The Montifiore Manse

Pain


In seminary, they do their best to prepare you for the ministry. At PRTS (Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary) they did their best to prepare us for the different temptations, trials, struggles, and ups and downs of the ministry. We were often told of the struggles and dangers of pride, prayerlessness, depression, greed, sexual temptation, sadness, loneliness, and laziness that constantly crop up in the ministry. But even though PRTS focused on these trials and struggles more then most seminaries, the curriculum still missed something.

Martin Luther has a marvelous summary of what makes a minister and what his work is:

"Three things make a divine: meditation, prayer, and temptation. And three things must be done by the minister of the word: search the Bible, pray seriously, and always remain a learner."
Brother Luther is profound in his simplicity, and puts his finger on pulse of the person and work of the minister, but he missed something.

What both my seminary training and brother Luther missed the Lord taught me other ways. What was missing? Pain.

Pain is a part of our life here until glory, and pain is part of the ministry.

The Lord first taught me about pain, especially the emotional variety, as I was growing up. For reasons that are my own, I often had a lot of pain growing up, like most of us do. No matter what I tried, in whatever situation it would arise in, I could not avoid the pain. I learned that pain was something that could not always be avoided and that it would usually pass. Pain was simply a fact that had to be lived with and dealt with, and by God's grace it can be lived with and dealt with. In my late teens, I came up with a phrase that kind of encapsulated what I felt the Christian approach to emotional pain should be: "Don't play the pain game."

When I was somewhere around seventeen or eighteen, I noticed a tendency and desire I had to make choices in life out of the principle of avoiding emotional pain. When it came to a particular decision, one of the major factors that would aid me in making my choice was "Well, which one hurts less?" When I realized I was doing this, it seemed like I was playing a game with pain - some sort of emotional chase, tag, or hide-and-seek. I found myself choosing to avoid pain even though there were crystal-clear Biblical, rational, or practical reasons to choose something that would cause emotional pain. I also began to notice that many other people "played the pain game" in life.

I would come across children who were abused, homeless alcoholics, doctors, and established business men who all made important choices in life out of the desire to avoid pain. Race, gender, class, and ethnicity made no difference. People often did not make decisions based on what the Biblical, or rational, or practical thing to do was, but rather based their decisions on what would cause them the least amount of emotional pain.

From that point on, I resolved not to let pain be a factor in my decision making. I would do what was right according to the Bible, reasoned necessity, and what was practical; pain was not to be a factor in the decision.

The second place I learned about pain was from the Lord Jesus Christ Himself. Never was there a man who so unswervingly refused to play the pain game. He was faced with choice after choice in His life on earth that meant doing the right thing, the will of His Father, and the increase of His own pain and suffering for doing so. He did what was right and pleasing to His Father regardless of the pain, even though it meant the torment and humiliation of dying on a cross. Biblical support for this can be found in Isaiah 53, and I recommend James Durham's sermons if you would like an exhaustive treatment of the subject.

The Lord taught me a right approach to pain in my teens, and we see it portrayed par excellence in the person and work of our Lord Jesus Christ, but I never self-consciously and specifically associated it with the work of the ministry. The Lord used the men of the Westminster Assembly to show that to me.

The men of the Westminster Assembly in 1648 - 1649 put together the Westminster Confession and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms (the Presbyterian Equivalent to the Dutch Reformed Belgic Confession, Heidelberg Catechism, and Canons of Dort). However, they also drew up a document called The Directory for the Public Worship of God. The Directory is a marvelous document (all the churches in the supposed "Presbyterian" and "Reformed" churches fighting amongst themselves and within themselves should consult it) that outlines the basics of Biblical public worship.

Part of public worship is the minister's work in preaching the Word. The Directory not only has guidance on the task of sermon preparation and preaching, but also how the minister is to "perform his whole ministry."

The first thing the directory states about the work of the ministry is that it is to be done: "Painfully, not doing the work of the negligent." What an amazing way to begin a job description: do this job so it hurts.

Why does doing the work of the ministry hurt?
Because the people do not understand? No.
Because the work is difficult? No.
Because the Lord does not grant strength? No.
The ministry hurts because doing the work of the ministry requires mortification of the flesh. It requires putting sin to death. It requires sacrificing even legitimate and lawful desires and maintaining a whole-hearted dedication to the work. As Thomas Boston put it in regards to his own struggles in the ministry, it means I must "put the knife to the throat of my own affections." It requires that we sacrifice, as our Lord did, everything to follow the will of our Heavenly Father.

It is true that such mortification and dedication is required of every Christian, but if the minister falls in these things, the people will also suffer. They will feel the effects of his backsliding, and he will be held doubly accountable for it before the Lord (Ezekiel 33:1-6). The pastor cannot feed the sheep if he is not feeding himself. He cannot comfort the people if he has not embraced the comfort of the Lord (2 Corinthians 1:3-6). He cannot minister the Word in public or in private if he has not felt its weight as of a hammer or been burned by it as by a fire (Jeremiah 23:29).

Pain is part of life and it is part of the ministry. By the grace of God, sin dies, pain tolerance increases, and there are times of rest in the battle - but the pain does not go away.

I am reminded of arm pounding in my old Karate class from many years ago (arm pounding is a blocking, coordinating, and conditioning exercise). When Sensei first taught us arm pounding, we objected and said, "Won't that hurt?" He responded simply, "That's the point." After our first round of arm pounding, Mr. Brian, one of the other instructors, asked what I thought of arm pounding. I told him it was fun but painful. He said, "Yeah, but it is a good pain."

The pain of mortification is a good pain. It is good for me, and I trust and pray it will be good for the souls the Lord Jesus has entrusted to my care. It is not easy, but it is a good pain.