This morning I read a letter from Pastor Joel Ellis to a friend who is hurting and agonizing over many things. It is a truly excellent letter, filled with genuine compassion and what I believe to be very helpful insight. I think it is something everyone of us could benefit from reading and so pass it on to you with a prayer that it may be useful to you in your own walk with the Lord. You are loved, Pastor John  

Pastor Joel Ellis (of Reformation OPC, Apache Junction, AZ) writes:

Greetings in our Lord Jesus Christ! I hope you are having a very blessed week and experiencing the joy and peace that we have in Christ which transcends and triumphs over all of our pain, stress, trouble, and labor. I have attached an edited copy of a letter I recently sent to a friend with whom I correspond on a regular basis. He is not a member of our church and is unknown to any of our members. It is an appeal to trust God when circumstances, pain, and doubt makes it seem impossible to do so. I debated whether to share it, but knowing how often this kind of counsel is needed, I decided to do so. I hope it has value for some of you.

A Letter to a Friend

Every believer is like the father in Mark 9 whether he knows it or not. The father’s son is severely tormented by a demon with a self-destructive, suicidal agenda. The monster throws the boy into the fire and into the water in an effort to kill his host. The father probably hasn’t slept well a single night since the demon came into his son’s life.

We don’t know how old the boy was or how long the oppression had been going on, but at some point the father hears that Jesus of Nazareth has been casting out demons. He brings his son to where Jesus is reported to be, but he learns that Jesus has gone up on the mountain with three of his disciples. The father was probably disappointed, but the remaining nine disciples reassure him: “Don’t worry. We can handle this. Jesus gave us the power to cast out demons too, and we have done so successfully many times. We will help your son.” Evidently they tried, but they failed. The demon laughed at them. Their power was useless. They faced their greatest test yet, and they did not succeed. An argument broke out. The religious leaders jumped on the chance to call these men, and their master, Jesus, a fraud. A crowd grew, and the argument became louder, when suddenly Jesus returned. The Lord asked the father what was going on, and the father explained. The father wanted to believe that Jesus could help him, but he was wracked with grief, exhausted in every way that a person can be, and his faith had been badly shaken by the failure of the disciples. He asked Jesus, “If you can do anything, have mercy on us and help us.” Jesus replied, “If you can? Believe. All things are possible to him who believes.” The father answered in sincerity and brokenness, “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”

Which is it? Was that father an unbeliever who wanted to believe or a believer who struggled with unbelief? Yes. Every believer, to one degree or another, is that father and shares in the same experience.

I appreciate your honesty about your lack of faith. Maybe that is real and what you lack is a true, new birth. Not a religious decision, not a self-directed commitment, but a radical change of heart and life affected by the Holy Spirit. Maybe you have had that new birth but years of spiritual inattention, inconsistency, disobedience, and neglect have weakened your faith and led to this spiritual anguish and trial. Or maybe God has withdrawn a bit in order to teach you your weakness without him. He does that sometimes. Psalm 30 describes a time in David’s life when he thought everything was going well. God took a step back, and David landed on his face. “Be humble or be humbled.” That saying isn’t in the Bible, but the idea certainly is. God sometimes sends us sanctifying trouble to teach us to trust him.

I’m sorry about your friend… who took his own life. It is hard to wrap our minds around things like that. I won’t try to offer you any simplistic answers or platitudes. There aren’t any. Cancer is an evil. Pain is an undeniable reality. And the misery that leads to suicide doesn’t get better simply because we will it to be so. There is no point living in a fantasy, and that’s sometimes what well-meaning Christians do. They imagine all kinds of promises that God never made: “God wants you to have your best life now.” “This will work out, get better, turn out just fine.” How do you know? Today is bad, and tomorrow could be worse. God never promises to take away all of our pain and problems in this life. He never promised that the good guys would live to be old or die in honorable ways. Life is hard, and then you die. A lot of modern, American church-ianity doesn’t admit that and wants to pretend otherwise. But that is not a fair representation of the Bible. The Scriptures are very clear about the painful realities of our present, fallen world. The Bible doesn’t whitewash our pain and struggle. It doesn’t build castles in the clouds so that we can pretend it was other than what it is. The Scriptures deal in reality, and reality is cold, hard, and heavy.

You know this is wrong, on many levels. You know that good guys getting cancer and killing themselves is wrong. It’s not right. It’s unfair. Our hearts cry out for justice, but we don’t find it here. C. S. Lewis said that if you find in your heart a desire that cannot be satisfied in this world, it is evidence you were made for another. He’s right. The human heart carries desires that cannot be fulfilled here, and it’s because we were made for more.

You said you see around you “so many things daily that point to anything but an all powerful, benevolent, heavenly father,” but you perceive the evil and malevolence of those forces because your heart carries the fingerprints of a good and just God whose perfect righteousness enables you to perceive all of the injustice and wickedness in this world.

Do you suppose coyotes meditate upon the injustice of the world? Do you think hyenas are troubled by the moral implications of their social context? Evil and injustice don’t exist if there is no God. You would not be able to recognize what is wrong in the world if you did not have a category for good, justice, and truth.

… you need Jesus. I don’t say that because of what you wrote in the email. I say it to myself every day. I say it to my church every week. Literally, every Sunday we have a place in our worship where we corporately recite 1 Timothy 1:15: “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners of whom I am the foremost.”

That verse does not mean every person is supposed to believe his sins are more heinous than anyone else’s. That would obviously be untrue. It’s not a self-deprecating delusion that we are affirming in that verse. What the author is saying is this: “I am the first and the worst sinner I know, because I know my own sin in a way I know no one else’s.” I’m not a serial killer, rapist, or thief. I’m a “good person” by societal standards. But am I justified by this? No way. I know my heart. I know the pride, selfishness, lust, anger, resentment, laziness, and indifference that lurks in me. I am fighting against my flesh every day, and my greatest opponent is not the world or the Devil, it is myself. It’s not just the world that is broken; it is me. I am broken, broken by the sin outside and all around me, broken by the sin within me, the sin for which I am personally responsible.

Why do you care that another person got sick and killed himself? At least it wasn’t you. Tomorrow it may be you or me, but we’ll simply enjoy the ride until we’re not having fun anymore, and then…. If there is no God, there is no basis for grieving over a good man. We are just bags of biological material, stardust bumping into other particles of stardust, random in our appearance, purposeless in our existence, and destined to pass out of sentient experience. But you know that’s not true. You are grieving. You are questioning. You are wondering why, what’s the point, how can this happen? Stardust doesn’t ask these kinds of questions. Earthworms don’t write books exploring the purpose of life. Only the offspring of God do so.

There is a God, and his existence doesn’t depend on our belief in him or trust in him at all. He made man in his image and gave us life for the purposing of glorifying him and enjoying fellowship with him forever. But our first father, Adam, took that gift and corrupted it. We have received God’s good gifts and used them in pride and selfishness. We have rejected relationship with God and decided we wanted instead to be God. How is that working out for us? Have we been able to justify our existence? Have we found transcendent peace and joy by removing God from the equation?

The Bible describes the gospel as of “first importance” (1Cor. 15:3). This gospel is, literally, good news. It’s the only objectively and permanently good news you can count on: Christ died for sins, he was buried, and he rose the third day, so that whoever believes in him will not perish but will have everlasting life. Christ paid the penalty of our sins. He took the death we deserved, so that we might receive the gift of eternal life we do not deserve but are freely given in him. You are not saved by faith. Faith has no inherent power to save or worth to merit anything. You are saved, if you are saved at all, by Christ. It isn’t faith that saves us; it is the One in whom we have faith. It is not the

strength of your faith in him that saves you either; it is having faith in him. Even a small faith, even a weak faith—is there any other kind?–if it trusts in the Savior, is the instrument of divine justification and everlasting life.

Trust in him, my friend. Read the Psalms and cry out to him in prayer. Confess that this world is broken and that you, like the father in Mark 9, are an unbeliever who wants to believe, a believer who is struggling with unbelief, and one who knows the resolution cannot be found in yourself or this world. Pray that God will give you the grace of faith–it is a gift (Php. 1:29; Eph. 2:8-9)–and enable you to grow in your love for and trust in him.

Whatever you do, don’t give up. You are made by God and for God. Your life has meaning and purpose, and that purpose is not to be found in what you do but in who and whose you are. Don’t you lose sight of that. Be strong and courageous. I am here for you, to listen, to commiserate, to weep, to encourage, and to serve in anyway that I can.

Article by Rev. Bartel Elshout, pastor of the Heritage Reformed Congregation of Hull, Iowa. Original source: Jan/Feb 2018 edition of The Banner of Sovereign Grace Truth.

For far too many pastors in North America the condition of pastoral burnout has been, or is, a painful reality. At times, this condition can have far-reaching consequences, as it will prompt some pastors to resign permanently from pastoral ministry, whereas others will have been so severely impacted by this condition that it has permanently disabled them.

All pastors, given the nature of their responsibilities, are potentially vulnerable to succumbing to this debilitating condition. Therefore the question must be asked, “what steps can be taken to prevent pastors from burning out as they deal with their multifaceted and demanding responsibilities”?

Before considering steps that can be taken to limit and/or prevent pastoral or ministerial burnout, we first need to consider what pastoral burnout is and what circumstances precipitate this condition. Also regarding this condition, we must first diagnose the disease before we can prescribe the remedy.

Burnout is essentially what the word suggests: It means that someone’s “candle” has completely burnt out. Practically this means that a burnt-out person’s physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual reserves have been completely depleted. Consequently, a burnt-out person can no longer function normally.

The following symptoms will often manifest themselves—symptoms that will vary according to the severity of one’s burnout:

• Fatigue
• Lack of energy
• Insomnia
• Inability to concentrate
• Inability to engage in mental tasks
• Depression and/or anxiety
• Spiritual despondency

I know from personal experience what a debilitating effect these symptoms can have on a person. What a frightening experience it is when it seems that your mind no longer functions and when you can no longer engage in what would otherwise be viewed as normal tasks and responsibilities! That’s what happens when one’s physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual batteries have been completely drained.

As is true for physical batteries, this usually does not happen overnight. The condition of burnout is usually long in coming. A person who burns out frequently has been burning the candle on both ends for a prolonged period of time, and has thus chronically neglected to observe the normal rest cycle that is so essential for the healthy and normal functioning of our minds and bodies.

When the divinely ordained rest cycle is inadequately observed for an extended period, the natural reserves of our minds and bodies will gradually (and initially imperceptibly) be depleted. Though someone may, for quite some time, get away with violating and/or compromising the rest cycle, there will come a day of reckoning when one’s reserves will have been fully depleted. The nature and demands of the ministry are such, however, that ministers are often vulnerable to overextending themselves.

The full scope of ministerial responsibilities is difficult to define, for the nature of the work is such that there will always be another responsibility and/or task on the horizon. Ministers therefore often have the sense that they are never really truly finished with their work.

Since the ministry is in a sense a twenty-four-seven calling, there can at times be a relentless inner pressure (sometime reinforced externally by unreasonable expectations) to work day and night. When this goes on for an extended period of time (sometimes years), the specter of burnout begins to loom on the horizon.

Since such burnout is usually long in coming, it will often require a considerable period of time to recover fully. It’s like a rechargeable battery—when it is fully drained, it cannot recover by merely being recharged for a few hours. It needs to be recharged overnight to regain its full functionality.

Let me illustrate this from the Scriptures. The last chapter of 2 Chronicles records for us why God chastised Judah with a seventy-year captivity in Babylon. Its purpose would be “to fulfil the word of the LORD by the mouth of Jeremiah, until the land had enjoyed her sabbaths: for as long as she lay desolate she kept sabbath, to fulfil threescore and ten years” (2 Chron. 36:21; see also Jer. 29:10).

The author clearly implies that Judah had robbed the land of its divinely prescribed sabbaths. Every seventh year, the land was to have a year of rest, and God had promised the farmers in Israel that they would prosper if they would obey His precept.

The implication of this text is that they had skipped the sabbath year seventy times—and thus over a period of four-hundred ninety years! Having violated God’s ordained rest cycle for this lengthy period of time, the Lord now compelled Israel to let the land rest for seventy consecutive years. Rather than the land resting at regular and prescribed seven-year intervals, this rest now had to be made up all at once.

Hopefully, the application of this story will be obvious. If we consistently and chronically violate God’s ordained rest cycle, we will ultimately burn out, and then we, too, will have to make up that rest all at once.

What must ministers do to prevent this from happening to them? We must obey God’s revealed will and honor His ordained rest cycle for our bodies! That means two things: (1) We must honor the day/night cycle and get a proper amount of sleep each night; and (2) we need to understand also that ministers must rest one day after six days of labor.

The weekly day of rest (preferably Monday) is especially essential for the long-term health of a minister. Both my father and I had to learn this the hard way, as both of our ministries were interrupted by burnout.

I remember my father telling me how the Lord had convicted him that he, too, had transgressed the fourth commandment by not resting one day out of seven. Upon recovering from our burnout, we both resolved that the remainder of our ministries we would rest one day out of seven. My father did so faithfully until the Lord translated him into glory, and I try to follow in his footsteps by also making Monday my weekly day of rest.

That day of rest has proven to be a real blessing for me personally, and I would lovingly urge my brothers in the ministry to do likewise. After all, there is no exemption for pastors in the fourth commandment! And thus the best way to limit and/or prevent ministerial burnout is consistent and faithful obedience of God’s ordained rest cycle. Pastors will only prosper physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually when they honor God’s revealed will!

Article: by Clint Humfrey (original source here)

How does the pastor spend his time? That is a question that sometimes arises from some who are critical and most who are just curious.

Medieval monks would spend their time at appointed hours praying, singing and chanting at their home, while transcribing texts in the intervening hours.

At the Reformation, so little of the previous centuries work had been dedicated to preaching, that the Reformers stood out for their emphasis on the pulpit.

The consistory of Geneva spent a great deal of time reviewing pastoral care issues, thinking through them biblically and apply counsel to people and situations. Sometimes the counsel and care was disregarded and some Genevans preferred to be disciplined out of the church, than to be discipled in the church. All of this took organization and care. But the primary driver of the ministry was the Word work. Calvin’s preaching through the bible provided the basis for doctrine in the church in Geneva, and the surrounding village churches that worked together with Calvin’s, seeking counsel from Calvin’s elders, even making requests for pulpit supply.

Some things have changed, but others have stayed the same.

Word Work & Prayer Work
Today the work of the Word and Prayer (cf. Acts 6:4) are the two greatest tasks which the pastor must undertake. Both of these are work. It is not enough to tell the congregation that you just didn’t ‘get anything out of the Word’ this week. It requires mental and spiritual ‘sweat’. It is taxing. It makes you tired like all work does.

The Word work and Prayer work have the added problem of being difficult to measure. Prayer is done ‘in the closet’. Word work is done ‘at the desk’. But consider that the person who is in the closet or at the desk is largely out of sight. That means that it can appear as if the faithful pastor is unaccountable or unavailable or invisible.

What is the measure of the Word and Prayer work? It is seen in the fruit of the ministry. It is seen in the healthy diet which people feed upon. It is seen in the Spirit’s illumination of people to understand God’s word better, to be helped by God’s truth, to glorify God’s ways.

The weakness of the pulpit speaks to the emptiness of the closet and the barrenness of the desk.

Pastoralist Work
But there is another aspect to the pastoral ministry that must have a part. It is the pastoralist part. That is, it is the awareness and care for the condition of the sheep. The pastor must know the people he is feeding. If he doesn’t know what their condition is, then the diet he offers will be too thick or too thin, too spicy or too sweet.

So the pastor exhorts and teaches personally in his interactions with people. He hears their anxieties and cares. He points them to Christ. This is the pastor’s task also.

Not Shopkeeper Nor Therapist
Sometimes people can get confused about their expectations for the pastor. Pastors can be viewed as shop-keepers or therapists. Some sheep don’t wish to be led to feed in green pastures, but wish to be treated like a pet in the shepherd’s home.

As David Wells has pointed out, our era is a Therapeutic Age. And this emphasis has dominated the thought of pastors and church members. The people expect the pastor to be a therapist, on call to fix them, and the pastor moves increasingly to be responsive to the ‘felt needs’ of the people. This mindset came to dominate the pastoral style of the seeker sensitive movement. And with it, the sufficiency of the Scriptures was lost as desks and closets were left empty.

So there is a constant struggle which the pastor faces. He must be jealous to guard the desk and closet time. As John MacArthur said many times, “the task of the pastor-teacher is to keep his rear-end in the chair until the job is done”. On the other hand, the pastor must know the sheep, and be able to offer feeding and protection according to their needs. He must do this without subtly giving in to worldly expectations of his role which come from the people or from himself.

Article by Kevin DeYoung – original source here)

Second Corinthians 11:28 always seemed like a strange verse to me — until I became a pastor. Here’s Paul, rattling off all the ways he’s been beat up for Jesus — imprisonments, lashes, rods, stonings, shipwrecks, drifting at sea, sleepless nights, hunger and thirst, cold and exposure, danger from everyone everywhere (vv. 23–27). And then, as the cherry on top, Paul mentions one more trial: “apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (v. 28). This is the mighty apostle, the one who counted it a joy to “spend and be spent” for his people (12:15), the one who was sorrowful yet always rejoicing (6:10). This is the Paul who faced every imaginable opposition and yet learned to be content (Phil. 4:11) and anxious about nothing (4:6). And here he is admitting that even with everything else he’s endured, he still feels anxiety for all the churches.

Ever since I became a pastor, I have found unusual comfort in this verse. It’s not that I have accomplished what Paul accomplished or suffered what he suffered, but every earnest minister feels this burden for the church. And Paul had several churches to burden him. The churches were full of infighting and backbiting. They put up with false teaching. They were prone to legalism on one end and complete chaos on the other. Some of the church members were making insignificant matters too important, while others were too willing to compromise on Christian essentials. Paul loved these churches, and their struggles burdened him more than shipwreck or imprisonment.

Before I go any further, let me be clear: I don’t think pastors are the only ones with burdens. In many ways, we have the best job in the whole world. I certainly feel exceedingly thankful to do what I do on most days. I have no interest in comparing the difficulty of pastoral ministry with the difficulties of other vocations. All I want to do is to encourage pastors to keep fighting the good fight and encourage congregations to keep encouraging their pastors.

I’m not surprised Paul felt daily pressure for the churches. His work never seemed to let up. He had letters to write, visits to make, and a collection to gather for the saints in Jerusalem. He had to send people here and there, and manage the affairs of his churches from a distance. He had to respond to myriad criticisms, often conflicting criticisms. Some people thought he was too harsh. Others said he was too weak. Some people in his churches were ascetics and thought Paul was worldly. Others were licentious and thought Paul was too ethically demanding. They questioned his credentials. They compared him negatively to the original apostles. They thought him lame compared to the false apostles. They didn’t like his preaching style. They didn’t like his discipline. On some days, they just didn’t like Paul anymore. All this for the man who led them to Christ, loved them like a father, refused their money, and risked his neck for their spiritual good. No wonder there was no weight for Paul like the weight of caring for God’s people.

Ask any pastor who really takes his work seriously and he will tell you of the pressures he feels in ministry — people in crisis, people leaving, people coming, people disappointed by him, people disappointing to him. In the midst of this work, the pastor is trying to find time for study, prayer, preparation, and family. He’s trying to improve himself, train up new leaders, meet the budget, get to know a few missionaries, champion important programs, provide for deep, accessible worship and preaching, be responsive to new ideas, listen to new concerns, and be ready to help when people are in trouble.

And most pastors feel a burden for all the other things they could be doing: more evangelism, more for the poor, more for missions, more to address global concerns, and more to address social concerns. There are pastors reading this who wonder if the church is still responsive to their preaching; if the leadership will ever be responsive to their leading; and if the congregation will ever grow like the churches they hear so much about. On top of all this, every pastor has his own personal hurts, his own personal mistakes, and his own spiritual health to attend to. We are all weak.

But be encouraged. God uses weak things to shame the strong (1 Cor. 1:27). His grace is sufficient for you; His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). For the sake of Christ, then, be content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when you are weak, then you are strong (v. 10). Paul had pressure. You have pressure, too. But God can handle the pressure. And He looks good when you can’t.