms suffering from a morbid consequence of the fall to a redeemed opportunity for experiencing the power and grace of God in a new way. In fact, this relationship is further expounded in Philippians 3:10–11: “My goal is to know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, assuming that I will somehow reach the resurrection from among the dead” (HCSB). Over and over again throughout the New Testament we see a positive link between suffering well, ministering effectively, and being conformed into the image of Christ. The Church cannot afford to turn a blind eye to these truths or simply teach about suffering reactively. We must be proactive in our proclamation about the purpose and opportunity of suffering for the sake of the gospel.

The Necessity of Celebration

Finally, God prepares us and empowers us to minister more effectively through the joy of celebration. Creating a culture of celebration actually prepares us and propels us further into gospel-centered ministry.

When our hearts are enjoined in celebration, we are turning our attention toward something or someone else. In short, we are focused on something other than ourselves. As we think about John the Baptist’s illustration of Jesus increasing and him decreasing, we see that celebration has a role to play in this. If gospel-centered ministry is marked by the measured increase of Jesus, then we need to be a people who celebrate Jesus and the fruit of His Spirit.

Gospel-centered ministry must highlight and point out the evidences of grace that surround us daily.5 This is the constant reminder that God is at work in our midst. The fact that God is working among us reveals His grace toward us—a fact that should be celebrated. This could be something as seemingly small as an encouragement from a friend or a confession of sin, or as noticeably significant as baptism and salvation. All of these are noteworthy because they are indicators of the work of the Spirit. To overlook any of these is to become accustomed to them and miss the underlying significance in front of us: God is at work!

When we point this out and make it explicit, then we are accomplishing two things. First, we are celebrating the work of God. Our hearts are lifted in praise, declaring that He is faithful to move among us. This breaks us out of the monotony of routine to show that God has broken through. And because He does this daily, we should regularly highlight and celebrate them.

Second, we are teaching others to be on the lookout for grace. We are teaching, in effect, how to look for the evidences of grace. We are reminding our people, friends, and family that God has not left us but is constantly moving and working and involved in our lives.

The net effect of celebration is that we become smaller as God and His works become bigger. We celebrate that God is bringing those who are in darkness to the light. We celebrate that He is turning the hearts of the fathers toward their children. We celebrate that there is a growing love for God’s Word. Whenever and wherever we see the Spirit of the Lord working and moving in our ministry and our church, then it should be noted and celebrated.

Now, this does not mean that every instance should become a sermon illustration or a weekend video, but it does mean that celebration should be infused into the normal culture of the ministry of the church. Not only should celebration be encouraged and modeled corporately, but it should also be encouraged personally. In the quiet places of our hearts we should make room to celebrate God’s infinite graces to us on a daily basis—because each time we properly celebrate the work of God, we are nudging our hearts away from self-sufficiency and self-importance. Each celebration is a subtle reminder that it’s not about us.

Third, celebration should also propel us to long for more of God’s Spirit. As our hearts are enlivened with joyous celebration, we should eagerly anticipate God to move in our midst. We should be on the lookout for more evidences of grace. Gospel-centered ministry is burdened to see the power of the gospel unleashed to transform lives. It is weighted down with sober excitement to see the evidences of grace around us. You know your ministry is marked by the gospel when the eagerness for celebration is wrapped in humility, not entitlement. We have tasted and seen that the Lord is good, and we long to multiply this experience a thousandfold. Celebration creates a healthy appetite for the Spirit of God.

How can the Church nurture an atmosphere of gospel-centered ministry? Through prayer, suffering, and celebration. These are the primary means God uses to remove our self-sufficiency, remind us of grace, and embolden us for the call of gospel-ministry. This call is both sobering and joyous. It is shaping, sanctifying, and challenging. But this is the call Jesus has made on the lives of all who follow Him. We are to decrease so that He might increase.

Redefining Success

Jesus changes the game. In so many ways gospel-centered ministry is counterintuitive to our natural thinking. We have already seen that Jesus says life only comes through death, and that gain only comes through loss. The game is to decrease so that Jesus can increase. Again, none of this comes naturally.

We have also talked about three ways that God presses His priorities on His people and forms us for gospel-centered ministry: prayer, suffering, and celebration. We now want to close the chapter—and the book—by discussing how all of this redefines our view of success in ministry.

Nobody ventures into life aiming for failure. Everyone wants to be successful. But what is success? In the context of ministry, it is important to have a healthy and biblical idea of success because our view of success in ministry will fuel our strategies and metrics. It will influence our celebration and serve to bolster our perseverance. A right desire for the future leads to right ambitions in the present.

We live in an age of productivity and efficiency. The clash of capitalism, competition, and a post-Industrial Revolution culture creates an environment that is always pushing the boundaries and expectations. In many ways, this cultural cocktail has fueled the growth of our of nation and resulted in unprecedented prosperity. The American Dream has become an iconic mantra embedded into the very fabric of who we are as a people. To pretend this has not affected the way we view success in the Church would be foolish.

In many respects, then, the Church has become reductionistic in how she views success. The marketplace evaluates success by looking at the bottom line of a balance sheet, the stock price, and so forth—and the Church has tended to follow suit. We have deemed a church successful based on a few clear-cut metrics, but these don’t always tell the whole story. Metric dashboards are helpful and necessary, but they don’t seem to capture the essence of our biblical mandate. We are called to make disciples of all nations, not simply make converts. Discipleship is long, slow, and messy. In short, it’s harder to measure.

The challenge that we will face when evaluating our weaknesses is overcorrection. Most of us will swing the pendulum too far in another direction and simply create a new issue down the road for another generation. The hope in this section is to raise the awareness level of three issues: ministry is inefficient, people are our metric, and the formation of Christ is the end goal.

Ministry Is Inefficient

As much as we plan and prepare and strategize and implement, ministry will always be inefficient. At the root of the call to ministry is a call to shepherd and love people toward godliness. And this is never a straight line. Life cannot be mechanized into a program, and there are no assembly lines for life change. Prayer is inefficient. Discipleship is inefficient. These things have no measurable end and are hard to show on a metric dashboard; rather, they are to be the persistent climate of the Church until Christ calls us home. We are not arguing that we should abandon metrics, but just better understand the limitations of them.

Our drive for efficiency, productivity, and pragmatism leads us to spend more time honing best practices than wading through the murky waters of life change. Yes, the Church should devote attention to best practices and should strive for improvement and excellence, but all in proper priority. At the heart of our ministry we must be convinced that our best practices can only take us so far. Therefore, as we recognize the limitation of best practices, then we begin to reprioritize our approach to ministry.

It is imperative for the Church and her leadership to understand this practically. Sure, most would espouse the inefficiency of ministry theologically but then get frustrated when it plays itself out this way practically. The reality of the sanctification process is that it zigs and zags while taking a few steps forward and a few steps back. This is the story of your life—as well as our lives and the lives of our most sincere church members. We need to account for this in the measurement of our church health. It is unrealistic and an unnecessary burden to place on the church to think that our people will grow unfettered from gutter to glory.

The People Metric

The Church must be a place where it is okay not to be okay. The culture of the Church needs to be a safe place for the weary, weak, and wobbly. Of all places, we should welcome those who are honest about their burdens, frustrations, and pitfalls. Our people cannot be honest about their shortcomings in the marketplace. The Church provides the release valve of grace that we all desperately need, leadership included.

J. I. Packer writes:

The church, however, is a hospital in which nobody is completely well, and anyone can relapse at any time. Pastors no less than others are weakened by pressure from the world, the flesh, and the devil, with their lures of profit, pleasure, and pride . . . pastors must acknowledge that they the healers remain sick and wounded and therefore need to apply the medicines of Scripture to themselves as well as to the sheep whom they tend in Christ’s name.6

It is far too common for the church to expend precious energies masquerading and upholding images rather then walking in transparency and authenticity. Ministry is messy because life is messy, and nobody is excluded from the mess. If it is not okay not to be okay in a church, then what are we doing? Where is the gospel? The hope we have in Christ is that it is okay not to be okay, but He is leading us to greater levels of health and maturity. Give your people the grace to grow and an example to follow.

Proverbs 14:4 says, “Where there are no oxen, the feeding trough is empty [clean], but an abundant harvest comes through the strength of the ox” (HCSB). If we want an abundant harvest, then the ox is necessary. But with the ox comes the mess and hassle of upkeep and care. We cannot have the ox and clean stables; the two are mutually exclusive. Ministry is inefficient and messy, and we cannot place onerous metrics of grace-less growth on our people that do not take this reality into account. The church should enjoy the fruit of steady growth, discipleship, conversions, and baptisms while understanding the call to be faithful to a process that in reality is often slower and messier than we like.

Christlikeness Is the Goal

Finally, behind all the numbers are people. Behind every statistic is a story. Behind every point of quantitative data is a qualitative narrative that needs to be recovered. So a balance needs to be introduced into the success equation. The discussion about metrics needs to include the vastly overlooked qualitative element; it needs to include who and where our people actually are in their walk with the Lord.

A biblically informed definition of success has almost nothing to do with the acquisition of material things, the achievement of personal comfort, or entertainment. Success for the believer and for the church is defined in relationship to Jesus Christ and His mission. Christ came to seek and save that which was lost; He calls a people unto Himself. We were once far off and have now been brought near through the blood of Christ. He creates a new humanity with transformed perspectives and ambitions.

The death and resurrection of Christ and the overall mission of God in the world now defines what success looks like for us. Simplistically, our desire for success should be in accordance with Romans 12:1–2, in making ourselves a “living sacrifice” that we might be “transformed” into His image.

Do we look like the Savior? Have we been transformed by His grace to love radically, give generously, suffer willingly, walk humbly, and engage missionally? Is the fruit of God’s Spirit evident in our hearts: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control? (Gal. 5:22).

Success has been redefined as we have been transformed. In this new, Jesus-centered list, prosperity means an endowment of Christ-saturated thoughts, relationships, and actions, not just a certain annual budget or weekend attendance. Conformity to the image of Christ now compels us, not the creaturely comforts of a fading glory (2 Cor. 5:14). The success we are now pursuing is not elusive; rather, it is eternally ours because it has been purchased by the sufficient blood of Christ and secured by the seal of the Holy Spirit (Eph. 1:7, 14). The “American Church Dream” is a cheap substitute compared to the rich treasure of knowing Christ (Phil. 3:7–10).

The gospel reality awakens us to pleasures evermore and causes us to abandon our prior delusions of grandeur to readily accept the inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for those who believe (1 Pet. 1:3–5). In short, a successful church is motivated and empowered by the gospel to remain faithful to Christ and His mission of making disciples.

The DTR that Jesus had with His disciples proved to be pivotal. This conversation defined His identity, His mission, and the nature of His relationship with His disciples. And through this one conversation, He also redefined success. Jesus promised that He would establish His kingdom, but He would do so by humbling Himself and ultimately dying on the cross.

And He now invites us—His disciples—to follow in His steps. The DTR has clarified the relationship and the invitation stands. Will we join Him in Jesus-centered living, working, and ministry?

We must.

We were called for this . . . and nothing other. To Him be all glory as He does His great work through us.