Part 1: Receive the Word | Part 2: Respect Him | Part 3: Remember Him | Part 4: Obey Him

The last thing the Bible has to say about a church’s responsibility to its pastor is distinctly down to earth:

Let the elders who rule well be considered worthy of double honor, especially those who labor in preaching and teaching (1Ti 5.17).

We need to do a little setup work before we can make the clear application.

First, the term elder here should be understood as synonymous with pastor. The terms are used interchangeably more than once in Scripture. In Paul’s so-called “farewell address” to the Ephesian elders, the account identifies them as “elders” (presbuteroi, Ac 20.17), and then Paul refers to them as “overseers” (episkopoi, Ac 20.28) who “feed” (poimaino, “shepherd,” Ac 20.28) the “flock” (Ac 20.28). Peter does the same thing, treating all three terms as synonymous (1P 5.1-2). (Our word pastor is just the Latin word for “shepherd.”)

So we’re talking about pastors here.

Having said that, our passage seems to imply that there are different kinds of elders, or pastors: namely, those who “labor in preaching and teaching” and those who don’t—but who still have responsibility to “rule well.” Some churches draw a clear distinction between “ruling elders,” who are the governing board of the church, and “teaching elders,” who take care of the preaching and teaching responsibilities. Often the latter are called “pastors,” while the former are called “elders”; but in many cases their level of responsibility as board members is considered roughly equivalent. (In my experience—I’ve served in churches with a variety of approaches—the “pastors” have to be ordained, and they get paid, while the “elders” don’t have to be, and they don’t. 🙂 )

Anyhow, this passage is about pastors by anybody’s standards, even though it says “elders.”

Another word to investigate is the word honor. The first definition for the underlying Greek word in the premier Greek lexicon is “the amount at which something is valued; price, value.” It can also refer to other ways of showing you value someone—respect, reverence, privilege, and so forth—but at its root it has to do with money.

So what does this passage say?

Pay the man.

Specifically, pay him what his “labor” is worth.

There have been lots of ways to decide “what he’s worth” throughout history. In Judaism, a town had to have 10 heads of household in order to have a synagogue—because if 10 heads of household are tithing, they can afford to pay a rabbi.

That makes sense. But it doesn’t always work—because people don’t always tithe (and no, I don’t think that’s a requirement under the New Covenant) and because underlying the formula is the assumption that the average income for the congregation should be the pastor’s income. There are extremities and statistical variations that sometimes render that approach unworkable—as I’ve seen repeatedly in village churches in the African bush.

Here in the US, some churches take the average salary of the other board members as a starting point. Some take the average of what churches their size in their area are paying their pastors. There are organizations that track such numbers statistically and for a fee can provide a church with all the data it needs to make an informed decision.

But I have seen cases where pastors were starved, abused, by the very people they were serving with all their hearts and energies.

My brethren, these things ought not so to be.

Now I should close with a moderating thought.

I don’t trust pastors who emphasize money, and the last thing any church wants is a pastor who took the job for the money. It indicates that he’s an idiot, unless he’s planning to come by the money dishonestly. Neither of those options is any good for a pastor.

But pay the man what he needs to continue in his ministering to you. And show your appreciation in other ways as well.

What sorts of ways?

Get creative.

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Part 1: Receive the Word | Part 2: Respect Him | Part 3: Remember Him

Okay, this one’s going to be the most controversial—or at least the one initially suspected of being the most controversial. Someone’s going to mutter something about “patriarchy” and turn away in disgust.

Well, I hope not. In the end, there shouldn’t be anything much controversial in this post, assuming you think the Bible is God’s Word. (If you don’t, then of course you’re welcome to your opinion, but this whole blog probably isn’t of much interest to you—except maybe this part.)

Anyhow, this concept is directly stated in Scripture, and since I’m committed to believing—and reporting—whatever it says, this command gets a post.

So here goes.

This biblical command, like the last one, is in Hebrews 13:

Obey your leaders and submit to them, for they are keeping watch over your souls, as those who will have to give an account. Let them do this with joy and not with groaning, for that would be of no advantage to you (He 13.17).

Several things to note here. First. The verbal structure is compound: “obey and submit.” The first verb is often translated “persuade” or “trust” or some form of “confidence.” Note the emphasis on a meeting of the minds, on agreement by the object. This is not the verb the biblical writer would use for “Because I said so!” This is not the word for autocratic decrees. It means the object (that’s you or me) heard what the man said, thought about it, and agreed that this was the right thing to do.

The second verb is much less common; in fact it’s used only once in the New Testament, here in this verse. It’s used some in the Greek classics, including Homer, but that’s centuries earlier and may not reflect usage at the time of the New Testament. It does appear in the Old Testament Apocrypha. (Nerds may consult these references: 4 Maccabees 6.35 [“yield”]; Testament of Abraham 9 [“yield”]; and the first-century Jewish writer Philo, Moses, 1.156 [“obeyed”].) It seems to refer to giving way, as we would at a “Yield” sign in traffic. In the latter case, we yield not because we’re convinced, but because it’s the law, and if we don’t we’ll be at fault in any ensuing accident. In interpersonal actions like that described in our passage, it seems to imply submission even in cases where we’re not convinced.

Note that there are two reasons the writer cites for submitting:

• Pastors are accountable (to God, of course, though that’s only implied, not stated). They’re being held accountable for “watch[ing] for your souls,” which is of course a good thing, if it’s a responsibility from God; and if “they may do it with joy,” then what they have done meets with the approval of the God who made us, in whose image we are, and whom he loves enough to die for us. This language clearly does not allow for leaders who are abusing their authority, and it gives no room for mindless submission or cult-like devotion.
• These implications are directly confirmed by the succeeding statement that their being judged negatively for that care would be “unprofitable for you.”

When I was studying martial arts in college, I learned elements from all the major subcategories of judo, “the gentle way.” These included nage waza [throwing]; katame waza [grappling]: osaekomi waza [pinning]; kansetsu waza [joint locking]; and shime waza [choking]. Of these the most dangerous—by far—was shime waza. When we did judo demonstrations for the public, we never demonstrated these techniques, for the safety of little brothers everywhere. Most of these techniques are not technically “choking”; they cut off not the airway, but the carotid arteries, causing unconsciousness in seconds. I once demonstrated one of these in front of two physicians, and they came right out of their seats. It’s stuff to be highly respected and “not tried at home.” I will never use one of these techniques outside of a dojo, apart from a clear and present danger.

When we began to learn these techniques, our sensei applied a hold to each of us and told us sternly, “Don’t be a fool. When you feel this fade happening, tap out. Immediately. You’ve lost, but you want to live to fight again.”

Now, that’s a terrible illustration to use for pastoral care.

But here’s the biblical point. When your pastor tells you the truth, and when you know he’s telling the truth, don’t fight him; do the right thing, admit that he’s right, and correct your thoughts and actions. The consequences for resistance in those times are too severe to mess around with.

In those moments, he’s more than just a friend with an opinion. Listen.

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Unsplash

Part 1: Receive the Word | Part 2: Respect Him

The last chapter of Hebrews mentions two other ways we can care for our pastor. The first is in verse 7:

Remember them which have the rule over you, who have spoken unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation (He 13.7).

The passage starts out simple enough, telling us simply to “remember” him. But there’s considerably more depth to that word in the biblical world than in ours.

Today we view remembering as a skill, an ability:  “I can’t remember names”; “I don’t remember where I put my car keys.”  Remembering is an intellectual ability over which we typically have little or no control.

In the Bible, however, it’s often not like that.  For example, God is said to not remember our sins:

For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more (He 8.12).

And we know He has the ability to remember; he’s omniscient.  So there’s more to the word than that.  What does it mean?

One clue comes from the fact that remembering is commanded or requested:

Only, they asked us to remember the poor, the very thing I was eager to do (Ga 2.10).

I, Paul, write this greeting with my own hand. Remember my chains. Grace be with you (Co 4.18).

Note that these verses imply an action that we take as a result of thinking about the situation:  “remember the poor.”

It also implies placing a priority on what we’re thinking about:

If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return (He 11.15).

By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave directions concerning his bones (He 11.22).

In both of the preceding verses, the underlined words translate the same Greek word for remembering.

So remembering, in this context, is something we choose to do.  It is to place our minds on something, to think about it intentionally. It’s something young lovers do when their minds are idle. It’s what Scarlett O’Hara refused to do: “I’m not going to think about that.”

So what is our original passage saying? “Turn your mind to him; let your thoughts dwell on him.”

Some years ago I was sitting quietly at home when an elder from my church called to say that our pastor had just collapsed in the church parking lot. He had been taken to the emergency room. (We later learned that his collapse was the result of a malignant brain tumor, the same kind–glioblastoma–that had taken my brother’s life the year before. It would take our pastor’s life, too, a year later.)

My immediate thought was to go to the hospital, but I realized that a lot of people were already there, and I would just add to the congestion in a place where medical professionals were trying to get their jobs done.

So I prayed. Long. Hard. Intensely.

And then it occurred to me.

My pastor was just as much in need of my prayers the night before, and the night before that. But I hadn’t prayed for him then.

I hadn’t remembered him.

I had missed countless opportunities to help, to be of service.

Our verse goes on to say that we should take his faithfulness—and his faith—as an example to follow. We should imitate him when he’s right. And why? Because we consider “the end of [his] conversation.”

Most of us know that in the KJV, the word conversation does not mean a session of talking with someone; it means a lifestyle, the way we choose to invest our time, energy, and other resources.

If our pastor has been faithful, he has invested in valuable things with no speculative risk, and with infinite payout.

That’s an investment worth imitating.

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Part 1: Receive the Word

Later in the same epistle, Paul requests something else from the Thessalonian believers. He uses two nearly synonymous verbs to make his point:

¹² We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, ¹³ and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves (1Th 5.12-13).

We all know what respect is. It’s to place value on someone for an appropriate reason. It’s a custom in most cultures to respect an older person, usually because he is considered wiser due to his greater experience. Similarly teachers, because they’re (supposedly) wiser due to education. To such people you show deference; you show that you value them by doing helpful things.

When I teach in Africa, it’s common for a student to ask to carry my Bible or my backpack from the car to wherever I’m headed, and back again later. The student is not saying that I’m old and feeble—at least I hope not. I can handle the heft of my Bible, and even of my backpack. It isn’t that I need the help; it’s just a service, a sign of respect.

At first I was uncomfortable with these things. I was born a Westerner, and we take care of ourselves, thank you very much. Why should someone else carry my stuff?

But I’ve come to realize that these dear people want to indicate their respect, and it is wrong of me, both culturally and otherwise, to deprive them of the joy of giving that gift.

Note what this does not mean. It does not mean that your pastor is better than you are. It does not mean that you have to do whatever he says. It does not mean that you are his servant.

It means that you appreciate the labor that he expends on serving as your shepherd, that you benefit from that labor, and that you freely and willingly want to demonstrate that.

Paul amplifies the force of this word by adding a second. “Esteem them,” he says—and do so “in love.” The Greek word translated “esteem” comes from a root meaning “lead.” The idea is that this person’s leadership places him in a position of respect.

In our democratic culture we Americans are uncomfortable with this idea; we think everybody should be equal.  But we still esteem people; we just do so on an irrational and senseless basis. We go nuts over people who sing, who act, who bounce balls. Now, of course it takes work and skill to do those things at a professional level. But even though some heroes are indeed talented—and work unimaginably hard to get that way—it’s still only a game with a ball.  This word speaks of an honor that is the result of careful, rational analysis; you look at the facts, and you determine that this is a person worthy of honor.

And, Paul says, you esteem them because of their work. Not their charm, their eloquence, their rugged good looks, but because of the labor that they expend that makes a difference in your life and because of their faithfulness to the work that God has given them to do.

A qualifying thought. We have all heard of pastors who abused their authority, who demanded respect that they had not earned, who claimed authority over areas of life that the Bible does not give them. Some cite such examples to excuse themselves from following the Scripture even when they ought to. I would remind them that there’s a baby in that bathwater.

The fact that something is done badly is not an argument that the thing ought not to be done at all.

When your pastor, through his labor, has earned your respect, you should give it—freely, creatively, effusively, and, as the verse notes, “in love.” You take care of people you love; you honor them; you reciprocate. Love is, after all, a two-way street.

Have fun thinking of ways to do that.

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Unsplash

Over the years I’ve had opportunities to preach as a guest in various churches, in the US and abroad. Often I take that opportunity to preach about how a church can care for its pastor, following the Bible’s teaching on the subject. I tell the congregation that while their pastor seeks to give them the whole counsel of God in his preaching, many pastors think that preaching on this topic would be a little, well, self-serving. Since I’m not their pastor, and since I’ll be in their church for just a day or two, I can say what needs to be said and then move on.

I’ve heard lots of sermons on how pastors should care for their churches—usually at ordination services:

¹ I charge you in the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who is to judge the living and the dead, and by his appearing and his kingdom: ² preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching (2Ti 4.1-2).

But never one on the inverse. It just isn’t done.

So. Here we go.

The Bible does address this topic at reasonable depth, though not in a single concentrated passage. I’ve chosen here to cover the relevant passages, biblical-theological style, in the order in which they were written.

Receive the Word (1Th 2.13)

On his second missionary journey, Paul and his new associate, Silas, received a vision of a man calling, “Come over to Macedonia and help us!” (Ac 16.9). Believing this vision to be from God, the men immediately crossed the water from Asia Minor (modern Turkey) to Macedonia (northern Greece), thereby venturing for the first time from Asia to Europe—and how different the world is today because they did.

They preached in Philippi, founding a church there (Ac 16.12-40), and then traveled down the main drag, the Egnatian Highway, to the city of Thessalonica, where they founded another church, despite no little opposition (Ac 17.1-9).

Later Paul wrote two epistles to the Thessalonian church—as well as one to Philippi—in which he describes his ministry there and fills them in on several doctrines. (We actually know more about Paul’s preaching in Thessalonica from his epistles than from the historical account in Acts.)

It is in the first epistle that he comments specifically on their response to his preaching:

And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers (1Th 2.13).

They received the Word.

Now, we need to qualify this in a couple of ways.

First, Paul was an apostle (1Co 9.1), and thus, I believe, was inerrant in his preaching (Jn 14.26). Your pastor will readily admit—I certainly hope—that he is neither an apostle nor inerrant, and that his interpretations of Scripture are thus subject to correction.

But second, the Scripture commends the folks in a church in Berea, just down the road from the Thessalonica, because

These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so (Ac 17.11).

I don’t think they needed to check up on what Paul said. But they did, searching the Scriptures. And the Spirit commends them for that.

So.

How do you “receive the Word” in the biblical sense?

First, you listen. For some people that means leaning forward. For some it means taking notes. For some—and God bless those folks!—it means showing in your facial expressions that you agree, or don’t, or wonder, or have a question. Showing that you’re alive. Letting your pastor know whether he’s reaching his listeners.

Second, you think about what you heard. You compare it with the rest of Scripture to see if it passes muster.

And third, you let your pastor know what you thought. You share other passages that confirm or throw more light on what he said. You ask about the parts that you don’t understand. You interact.

Many pastors would faint if their congregation regularly did that. There is nothing more encouraging than knowing that your hearers are actually listening.

Frankly, that requires more than just a “Good sermon, pastor.”

Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Unsplash