Strand #22
1 Corinthians 2:1-5 (New International Version)
“1 When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. 2 For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. 3 I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. 4 My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, 5 so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power.”
In an age of dirty religion known for ebullient ministers giving eloquent sermons from elegant pulpits, we need to digest these verses. So many pastors are lauded for their stellar performances each weekend that I think they’re developing superiority complexes. It only galvanizes their misled pursuit of professionalism. I, for one, constantly have to fight the urge to plasticize myself sharing only those facets that showcase my strengths.
Check out the things that Paul seems to counter-intuitively divulge about his ministry mindset. He wasn’t banking on his slick speeches or witty wisdom to wow people into a conversion. He wasn’t hiding his weaknesses or fears behind a generic smile of confidence projecting himself as the churches “spiritual specialist”. His message and his preaching were less flashy and more fleshy (much different than fleshly). He had stopped the persuasive gimmickry and the motivational pep talk approach to presenting Christ. He wasn’t even afraid to look afraid anymore. Trembling was a part of the paradigm. It was if he had tried the modern ministry motif of his day, and had given up on it altogether.
I think people are sick of following power pastors. The slight of hand and spiritual smoke screens aren’t fooling anyone anymore. They look at the sharply dressed man standing behind the lectern wearing a lapel mic and wonder what’s he’s really like. They know they’re not getting the whole story. They know that there’s more than meets the eye going on behind the curtain. They know he has to be lost for words sometimes or gripped by fear or wrestling with questions…though they have yet to hear him admit these inner conversations. They want to see a chink in the armor, not to say, “I thought so!” but more, “I hoped so!” I think people want to see the full orbed Christian life modeled by their leaders…the good, bad and ugly.
And the best part about this is that God demonstrates his power when we stop projecting ours. When we shed the shell of professionalism, we get a peek at what life looks like when the Spirit is running the operation. No more putting your best foot forward every Sunday morning. No more clever spin doctoring of personal failure. No more editing of the less than comely parts of being a pastor while also being a human. And you know what; I think it would be less schizophrenic than the lifestyle of living with a secret identity. I think sometimes the term “pastor” is an alias of paralysis. A fictitious pseudonym that we can live to glue together, prop up and hide behind.
If weakness and fear and trembling are not a regular part of my message, I have disqualified myself from ministry. God’s power can only be unleashed when I take off the “power tie” and tell my ego where to get off. The masquerades and charades have to stop. It’s about Christ crucified, and that doesn’t get across to people until I’m crucified first.
“1 When I came to you, brothers, I did not come with eloquence or superior wisdom as I proclaimed to you the testimony about God. 2 For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified. 3 I came to you in weakness and fear, and with much trembling. 4 My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit's power, 5 so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power.”
In an age of dirty religion known for ebullient ministers giving eloquent sermons from elegant pulpits, we need to digest these verses. So many pastors are lauded for their stellar performances each weekend that I think they’re developing superiority complexes. It only galvanizes their misled pursuit of professionalism. I, for one, constantly have to fight the urge to plasticize myself sharing only those facets that showcase my strengths.
Check out the things that Paul seems to counter-intuitively divulge about his ministry mindset. He wasn’t banking on his slick speeches or witty wisdom to wow people into a conversion. He wasn’t hiding his weaknesses or fears behind a generic smile of confidence projecting himself as the churches “spiritual specialist”. His message and his preaching were less flashy and more fleshy (much different than fleshly). He had stopped the persuasive gimmickry and the motivational pep talk approach to presenting Christ. He wasn’t even afraid to look afraid anymore. Trembling was a part of the paradigm. It was if he had tried the modern ministry motif of his day, and had given up on it altogether.
I think people are sick of following power pastors. The slight of hand and spiritual smoke screens aren’t fooling anyone anymore. They look at the sharply dressed man standing behind the lectern wearing a lapel mic and wonder what’s he’s really like. They know they’re not getting the whole story. They know that there’s more than meets the eye going on behind the curtain. They know he has to be lost for words sometimes or gripped by fear or wrestling with questions…though they have yet to hear him admit these inner conversations. They want to see a chink in the armor, not to say, “I thought so!” but more, “I hoped so!” I think people want to see the full orbed Christian life modeled by their leaders…the good, bad and ugly.
And the best part about this is that God demonstrates his power when we stop projecting ours. When we shed the shell of professionalism, we get a peek at what life looks like when the Spirit is running the operation. No more putting your best foot forward every Sunday morning. No more clever spin doctoring of personal failure. No more editing of the less than comely parts of being a pastor while also being a human. And you know what; I think it would be less schizophrenic than the lifestyle of living with a secret identity. I think sometimes the term “pastor” is an alias of paralysis. A fictitious pseudonym that we can live to glue together, prop up and hide behind.
If weakness and fear and trembling are not a regular part of my message, I have disqualified myself from ministry. God’s power can only be unleashed when I take off the “power tie” and tell my ego where to get off. The masquerades and charades have to stop. It’s about Christ crucified, and that doesn’t get across to people until I’m crucified first.
Comments