1 Thessalonians 2:1–12

¹ For you yourselves know, brothers, that our coming to you was not in vain. ² But though we had already suffered and been shamefully treated at Philippi, as you know, we had boldness in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in the midst of much conflict. ³ For our appeal does not spring from error or impurity or any attempt to deceive, ⁴ but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts. ⁵ For we never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed—God is witness. ⁶ Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ. ⁷ But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. ⁸ So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us. ⁹ For you remember, brothers, our labor and toil: we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. ¹⁰ You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our conduct toward you believers. ¹¹ For you know how, like a father with his children, ¹² we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.

I often think about a comment made by a controversial rabbi some years ago.

Rabbi Joseph Gelberman used to be Orthodox and now he is Reform, of sorts. Once a year in his Interfaith Temple in Manhattan, on Valentine’s Day, he does marriages free. All year round he declares that he is prepared to marry anyone—Jew, Christian, Hindu, gay, straight, believer, nonbeliever. The very genial rabbi says, “I’m not here to please God. I’m here to please God’s people.”[1]

I suppose the rabbi could be commended for his unquestionable honesty…but that is about it! My goodness! What a thing to say!

The shepherds of God’s flock—whatever else they might be—must not be people who say, “I’m not here to please God. I’m here to please God’s people.”

This absurd and, frankly, obscene statement raises a good question: What is a good minister? What is a true minister? What ought true ministers say? In 1 Thessalonians 1:1–12, Paul provides us with a good answer to that question.

A true minister preaches the gospel.

It is telling that the first mark of the true minister that Paul mentions in chapter 2 is that of gospel proclamation.

¹ For you yourselves know, brothers, that our coming to you was not in vain. ² But though we had already suffered and been shamefully treated at Philippi, as you know, we had boldness in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in the midst of much conflict. ³ For our appeal does not spring from error or impurity or any attempt to deceive

The language is telling:

• boldness
• to declare to you
• our appeal

Paul was defined by that which had taken hold of him: the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was the first and greatest gift he could offer the Thessalonian believers. In fact, in 1 Corinthians 2, Paul will say:

² For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.

There was, then, a singular focus in Paul. In saying this, Paul established a first benchmark for a true minister: does the minister declare with boldness the gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ?

A true minister seeks God’s approval.

Furthermore, the true minister “performs for an audience of one,” as they say. He must decide whether or not he is going to please God or man. Paul had clearly made his choice. He said:

⁴ but just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not to please man, but to please God who tests our hearts. ⁵ For we never came with words of flattery, as you know, nor with a pretext for greed—God is witness. ⁶ Nor did we seek glory from people, whether from you or from others, though we could have made demands as apostles of Christ.

Paul declares that he and his missionary team want only “to please God.” The approval of God was of paramount importance to Paul. In order to establish that God’s favor and God’s approval really are what Paul most treasures, he lists three things that he never did when he was among the Thessalonians.

• “we never came with words of flattery”
• “we never came…with a pretext for greed”
• “Nor did we seek glory from people…”

Flattery. Greed. Glory.

A true minister remains free from these traps.

Even the pagan Greek philosophers understood this, as Craig Keener points out.

[The 1^st century philosopher] Dio Chrysostom criticized false philosophers, who feared insulting treatment from the masses, and he described their speech as vain. True philosophers, he said, spoke with boldness even in the face of opposition.[2]

As it turns out, nobody respects a person who shapes their words to fit perceived audience expectations.

A true minister of the gospel wants to hear, “Well done they good and faithful servant,” whether or not he ever hears, “We really like you, pastor!”

Of course, if he can hear both, then even better! But he is striving for only one of these if he is a true minister!

Not too long ago I read Rae Jean Proeschold-Bell’s Faithful and Fractured: Responding to the Clergy Health Crisis. In it, she wrote:

Antidepressant medication was recently recommended to a clergy friend. She balked—perhaps thinking that if she were spiritually and mentally stronger, she wouldn’t need it. The psychiatrist said, “You know most of your colleagues are on antidepressants, right?”[3]

That stood out to me. There is no shame, I hasten to add, in a minister taking antidepressant medication. But one would be right to wonder at any profession in which “most” of those in that profession were battling depression.

I, of course, known nothing of Proeschold-Bell’s friend, but it has been my observation over a few decades of ministry now that the most brutal psychological aspect of the ministry is the question of the approval of the congregation, either actual or perceived. In short, I would suggest that if one attempts to ground one’s psychological well-being in the approval of a large group of people, one might just go outright mad. In the church, that kind of approach is especially injurious to the ministry and the minister.

We should care, of course, if others are unhappy with us because we are wrong or behaving wrongly or have done wrong. But a true minister cannot make decisions or write sermons or seek to shepherd the people of God on the basis of a popularity poll. It simply cannot be done.

We must not be arrogant. We certainly must not think that our opinions are God’s opinions. That is blasphemy. A true minister can be wrong and, when he is, he must say, “I was wrong.” But the true minister must approach every situation with care and humility and caution and God’s Word and the internal witness of the Holy Spirit and ask: “What would God have me do?” He must not ask, “What will make the most people happy?”

Paul sought God’s approval above all others!

A true minister loves the church.

And a true minister loves the body of Christ, loves the church. Listen:

⁷ But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. ⁸ So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us.

This is one of the more tender and beautiful things Paul ever wrote. When he and his team were in Thessalonica, before they had to leave, they “were gentle…like a nursing mother taking care of her own children.” What is more, they were “affectionately desirous” of the church, to the extent that they “were ready to share” not only the gospel “but also our own selves.” David Bentley Hart translates “our own selves” as “our own souls”: “it pleased us to give you not only God’s good tidings, but our own souls.”[4]

Why? “Because you had become very dear to us.”

This is a picture of a minister who genuinely loves the church. Who feels care and concern for the church.

It is profoundly disheartening how many ministers do not seem to love, much less like, the church they are called to served. But a true minister does. A true minister cares.

A true minister conducts himself rightly and calls upon the church to do the same.

And a true minister behaves himself. He not only acts rightly, he calls upon the church to do the same.

⁹ For you remember, brothers, our labor and toil: we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to any of you, while we proclaimed to you the gospel of God. ¹⁰ You are witnesses, and God also, how holy and righteous and blameless was our conduct toward you believers. ¹¹ For you know how, like a father with his children, ¹² we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory.

The righteousness of Paul and his team was found in this. They:

• worked hard and did not abuse the church;
• proclaimed the gospel;
• lived lives of holiness and righteousness;
• called upon the church to do the same (i.e., “to walk in a manner worthy of God”).

The true minister, then, not only has right doctrine, he has right practice. In seminary they used to speak a good deal of “orthodoxy” and “orthopraxy,” of right theology and right living. The minister must have both.

Or, to put it another way, the minister must act like Jesus. To be sure, we fail to do this, but we must strive. Think of how Paul has painted a picture of Jesus here:

• A proclaimer of the gospel.
• A seeker of God’s approval.
• A person marked by love.
• A person of holiness.

This is a picture of Jesus.

The true minister must look like Jesus.

Think back on the unfortunate language of the Rabbi at the beginning of this sermon: “I’m not here to please God. I’m here to please God’s people.”

Now, with Paul’s words in mind, consider an alternative example. Ignatius of Antioch was one of the early church fathers.

He was martyred in the Colosseum of Rome, torn apart by lions, as the tradition says, early in the 2^nd century. In his letter to the Roman church, Ignatius says something fascinating. He writes:

Since God has answered my prayer to see you godly people, I have proceeded to ask for more. I mean, it is as a prisoner for Christ Jesus that I hope to greet you, if indeed it be [God’s] will that I should deserve to meet my end. Things are off to a good start. May I have the good fortune to meet my fate without interference! What I fear is your generosity which may prove detrimental to me. For you can easily do what you want to, whereas it is hard for me to get to God unless you leave me alone. I do not want you to please men to please God, just as you are doing. For I shall never again have such a chance to get to God, nor can you, if you keep quiet, get credit for a finer deed. For if you quietly let me alone, people will see in me God’s word. But if you are enamored of my mere bodily presence, I shall, on the contrary, be a meaningless noise. Grant me no more than to be a sacrifice for God while there is an altar at hand.[5]

What does this mean? It means that Ignatius is pleading for the Roman Christians not to make a big fuss over him or try to pay off officials to save him from his martyrdom. Ignatius believed it was God’s will for him to pay the ultimate price, and that God would get the glory for it!

As William Schoedel summarizes Ignatius’ words:

…he “fears” their “love” (that is, their effort to get him released); such love may “harm” him (by preventing his martyrdom); they are to “spare” him (by not standing in the way of his death); it is “easy for them to contemplate seeking his release…and “hard” for him to attain God if their efforts succeed…[6]

How fascinating! This much is true: Ignatius was determined to please God and not man and he wanted the church to do the same. He feared the love of the people lest their love of him keep him from seeing God. So, he asked them to step back and let him be obedient to the point of death.

The historical particulars of this are wonderfully strange to our ears, but let us be sure of this: This is the way forward, not “I’m not here to please God. I’m here to please God’s people.”

Yes, this is the way forward for the minister and for the church: a total embrace of the gospel leading to a radical commitment to the glory and pleasure of God.
Let it be so in our lives today!

 

[1] https://www.firstthings.com/article/1993/05/against-peer-fear

[2] Keener, Craig S. The IVP Bible Background Commentary: New Testament (IVP Bible Background Commentary Set) (p. 584). InterVarsity Press. Kindle Edition.

[3] Proeschold-Bell, Rae Jean. Faithful and Fractured: Responding to the Clergy Health Crisis. Baker Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

[4] Hart, David Bentley. The New Testament. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2017), p.406.

[5] Gorday, Peter, ed. Colossians, 1–2 Thessalonians, 1–2 Timothy, Titus, Philemon. Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture. Gen. Ed. Thomas C. Oden. New Testament, Vol. IX (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2000), p.64.

[6] Schoedel, William R. Ignatius of Antioch. Hermeneia. Ed. Helmut Koester (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1985), p.168.