147 Sermon Illustrations on Ministry

One must either not meddle with priests, or else smit them dead. "Oh, what we must suffer for the church of God!" cried the abbot when the roast fowl burnt his fingers. — German. — A priest's pocket is hard to fill. — Danish.

A dying nobleman sent for the clergyman whose ministry he had attended, and said to him, "Do you know that my life has been licentious? Yet you have never warned me of my danger." With some hesitation, the clergyman replied, "Yes, my lord: your manner of living was not unknown to me; but your kindness and my fear of offending you deterred me from reproving you." — "How cruel! how wicked!" said the dying man. "The provision I made for you and your family ought to have induced care and fidelity. You have neglected to warn and instruct me; and now my soul is lost." These were the last words of one whose case is too often paralleled.

Dr. Nathan Bangs of the Methodist Church dreamed that John Wesley called him to the invincible ranks of the gospel ministry. He seemed to see that great leader, passing with great velocity in a chariot of light, throwing out to him a shining sword, and crying, "Take this, and conquer!" A minister contending against this doctrine averred, that he never believed himself called to preach. An acquaintance replied, "No other person ever believed it either."

The discussion about gifts amounts very much to a discussion whether the rifle, the carabine, the pistol, or the cannon is the best weapon. Each is best in its place. The great point is, that every one shall use the weapon best suited to him; that he charge it well, and see that it is in a condition to strike fire. Rev. W. Arthur.

Once on a time, when St. Ildefonso was entering his cathedral at the head of a midnight procession, he perceived the high altar surrounded by a blaze of light. He alone of all the clergy ventured to approach, and found the Virgin herself seated on his ivory episcopal throne, and surrounded by a multitude of angels chanting a solemn service from the psalter. He bowed to the ground before the heavenly vision; and the Virgin thus addressed him: "Come hither, most faithful servant of God, and receive this robe, which I have brought thee from the treasury of my Son." Then he knelt before her; and she threw over him a chasuble, or cassock, of heavenly tissue, which was adjusted on his shoulders by the attendant angels. Mrs. Jameson.

Like as if a stranger should violently thrust himself in to be the shepherd of thy sheep, thou wouldst ask him who sent for him, what he had to do there, and thou wouldst rather think him to be a thief, and a murderer of thy sheep, than to be a faithful and trusty servant; so surely, if thou come to take charge of God's people before he inwardly move thy conscience to pity his people, and outwardly, by order, call and place thee where he thinks good, he will judge thee a thief, a wolf, a devourer, and not a feeder. Caudray.

It is not great talents that God blesses, so much as great likeness to Jesus. A holy minister is an awful weapon in the hand of God.—McCloyne.—Naturalists tell us, that, if the loadstone be rubbed with garlic, it loseth its virtue. When the name of the minister is contemptible, his doctrine will be the less acceptable.—Swinock.—Ministers are soldom honored with success, unless they are continually aiming at the conversion of sinners. — Owen. — It is a remark of Baxter's, that he never knew any minister much honored, even though a pious man, unless he expected success, and had strong faith.

From 1517 to 1526, the first ten years of the Reformation, the number of Luther's publications was three hundred; from 1527 to 1536, the second decade, the number was two hundred and thirty-two; and 1537 to 1546, the year of his death, the number was one hundred and eighty-three. His first book was published in November, 1517, and he died in February, 1546, an interval of twenty-nine years and four months. In this time he published seven hundred and fifteen, an average of more than twenty-five a year, or one a fortnight of his public life. He did not go through the manual labor of all this writing, it is true, for many of his published works were taken down from his lips by his friends; and it is also true, that several of the volumes were small enough in size to be denominated pamphlets; but many of them are also large and elaborate treatises. In the circumstances in which he wrote, his translation of the Bible alone, would have been a gigantic task, even if he had his lifetime to devote to it.

When the Rev. George Whitefield was last in America, the Rev. W. Tennent paid him a visit, as he was passing through New Jersey; and one day dined with him, and other ministers, at a gentleman's house. After dinner, Mr. W. adverted to the difficulties attending the gospel ministry; lamented that all their zeal availed but little; said, that he was weary with the burden of the day; and declared the great consolation, that in a short time his work would be done, when he should depart and be with Christ. He then appealed to the ministers if it was not their great comfort that they should soon go to rest. They generally assented, except Mr. T. who sat next to Mr. W. in silence, and by his countenance discovered but little pleasure in the conversation. On which Mr. W. tapping him on the knee said, "Well, brother Tennent, you are the oldest man among us; do you not rejoice to think that your time is so near at hand, when you will be called home?" Mr. T. bluntly answered, "I have no wish about it." Mr. W. pressed him again. Mr. T. again again answered, "No, sir, it is no pleasure to me at all; and if you knew your duty, it would be none to you. I have nothing to do with death; my business is to live as long as I can, as well as I can, and to serve my Master as faithfully as I can, until he shall think proper to call me home." Mr. W. still urged for an explicit answer to his question, in case the time of death were left to his own choice. Mr. T. replied, "I have no choice about it; I am God's servant, and have engaged to do his business as long as he pleases to continue me therein. But now, brother, let me ask you a question. What do you think I should say, if I were to send my man into the field to plough; and if at noon I should go to the field, and find him lounging under a tree, and complaining, 'Master, the sun is very hot, and the ploughing hard; I am weary of the work you have appointed me, and am overdone with the heat and burden of the day. Do, master, let me return home, and be discharged from this hard service?' What should I say? Why, that he was a lazy fellow, and that it his business to do the work that I had appointed him, until I should think fit to call him home."

From a memorandum book, in which Mr. Whitefield recorded the times and places of his ministerial labors, it appears that from the period of his ordination to that of his death, which was thirty-four years, he preached upwards of eighteen thousand sermons. It would be difficult to tell the many thousand miles that he traveled. It is said that this celebrated man, when advanced in life, finding his physical powers failing him, undertook to put himself upon what he called "short allowance." He preached once only on every day in the week, and three times on the Sabbath!

During one of the visits which the Rev. George Whitefield paid to Edinburgh, an unhappy man, who had forfeited his life to the offended laws of his country, was executed in that neighborhood. Mr. W. mingled with the crowd that was collected on the occasion, and was struck with the solemnity and decorum which were observable in so awful a scene. His appearance, however, drew the eyes of all upon him, and raised a variety of opinions as to the motives which induced him to join the multitude. The next day being Sunday, he preached to a very large congregation in a field near the city; and, in the course of his sermon, he adverted to the scenes of the preceding day. "I know," said he, "that many of you will find it difficult to reconcile my appearance yesterday with my character. Many of you, I know, will say, that my moments would have been better employed in praying for the unhappy man, than in attending him to the fatal tree; and that, perhaps, curiosity was the only cause that converted me into a spectator on that occasion; but those who ascribe that uncharitable motive to me, are under a mistake. I went as an observer of human nature, and to see the effect that such an example would have on those who witnessed it. I watched the conduct of those who were present on that awful occasion, and I was highly pleased with their demeanor, which has given me a very favorable opinion of the Scottish nation. Your sympathy was visible on your countenances, particularly when the moment arrived that your unhappy fellow-creature was to close his eyes on this world for ever; and then you all, as if moved by one impulse, turned your heads aside, and wept. Those tears were precious, and will be held in remembrance. How different it was when the Savior of mankind was extended on the cross! The Jews, instead of sympathizing in his sorrows, triumphed in them. They reviled him with bitter expressions, with words even more bitter than the gall and vinegar which they handed him to drink. Not one, of all that witnessed his pains, turned his head aside, even in the last pang. Yes, my friends, there was one; that glorious luminary," pointing to the sun, "veiled his brightness, and traveled on his course in tenfold night."

No matter how mean the calling the Holy Spirit can make it great. Dorcas as truly a missionary as one who goes out to preach

guides, and so are the Lord's true ministers. Some stars in yonder sky have done measureless service to wanderers over the trackless deep, and to those who have lost themselves in the labyrinths of the forest. That pole star has conducted many a slave to liberty. Happy have been the influences of the stars upon the hopeless who, being lost, have laid themselves down to die! Blessed are those men who, shining with the light of God, have turned many to righteousness; shall they not shine as the stars for ever and ever? Are there not preachers of the Word who have stood like that famous star "over the place where the young child was"? They have first led strangers to Jesus, and then have remained in faithful love shining over the place where the Lord abides.

See TRANSFORMATION.

MISSION SURGERY

On many fields missionaries have found that ministry to the ills of the body has assisted in the conversion of souls. Thus in Formosa:

Dr. Mackay, a well-known medical missionary, has found it a help to his work to minister to bodily ills. He extracted twenty-one thousand teeth in twenty-one years, and thirty-nine thousand in all, and has dispensed considerable medicine. Extracting teeth is cheaper than dealing out medicine, for beyond the instrument there is no outlay. The natives have lost all faith in their old doctors.--PIERSON, “The Miracles of Missions.”

Various articles. Salvation as soap opera. Market-driven rather than message-driven. Too much reliance on numbers. Secular approach. Deficit spending promotes crisis appeals. Too much secrecy.

Side articles on various ministries.

Richard Foster, in "Celebration of Discipline," describes the characteristics of service that is focused more on the self and service that is focused more upon Christ:

Self-focused service is:

1. Concerned with impressive gains.

2. Requires external reward, appreciation, and applause.

3. Highly concerned about results.

4. Affected by feelings.

5. Insists on meeting the need; it demands the opportunity to help.

Christ-focused service is:

1. Doesn't distinguish between small and large.

2. Content in hiddenness. God's approval is sufficient.

3. Free of the need to calculate results. It delights only in service.

4. Ministers simply and faithfully because there is a need. The service

disciplines the feelings.

5. Listens with tenderness and patience. It can serve by waiting in

silence.

Rusty Stephens, a Navigators director in Virginia Beach, Virginia, tells a story: “As I feverishly pushed the lawn mower around our yard, I wondered if I’d finish before dinner. Mikey our 6-year-old, walked up and, without even asking, stepped in front of me and placed his hands on the mower handle. Knowing that he wanted to help me, I quit pushing.

“The mower quickly slowed to a stop. Chuckling inwardly at his struggles, I resisted the urge to say, ‘Get out of here, kid. You’re in my way,’ and said instead, ‘Here, Son. I’ll help you.’ As I resumed pushing, I bowed my back, leaned forward, and walked spread-legged to avoid colliding with Mikey. The grass cutting continued, but more slowly and less efficiently than before, because Mikey was ‘helping’ me.

“Suddenly, tears came to my eyes as it hit me: This is the way my heavenly Father allows me to ‘help’ him build his kingdom! I pictured my heavenly Father at work seeking, saving, and transforming the lost, and there I was, with my weak hands ‘helping’. My Father could do the work by himself, but he doesn’t. He chooses to stoop graciously to allow me to co-labor with him. Why? For my sake, because he wants me to have the privilege of ministering with him.”

A rabbinical student went to observe a renowned [famous] rabbi's counseling technique. "Rabbi, I am dumbfounded. When Mrs. Birnbaum came to you complaining about her husband, you listened. When she finished, you told her, 'I agree with you, Mrs. Birnbaum. Your husband is impossible, and you are doing everything expected of a wife.' This afternoon, Mr. Birnbaum came to see you and complained about his wife. You listened and told him, 'Mr. Birnbaum, you are right. You are married to an impossible woman. You are doing everything expected of a husband.'"

"That is ridiculous," the young man complained. "Either the husband or the wife has to be doing something wrong. They both can't be totally right!" The rabbi thought about the accusation as he stroked his beard. "You know, my son," the wise old fellow finally said, "you are right; you are right."

Equip people first, then give them a ministry.

Churches often seek any warm body. Even a cold one.

Pastor Ken Horton started with the typical approach. First he saw a need, then he developed a program.

On several occasions he had to figure out what to say to a volunteer when they asked him the question: "Would it disturb the service that much if the 2-year-olds sat with their parents? We couldn't find helpers."

In an attempt to staff their nursery, they had resorted to heavy-handed tactics. They assigned parents to nursery duty on a particular Sunday, whether they volunteered or not. (Ledgewood Baptist did the same thing.)

In effect it says, "If you're got kids in the nursery then we expect you to carry your fair share." Then Rev. Horton wondered why so many helpers failed not only to show up for duty but failed even to come to church on their assigned days. He discovered draftees often go AWOL without completing their tour of duty.

Needs are always much easier to find than the people to meet those needs. Horton found that he usually got trouble when he developed a program before developing the people who would serve. So now he starts with the people and finds the ministries they would like to do.

In the nursery they shifted the focus from the need they had (12 small kids) to helping people find significance by serving others. Their nursery took on a whole new look. Now they don't have to force parents to serve their tour of duty. They have enough others who enjoy being part of the "Helping Hands" ministry: grandmothers, teenagers, even young couples who are not yet parents.

Sermon in Isaiah series. Healing the broken-hearted. Isaiah 61:1-7

==========================

HOW GOOD IS THE GOOD NEWS?

==========================

I. When our expectations outrun our realities.

A. Most of us have high expectations for our lives.

B. God has good news for the disappointed.

II. The ministry of the Anointed One. 61:1

A. Multiple fulfillment: Isaiah, Qumran, Jesus.

B. Jubilee is coming. Lev. 25

III. Best part of the good news is Jesus wants to save all of us.

A. The good news is announced to broken people.

B. Religious stuff is only part of the gospel.

C. The practical side of the gospel.

IV. Liberation is an on-going activity.

A. In 2,000 years, people haven't figured out how NOT to mess up.

B. Jesus wants us to have a ministry to the broken.

V. Surrounded by needs, don't neglect the greatest one.

A. Our greatest need is knowing God.

B. The other side of the gospel.

C. Two aspects, but one desire for us: everlasting joy. 61:7

Pastors and staff need support, Henry said. He pointed to the problem of forced resignations and terminations of pastors, which occur in the SBC at a rate of 125 a month. Representatives of Baptist agencies say they receive 40 or 50 calls from pastors and staff who are ready to quit or change positions every day.

"Somehow we must find a way to help our pastors and staff members, who by their own moral choices, emotional burnout or by church conflict have been forced to the sidelines," he said.

Henry invoked the motto of the U.S. Army Rangers: "You go out together, you stick together, you work as a unit and you come in together. If you don't come in together, don't bother to come in!"

"We must help each other come in together," he said.

______

ASSOCIATED BAPTIST PRESS

Adultery by pastors is a big problem and churches are vexed in how to deal with it. A typical pattern is for pastor to be found out, confess with sorrow, be counseled for several months to a year, then be restored to another church (usually in another state). Many argue that a fallen pastor is more sensitive, caring and effective after being restored. However, Jesus was tempted in all points just as we are, yet it was his testing, not any failure, that made him strong.

Genuine forgiveness does not necessarily imply restoration to leadership, according to Kenneth Kantzer. Adultery is a great sin, and pastoral adultery is an even greater sin. There IS a difference between mental adultery and the physical act, though both will send us to hell. Matt 5:27f does not reduce adultery to the level of lust, it shows lust destroys the soul as surely as adultery. Sexual sins are against our own bodies (or entire personality) and harm others.

Pastors must be blameless, which means unassailable. Sexual sin by pastors often involves an abuse of their power and an attempt to control someone. 1 Tim 3:1-7 requires bishops to be "one-woman men." Historically the church has ousted fallen pastors. Hippolytus insisted on immediate removal from office. John Chrysostom (347-407) said, "The minister's shortcomings simply cannot be concealed. Even the most trivial soon get known."

Re-ordination may be possible in some cases. The Bible tells of several prominent leaders who had significant roles after their failures. Moses murdered, but it happened 40 years before his leadership began. David should have gotten the death penalty, but his family definitely suffered and never regained its stability. And as a harem-keeping potentate he is not a role model for NT shepherds. Peter did not sin "against the body" and it was not the kind of volitional and cavalier deception that is characteristic of adultery. [But isn't denial of Christ just as serious spiritually, if not more so?]

A fallen pastor made this plea to his fellow ministers:

"The question is character and integrity. Yours are shattered. I plead with you, face the issue now! God's grace does restore. There is hope. However, that requires a process, much time, and even more grace. Confess, step down. Become accountable. See the cleansing and healing you need. Do it this day, do it now!"

[article is followed by a related one from wife's perspective.]

FULL ARTICLE:

=============

ARTICLE: Why Adulterous Pastors Should Not Be Restored By R. Kent Hughes and John H. Armstrong

Repentance is not enough for returning fallen ministers to the pulpit.

"Genuine forgiveness does not necessarily imply restoration to leadership," former CT editor Kenneth Kantzer once wrote after the moral failure of several prominent evangelical leaders. Yet the impulse to link forgiveness with restoration to ministry remains strong. Here two pastor-theologians argue for the importance of keeping separate the restoration to the body of Christ and restoration to pastoral leadership.

The North American church is seriously vexed by the question, "What shall we do with an adulterous pastor?" Over the past decade, the church has been repeatedly staggered by revelations of immoral conduct by some of its most respected leaders. How do we respond to those who have sexually fallen and disgraced themselves, shamed their families, and debased their office?

The typical pattern goes like this: The pastor is accused and convicted of sexual sin. He confesses his sin, often with profound sorrow. His church or denominational superiors prescribe a few months, or often one year, in which time he is encouraged to obtain professional counsel. Then he is restored to his former office, sometimes in another location. He is commonly regarded as a "wounded healer," one who now knows what it means to fall, to experience the grace of God profoundly.

While each situation must be handled with pastoral wisdom, and some fallen pastors indeed might someday be restored to leadership, we believe this increasingly common scenario is both biblically incorrect and profoundly harmful to the well-being of the fallen pastor, his marriage, and the church of Jesus Christ. Our Lord Jesus was tempted in all points just as we are, yet it was his testing, not any failure, that made him strong. If we do not think clearly, we may be subtly encouraging people to grievous sin so they might experience more grace and thus minister more effectively. Incredibly, in the present context, some are saying things that imply just this notion.

THE FORGIVENESS APPROACH

The commonly held view reasons that a repentant and forgiven minister who was previously qualified for pastoral office remains qualified on the basis of God's forgiveness. Was he qualified previously? Has he confessed his sin? Has God forgiven him? Then we must also.

This logic rests upon the unbiblical assumption that forgiveness of sin is equivalent to the "blamelessness" (or unimpeachable character) required of pastors in 1 Timothy 3:2 and Titus 1:6. If this thesis is accepted, all God requires is that a fallen pastor be forgiven.

But this confuses the basis of our fellowship with Christ with public leadership and office in church. No one argues that the fallen minister cannot be forgiven. No one should argue that he cannot be brought back into the fellowship of Christ's visible church. But to forgive a fallen pastor and to restore him to membership in the church is much different than restoring him to the pastoral office.

The "forgiveness approach" is inadequate because it does not deal realistically with two facts: First, adultery is a great sin; and second, pastoral adultery is an even greater sin.

Oft-repeated fallacies sometimes achieve the status of received truth--such as the notion that there is no essential difference between mental adultery and the actual physical act (see Matt. 5:27-28; James 2:10). To the contrary, we believe, in concert with the historic interpretation of the church, that while lust, jealousy, pride, and hatred will send a person to hell as surely as their outward manifestations (adultery, fornication, and murder), the physical manifestations are greater sins because of the damage they do to both the person who sins and the ones sinned against.

Adultery is a great sin precisely because it breaks the covenant of marriage. It violates another's body. It may prove to be grounds for divorce. Mental adultery does none of this. Jesus' intention in Matthew 5:27-28 was not to reduce adultery to the level of lust, but to show that lust would destroy the soul as surely as adultery.

Likewise, compare the mental sin of hatred with the act of murder (see Matt. 5:21-22). In one the person who hates is harmed by the hatred, but in the other a life is taken. There is a difference!

Further, the immensity of adultery is seen in 1 Corinthians 6:18-20, where the apostle Paul argues that sexual sin is "against one's own body." The context of this passage reveals that sexual sin is in a category of its own. Sexual relationships violate the union that exists between a man and woman wherein they become "one flesh" (Gen. 2:24). It is the depth of this union, recognized by God with a covenant, that shows how profound its violation is in the light of eternity.

Charles Hodge wrote in the last century that 1 Corinthians 6 teaches that fornication "is altogether peculiar in its effects upon the body; not so much in its physical as in its moral and spiritual effects." Paul is telling the Corinthians that one's entire body and soul, hence all that a person is as a human personality, is involved in sexual relationship. Hence, profound damage results from such sin.

Hodge further says that adultery is a sin against one's own body because it is "incompatible...with the design of its creation, and with its immortal destiny." Contemporary New Testament scholar Gordon Fee writes in the same vein, "The unique nature of sexual sin is not so much that one sins against one's own self, but against one's own body as viewed in terms of its place in redemptive history" (emphasis ours).

Pastoral adultery, moreover, is an even greater sin. Why? Some sins are more damaging than others precisely because of who it is that commits them. As the Westminster Larger Catechism (Questions 150-51) reasons, persons who are eminent for their profession, gifts, and office are particularly serious offenders because of their influence upon others. This added seriousness is found in every case of a minister who commits adultery. Add to this James 3:1, which suggests that pastors will be held to stricter judgment, and we have a strong argument that pastoral adultery is an even graver sin than adultery in general.

The forgiveness approach, though appealed to by many today as a compassionate response to sexually fallen ministers, actually lacks compassion: it does not deal with the depth of the issue itself.

But why does adultery disqualify a minister from office?

THE BLAMELESS APPROACH

Straightforward explanations of what it is that qualifies one for pastoral ministry are given in several places in the Pastoral Epistles. 1 Timothy 4:12 provides a summary statement: "...set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity." Titus 1:6 further adds, "An elder must be blameless ..." The Greek word here means "not to be laid hold of," or unassailable. William Hendriksen says of this blamelessness, "Enemies may bring all manner of accusations, but these charges are proved to be empty whenever fair methods of investigations are applied."

Adultery is not the only sin that disqualifies a minister from office, but it is one of the more visible and confusing sins plaguing the church in our time.

What is particularly troublesome about this sin today is the abuse of power that often attends it. Deep pain is brought to the sexual partner in a clergy affair, and even deeper pain to the minister's wife. The minister, given an honored office through which he is called to serve abused and vulnerable people, violates that very trust by becoming, himself, a violator.

Anglican Michael Peers, speaking at the Toronto Centre for the Family's symposium on sexual abuse by clergy, explains, "[This] is a deep-rooted and dark" problem, and it is often protected by the twin demons of "denial and control." Don Posterski writes, "When the power [of ministry] is used for sexual gratification it clearly constitutes the sexual abuse of power."

It saddens us that so few "fallen" leaders recognize the abuse of power inherent to pastoral adultery. And even fewer are willing to discuss the destruction of trust that their sins have effected. Many borrow psychotherapeutic concepts such as healing and recovery as rationales for returning to pastoral ministry, but with no genuine recognition of the pathology that manifests itself in the abuse of power.

The consensus of church history argues strongly that pastoral adultery disqualifies the minister. Lutheran historian Carl A. Volz categorically states in Pastoral Life and Practice in the Early Church that the church debarred pastors from public ministry "through moral lapse" and "heresy." He notes that ordination did not protect presbyters: what was conferred could be removed. The noted second-century presbyter, Hippolytus, powerfully assailed immorality among church leaders and insisted on their immediate removal from office. The early second-century document The Teaching of the Apostles states that the one who had been ordained but subsequently disobeyed God's Word should be disqualified, because the man had lied in taking his vows of loyalty and purity before Christ and his church. Such a violation of ordination vows was seen as an egregious breach of the third commandment.

The same views were held by the Protestant Reformers. Calvin, in The Register of the Company of Pastors, prescribes: "In order to obviate all scandals of conduct it will be needful to have a form of discipline for ministers...to which all are to submit themselves. This will help ensure that the minister is treated with respect and the Word of God is not brought into dishonor and scorn by the evil fame of ministers. Moreover, as discipline will be imposed on him who merits it, so also there will be no need to suppress slanders and false reports that may unjustly be uttered against those who are innocent."

As has been established, the office requires the minister to be "blameless." There can be no doubt that 1 Timothy 3:1-7 requires, among other qualities, that the episkopos (or overseer of the church) be a "one-woman man," that is, a man of moral purity whose wife is his only sexual partner. He is required to be a man who keeps the covenant of God and keeps his "marriage bed pure" (Heb. 13:4). Paul stressed to the church in Ephesus, where sexual sin was common among pagan unbelievers, there should not be "even a hint of sexual immorality" in the church (Eph. 5:3).

Tragically, covenant breaking of this type places a lasting reproach on the fallen minister, and this will have long-term consequences. Wise Solomon gave it wistful expression: "But a man who commits adultery lacks judgment; whoever does so destroys himself. Blows and disgrace are his lot, and his shame will never be wiped away" (Prov. 6:32-33, NIV).

One of the troubling questions often raised regarding this matter of being "blameless" is this: Is the public knowledge of the sin the issue in the minister being blameless, or is there something in the nature of the sin itself that makes blamelessness a deeper matter than public knowledge? To put it bluntly, can the man become blameless by moving to another community and church and starting over? Here, it is often argued, others will not know of his past failure.

But a change in geography will not diminish the blame, because the sin is so dynamically disintegrative. As such, it will likely come to light again, as John Chrysostom, the early church bishop (347-407) explained: "The minister's shortcomings simply cannot be concealed. Even the most trivial soon get known."

Perhaps some might eventually become qualified to return again to pastoral office, perhaps after being ordained again. And it cannot be exegetically proven that a fallen minister can never be restored to office. But this does not argue against the flow of our understanding, for the vital question the church faces in our time is not what might happen in exceptional cases, but rather, how can we protect and help the woman or women sinned against by the minister? How can we minister to the pastor's wife and children, those most sinned against in this lapse? What can be done to preserve the church spiritually and morally? What are we to do to help this minister begin the long ordeal of sorting out his devastated life?

Adultery establishes that the fallen minister is not able to serve with integrity. The issue is not usefulness to the church or giftedness in the pulpit. To have stood before the flock, leading them in holy worship week after week, preaching the Word of God as his servant, and yet to have been committing adultery reveals a massively toxic character flaw that poisons all of life. One fallen minister, many years after his own failure, writes: "In my case, moral failure was the sin which was visible to the church. There were, much to my chagrin, other issues which were perhaps more heinous to God than that which was visible to man. It takes time to root these out and replace them with godly characteristics."

Sober warning has been given in 1 Corinthians 9:25-27, where the apostle Paul argues that the lack of diligent restraint of the flesh may lead one into apostasy. This danger needs to be weighed carefully in dealing with pastors who have fallen. Consider how subtly sexual sin permeates the whole human personality--whether illicit sex is used to feed a person's sense of power, need for affection, self-image, sense of desirability and attractiveness, hedonistic drive, or all of these--and you will sense the danger here. We sincerely believe that remaining in public ministry will in some cases foster deeper self-deception, leading men to eternal ruin in the final day.

WHAT THEN SHALL WE DO?

The fallen minister who confesses sin, seeks God's grace, and desires to remain in fellowship with the church of Christ, must be welcomed and received as any fallen Christian. He must be forgiven as Jesus commands (Matt. 18:22). But forgiveness and restoration to the fellowship of the church does not mean the former minister now meets the qualifications for holding the office of pastor/elder.

The church is not to punish the repenting man who has fallen. But refusing to return him to the role of pastoral ministry is not punishment. To remove a fallen minister is to honor Christ's holy standards; it is to follow the wise counsel and pattern of leaders over the centuries; it is to protect the man himself and his family; and it is to guard the church body, loved so dearly by the Chief Shepherd.

The Bible tells of several prominent fallen leaders who had significant roles after their failure. Moses, David, and Peter immediately come to mind. But we must not rush to employ these three examples in discussing morally fallen pastors. Consider several important matters: (1) Moses' sin of murder came 40 years before his leadership began, and he spent a virtual lifetime in the desert following this serious fall. (2) David's sin would have brought the death penalty to anyone else. Further, he was a Middle Eastern, harem-keeping potentate, not a domestic role model for New Testament shepherds. Remember also that his kingdom and family never knew peace after his moral turpitude--his throne never regained its former stability. (3) Peter's sin was serious, but it was not "against the body" (1 Cor. 6:18), and while it was a character sin, it was not the kind of volitional and cavalier deception that is characteristic of adultery. Neither was it premeditated, prolonged, or repeated in darkness.

We conclude with the wise plea and rationale of a fallen anonymous minister to his fellow servants who have fallen: "The question is character and integrity. Yours are shattered. I plead with you, face the issue now! God's grace does restore. There is hope. However, that requires a process, much time, and even more grace. Confess, step down. Become accountable. Seek the cleansing and healing you need. Do it this day, do it now!"

********************

R. Kent Hughes is pastor of College Church in Wheaton, Illinois, and author of numerous books, including "Are Evangelicals Born Again?" (Crossway). John H. Armstrong is director of Reformation & Revival Ministries and author of "Can Fallen Pastors Be Restored? The Church's Response to Sexual Misconduct" (Moody), which expands on the ideas in this article.

Copyright (c) 1995 Christianity Today, Inc./CHRISTIANITY TODAY Magazines

Six guidelines to help you find and use your gifts.

1. Open yourself to God as a channel for His use.

2. Examine your aspirations for Christian service and ministry.

3. Identify the needs that you believe to be most crucial in the life of

the Church.

4. Evaluate the results of your efforts to serve and to minister.

5. Follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit as He leads you into obedience

to Christ.

6. Remain alert to the responses of other Christians.

Henri Nouwen is a man in whom opposites seem to dwell side by side. A Catholic priest, author of dozens of widely acclaimed books on spirituality and ministry, Nouwen writes often of Christians' desperate need for reflection and solitude. Yet his gangly, slightly stooped frame moves with nervous, almost frenetic energy. People are in and out of his home and office at all hours, usually beginning around 7:30 A.M. and often until late at night. Every day he is involved with at least one Eucharist service, gives spiritual direction, attends to personnel issues, and offers care to many at Daybreak, the community for the mentally and physically handicapped where he ministers just north of Toronto.

And this eloquent exponent of prayerful silence loves to talk. In one interview I managed to pose only three or four questions to Nouwen in as many hours. Each question triggered an unstoppable flow of observations, stories, biblical references. Sometimes he sheepishly apologizes: "Sorry I talk so long." But his talk is more than words. He brims with insights about the spiritual life. Once he told a gathering of Baptist ministers, "Ministry is the least important thing. You cannot not minister if you are in communion with God and live in community. A lot of people are always concerned about: 'How can I help people? Or help the youth to come to Christ? Or preach well? But these are all basically nonissues. If you are burning with the love of Jesus, don't worry: everyone will know. They will say, 'I want to get close to this person who is so full of God.'"

Perhaps the greatest irony concerns Nouwen's present work. This former professor at Notre Dame, Yale, and Hazard now devotes his energies to those whose IQs and disabilities place them on the margins of society. Books such as "The Wounded Healer" and "Creative Ministry" have been textbooks for untold numbers of seminarians, yet Nouwen frequently addresses those who can understand only the barest rudiments of faith. There is, however, a certain consistency in the midst of the opposites and ironies, one found not in Nouwen's career accomplishments, but in his faith. ...

Life at Daybreak requires patience for the long haul. It is part of L'Arche (French for ark), an international network of ecumenical communities where mentally handicapped persons and their assistants attempt to live together according to the gospel. The first L'Arche community was founded in Trosly, France, by French Catholic layman Jean Vanier in 1964. Nouwen has lived in Daybreak since 1986. One of the oldest and largest L'Arche communities in North America, it is home to more than a hundred people.

"Jesus didn't say, 'Blessed are those who care for the poor.' He said, 'Blessed are we where we are poor, where we are broken.' It is there that God loves us deeply and pulls us into deeper communion with himself. I find it very important," Nouwen adds, "to stress that we are wounded healers; we don't have to run away from our vulnerability as if we don't hurt."

One evening I went for a long walk with a member who had severe brain damage as a child. I was touched by his humor, insight, and empathy. Without Daybreak, he--and others in the community--could end up on the street. Many people in L'Arche are rejected and outcast in the world. But L'Arche embraces everyone, handicapped members and assistants, reminding all that God loves us in our brokenness.

Nouwen insists that those who want to understand him must encounter L'Arche. Interviewers are encouraged to spend time at Daybreak, absorbing its unique dynamics. He told me, "L'Arche exists not to help the mentally handicapped get 'normal,' but to help them share their spiritual gifts with the world. The poor of spirit are given to us for our conversion. In their poverty, the mentally handicapped reveal God to us and hold us close to the gospel." Many times, as he travels, Nouwen brings along one or more handicapped members to his speaking engagements. "I'm not just Henri Nouwen anymore," he often says.

The community indeed seems exceptional. Assistants are not do-gooders who come in a short burst of naive idealism. Many serve in L'Arche for years or even decades. And I met people from around the world: Italy, Germany, Australia, the Dominican Republic. Assistants often quickly engage in intense spiritual conversations. (You also hear much "shop talk" about wheelchairs, lifts, and illnesses. )

One morning, as I sat in the semidark chapel praying, Scan, an assistant from Ireland, opened the door and pushed in a large wheelchair bearing Michael. Michael is profoundly handicapped: unable to walk, talk, or feed himself. He was elaborately draped in a poncho to protect him from the cold. Scan carefully removed Michael's poncho. They sat, praying. From time to time, Scan shifted or massaged Michael's body. At L'Arche, physical care and spirituality are deeply interwoven. ...

Many evangelicals find their way to Nouwen tier [to?] help with their walk with God. Some time ago, Mike Yaconelli, iconoclastic editor of "The Door," and other evangelical youth ministry leaders came for a lengthy stay. Yaconelli wrote of that retreat: "I knew what it meant to believe in Jesus; I did not know what it meant to be with Jesus. ...I found it easy to do the work of God, but I had no idea how to let God work in me."

Working with experienced evangelical pastors, Nouwen sometimes senses fatigue and spiritual exhaustion. They might wonder: "How can we-who talk about Jesus and want to bring people to Jesus, and want to help others bring people to Jesus-keep living a vital spiritual life?"

About a retreat with evangelical leaders, he remembers: "Our time was fruitful because they discovered what it would mean to live a Christ-centered life. To live in communion with Jesus was very central. We discussed what John the evangelist says about a relationship with Jesus. Jesus wants to dwell in us. Out of our intimate communion with Jesus we can start to minister. So Jesus is not just someone who lived a long time ago and was the Son of God and whom we follow. He is also the one with whom we live in constant communion and whose life is our life."

Evangelicals do not just come to Nouwen, he also goes to them, accepting many invitations to speak at Bible schools or to even bigger audiences. Nouwen appreciates evangelicals' openness about faith--"I love the directness that's involved, speaking about Jesus without embarrassment or complications"--but he argues that evangelicals have "a great need for a mystical dimension to their lives so they could be more free in living and not driven. The question is not 'How many people did I bring to Jesus?' but 'How faithful has your life with Jesus been?' Jesus was often not very successful, either. The question becomes 'Can I live a life of faith in the world and trust that it will bear fruit even when it has not many successes?'

"The evangelical movement has become just a bit victimized by a success-oriented culture, wanting the church --like the corporation-- to be successful. On that level, the mystical tradition of communion with Christ is important. 'I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain connected with me, then you will bear fruit.' The fruit is not success?'

At the core of life at Daybreak is worship. Although the community is ecumenical and there are variously striped Protestants present, the Eucharist is usually "high church --Roman Catholic or Anglican. Candles burn everywhere. Here is a picture of Francis of Assisi, there a Russian icon of Jesus. The priest is arrayed in a liturgical robe with a colorful stole. Handicapped community members sit on either side, ready to assist. Chairs encircle a huge, ark-shaped wooden table that was built in the community's wood shop. In one corner is a large bean bag for those handicapped people whose bodies cannot fit into a "regular" chair.

The service is an unlikely juxtaposition of the unexpected. At times we sing Greek, Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy). Then the formality, ritual, and candles feel "high church." At other times, we sing "Kumbayah" or other simple, folksy ,songs. Not all voices are on key. Not all the worshipers sing: Some moan or groan; some loudly gnash their teeth; some are silent. Some sway and moan the whole service through.

During the sermon, some interrupt the preacher with their editorializing or rebuttals. Handicapped members assist with preparing the emblems, wafers, and wine, and then help serve. Sometimes this works and sometimes not. During my first Communion here years ago, one person finished the wine before it circled half the room. We smiled, and as we touched the empty, fragrant cup to our lips, we had Communion.

Nouwen admits that at first he needed to learn to be patient with such interruptions. But ministry is two-way: "The handicapped people in their poverty were able to communicate to me God's first love." Thus, the Daybreak experience has shaped his understanding of the Eucharist; his most recent book "With Burning Hearts" (Orbis), explores the "eucharistic life" as a journey through failure and loss to thanksgiving.

As the community's pastor, Nouwen gives spiritual direction and encourages assistants to see their whole lives as opportunity for prayer: they do not just work with the handicapped during the day and pray at night. God speaks at all times and in all places, Nouwen counsels, not just in routine times of prayer. Regular disciplines are crucial, but all our lives can be prayerful. Developing this sort of consciousness, in accordance with Paul's injunction to "pray without ceasing," is a way of making our daily lives into a "window" for how God works.

Indeed, Nouwen's work is a constant, repeated, and emphatic reminder of the call to prayer: "Praying at all times means keeping our eyes always fixed on Jesus the Christ. As Peter began to sink as soon as he moved his eyes from Jesus to the restless waters on which he walked, so will we lose heart as soon as we stop praying. But as long as we keep the eyes of our hearts and minds focused on him, we can walk confidently in this world, bringing peace wherever we go."

Another recurring theme of Nouwen's life is his search for a spiritual home. "When I was five years old, I wanted to be a priest. I don t have any memories of wanting anything else. As a very tiny child, God was important to me. I've never had doubts about that. In those days, young boys were sometimes encouraged to act like priests. I had a little altar, tabernacle, and vestments. That was a way of playing then. It was normal in those days," he told me.

From early on, however, his vocation was tugged by different urges. "One voice said," he remembers, "'Show me that you can make it in this world, be an independent person, and compete with others. Show me that you're going to accomplish something.' This voice encouraged me to work hard, do much, set high goals for myself.

"And another voice ,said, 'Whatever you do in your life, don't lose contact with Jesus. Being known or having a big job is unimportant. It is important that you continue to carry Jesus in your heart and that you don't lose his light.'"

Nouwen, always restless, has often been on the move. He has lived in Bolivia, Peru, the Trappist Abbey of Genesee in New York State, the North American College in Rome, and other religious communities, exploring and testing.

Although a permanent home remained an elusive hope, its promise and symbolism spoke deeply to him: "How often images connected with a new dwelling place are used in the gospels! Jesus not only invites his followers to live with him in the same house, but he himself is the house," he writes in Lifesigns (Doubleday).

Restless longing is also reflected in the sudden changes in vocation that have punctuated Nouwen's adult life. After ordination in 1957, he expected to work in a diocese in the Netherlands. But at his bishop's request he continued school, studying psychology for six years. Next, he spent two years at the Menninger Clinic in Kansas, integrating theology and psychology. Finally, in his thirties, he began to teach psychology at Notre Dame. He loved teaching there. "But deep within me, I soon knew that psychology would never be my main field. I had such a desire to speak about God and to announce the Word. I felt that if I stayed in the university I should do theology." Copies of his lectures evolved into his first book, "Intimacy" (HarperSanFrancisco). Although he had never intended to be a writer, his writing career was launched.

After Notre Dame, he returned to the Netherlands, taught for two years in a theological institute, and pursued further theological studies. Then he was offered a position at Yale. "I was impressed by the opportunity to proclaim the Word in a school like that." He got permission from his bishop to teach for a few years and stayed ten. He eventually became a tenured professor.

Nouwen liked Yale, but it was not where he felt called to be. "I felt I needed something else because my spiritual life was not deep. I'm just a fragile person, and I knew that I wasn't rooted deeply enough in Christ. I wanted something more basic."

Nouwen prayed about this. "Something happened that, while a small thing, was important." He received a surprise visit from a L'Arche director, Jan Risse, who brought greetings from L'Arche founder Jean Vanier. "I expected this greeting to be followed by a request to give a lecture, write an article, or offer a retreat," Nouwen recalls, but the visit had no strings attached. Instead, Risse visited Nouwen for a few days, cooked a beautiful meal for him, and helped him in practical ways.

"Later, I saw how much in the spirit of L'Arche that was, although at the time I was just surprised. She didn't ask me to do anything. It impressed me deeply because it was a radical shift from how people usually related to me. They all want something from me, and that's normal. I remember thinking that this was something of God's response to my prayer." In 1981, Nouwen burned his bridges, resigned from Yale, and went to Latin America. "I'd been there many summers and felt that's where God was calling me. Or at least that it was what I should do." His motives were a mixture of guilt about his affluence and an earnest desire to know God's will. His journal, Gracias! (Orbis), recounts his attempts to find a vocation there. "I was coming up with great schemes of what I could do if I went to Latin America, but gradually discovered that it wasn't God's call," he told me. Later, he visited Nicaragua and embarked on a two month U.S. lecture tour. This exhausted him and raised new questions: "I've never been so tired. My soul was in danger from preaching the gospel: It was akin to preaching to the whole world and losing your own soul. I was very lonely and broken."

Nouwen spent six weeks in the original L'Arche community in Trosly, France, recovering from his lecture tour and re-evaluating his involvements. L'Arche gave him room to be healed. "There was this whole feeling, 'Maybe here you can be held and cared for; we don't want anything of you. We love you and want you to experience God's love.'"

Nouwen returned to the United States to teach at Harvard. There was much that he liked, but it also tore him apart: "Something inside was telling me that my success was putting my own soul in danger." Harvard was not a good experience: "It was one of the hardest places I'd ever been. It's an ambitious school, sometimes even somewhat arrogant. I didn't know how to deepen my heart and my soul, how to stay close to Jesus in the midst of it all."

He sought out the one home he knew, living for a year in Trosly and keeping a journal, which evolved into "The Road to Daybreak" (Doubleday). He was invited to be pastor of Daybreak in Toronto. "It was the first time in my whole life: that I felt called to do anything. The rest I'd done. I'd made a lot of initiatives. This was the first time that I felt that God was calling." He gratefully accepted. The move startled many. This successful writer and Ivy League academic moved backwards from the way society recommends. He wrote that, in going from Harvard to Daybreak, he went from "an institution for the best and brightest" to work with people who are often most despised in society.

Ironically, this one place where he experienced God's call is also the least interested in his expertise as a writer and lecturer: "If [the handicapped people] express love for you, then it comes from God. It's not because you accomplished anything. These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self--the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things--and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I'm completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments."

Nouwen has also never been more aware of his own needs. In finding a physical home, he had not yet resolved a deeper inner issue. Outer restlessness was a symptom of an unwillingness to rely primarily on God. "When you expect from people what only God can give," he confesses, "you cling and ask more from them than they can offer. A friend's love is for you but not to replace God." He experienced both physical and emotional exhaustion. With the support of Daybreak, he took a six-month leave in 1988.

Years later, Nouwen is still surprised--but convinced-that his work at L'Arche is precisely what God has called him to do.

Has Henri Nouwen finally found his home? While he cannot be sure he will remain at L'Arche for the rest of his life, he believes his call to L'Arche is different from when he went to Yale or Harvard. He has no plans to leave. In his house at Daybreak, he has some antique furniture he inherited from his family and also a large collection of religious paintings and sculptures. It feels like a home. This might not be his final address, but Henri Nouwen has moved much closer to his longed-for House of the First Love.

********************

Arthur Boers is the author of "Lord, Teach Us to Pray" (Herald) and "Justice

That Heals" (Faith and Life).

Copyright (c) 1994 Christianity Today, Inc./CHRISTIANITY TODAY magazine

When you feel like you're drifting through life, discovering the ministry God has planned for you can make an exciting difference. #3783 *