The Threshing Floor

My posts have been intentionally cerebral and poetic. Tumblr has been my outlet for creative expression and yet I admit that there is a secret anxiety that is gleaning  through it all.

I wish I could tell you that seminary has changed my life. I wish I could tell you that the halls of Westminster have changed the very genetic makeup of my soul. I wish, very honestly, that books of theology and doctrine would change the despicable heart lodged inside. I wish I could tell you that Van Til, Calvin, Bavinck and Turretin have whispered life altering apologetics to my personal devotional life. Yet I would be lying. Scholastics have not made me an inch more like Christ and I guess, it is not supposed to. Yet there is an expectation, there is a standard of measure which begs you to get on your tippy toes and pray you meet it.

There is an anxiety for the young preacher. Regardless of your age and background, once your entrance letter is stamped you are to be the living and speaking model of Christ both behind and away from the pulpit. The preachers of the Reformation and Great Awakening tell you that the primary role of the preacher is contemplative. No other profession require that you take intensive care of your spirit’s soul. No other livliehood requires a devotional relationship with the Father in order you fill your occupational quota. All this babble is a result of reading the Prince of Preachers, Charles Spurgeon’s reflections in which he said, “All of our library studies are mere emptiness compared with our closets.” Yet for the young preacher, he must wrestle. For the young preacher he must slay the passions of youth while teaching the wisdom of old. The young preacher must doubly catch up in godly wisdom and godly practice for he must pour it out into the congregation on a weekly basis. And the theological texts are comfort zones compared with the thought of dealing with pervasive sin in the young preacher’s life.

There is even more. For the young preacher, he must prove himself. The young preacher must stand under the shadow of contemporary giants yet have the integrity to continually stand on the Rock and imitate Christ, not other preachers. The young preacher’s friend quickly recalls the short temper exhibited in the years prior to his standing behind the pulpit. The young preacher must rely completely on the call of the ministry to address life issues that he has never lived. There is a secret anxiety in the young preacher.

And yet this is the snare. The snare is the deadly game of merit. The snare for the young preacher is the toxic rat race of being approved. There is such a thing as trying to become too much of a minister which makes us less like Christ. Robert Murray McCheyne writes, “It is not great talent that God blesses so much as likeness to Jesus. A holy minister is an awul weapon in the hand of God.” Holiness. The job requirements of a senior associate is 5 years and an MBA while the requirement for a chef is great experience. The job requirement for the young preacher? Holiness.

How? I’m not…. I can’t.

And every young preacher must come to this point. Brokenness. The road to this destination is grueling and yet this is the sign post that leads to some comfort. Brokenness. The energy spent trying to be the model preacher. Attentively noting all the things that will add more to the repertoire of effective preaching charateristics. The mind traveling 100 miles an hour during a counseling session to prove that you have what it takes…all rubbish..

Then Scripture says something astonishing and almost offensive to our integrity…

⁴But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, ⁵made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.

And then the young preacher realizes, that Christ is never fooled by a seminary ID card. The young preacher understands that he can never fool God with intricate words and sound theology because that God is the one who knit his heart together. The young preacher finds that God cannot be sweet talked  into believing him to be a fine minister because God knows him by name. And then it hits me, God is not fooled. I am naked. There are no ways to become approved. And then the gospel hits me and then I realize…what a fool I was. Then the incredible patience of God rebukes me and drives me to my knees to throw my theology, apologetics and doctrine aside and say…”thank you.”

And when the young preacher stands back on his feet, he has found how he is going to do this. He has found the Rock to stand on and although he will never be Charles Spurgeon, Jonathan Edwards, Tim Keller or John Piper…he is himself…and that is okay. Because he is the young preacher, and he is dearly loved. And so he will take time to study honestly and fervently…not for merit and rankings, but to seek the God of his quiet closet in the books of theology. And so he will preach, with the um’s and ah’s of the jitters, and the messy outlines on paper because after the sermon is done…he will go back to his seat and know that, he is loved.

This is power.

Rock of Ages, Cleft for me

Let me hide myself in thee