Christian leaders must be people of character.

The only biblical qualification for Christian leadership is good character.

Yeah, I know; churches pick and qualify leaders for all sorts of other reasons. Usually for two reasons: They’re willing, and they’re able.

Willing means they actually wanna minister. Because so few Christians do! Or they may want to, but they’re timid, or don’t think they’re ready (sometimes for good reason), or they’re already super busy with other stuff… or to be honest, they like the idea of pitching in, but gah, the commitment. Now you gotta actually be at the Sunday morning services every single week; you can’t just decide, “Y’know, I’m taking this Sunday off to sleep in like a pagan,” because now you obligated yourself. Don’t you feel dumb.

Able means you can actually do the job. If the task is to run a Sunday school class, you actually know how to keep the kids’ attention, maintain order, and legitimately teach them something. Or, y’know, you know how to stand back and stream the video which does all the teaching for you, and be available in case any of the kids made a boom-boom in their pants—or know how to text their parents. The way some churches work, the “job” might be something a chimpanzee with a hammer could do… but hey, so can you!

But even if your church throws up their hands, contacts the zoo, and gets that chimpanzee: According to the scriptures, that chimp had better have good character. Otherwise she’s not qualified to minister whatsoever. And neither is any willing ’n able human who wants the job.

Character matters. Always has. Because when your leaders have bad character, you can’t trust ’em. They’ll be hypocrites and lie to cover up their misbehavior. They’ll break laws, get the other leaders to back ’em up, and take the entire church down with them. They’ll seize power and exploit people. They’ll abuse them, manipulate them, rob them of their time and money and dignity, and give ’em the worst advice about how to follow Jesus. In fact characterless leaders would much rather have you follow them than Jesus. And when you won’t—when you no longer serve their purposes or their lusts—they’ll threaten you with hell, drive you out of the church, or even convince you to quit Jesus. Because they’ll get you to believe Jesus is sending you to hell; or at least that Jesus is immoral, because how could a good Lord permit such evil people to run his churches?

Character used to matter in other positions of leadership as well. Namely secular leaders: The heads of corporations, the people who run clubs and civic organizations, the people we elect to office. Unfortunately, our larger society seems to have forgotten why character matters, and figure it’s more important to put people with talent and skill—capable people—in charge. ’Cause these folks get stuff done, and isn’t that what we want? And while yes, it’d be nice if our leaders were actually competent… you realize what happens when you put an evil but capable person in charge? You get even more evil, y’know.

Churches want capable people to lead ministries. I don’t blame ’em; it makes sense! So when they pick leaders, they tend to go with people with skills and talents. You want a pastor who’s taken counseling classes and knows how to empathetically guide and pray for lost and wayward people. You want a preacher who knows how to correctly research the bible, present a practical lecture on the findings, and not bore the listeners to sleep. You want musicians who can play an instrument well, remember the spotlight is supposed to be on Jesus not them, and grows in ability instead of playing the same 20 songs and nothing else. You want a facilities manager who knows how to keep the building in good, working condition. You want janitors who realize the little kids of your church touch everything, so make it clean! There oughta be job descriptions and expectations, and degrees and certificates where appropriate. And of course all of them need to believe your church’s faith statement, ’cause everybody who works for a church is gonna be seen as a leader, and therefore oughta know Jesus and his gospel, and basic doctrine.

But without good character, their skills and talents aren’t gonna contribute to God’s kingdom. They’re gonna use those abilities only to further themselves. At the expense of God’s kingdom.

Prayers of self-examination.

Likely you already know the “Rich Young Ruler Story”: It’s not a parable, ’cause it actually happened. Somebody—Matthew calls him a young man, Mt 19.20 Luke calls him a ruler, Lk 18.18 and all the synoptic gospels call him wealthy—came to Jesus, wanting to know how to receive eternal life. He was astute enough to realize following all of the LORD’s commands wasn’t gonna cut it. It took more than the very best karma, and maybe the rabbi knew what it was.

He didn’t like Jesus’s answer.

Mark 10.17-23 KJV

17 And when he was gone forth into the way, there came one running, and kneeled to him, and asked him, Good Master, what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life? 18 And Jesus said unto him, Why callest thou me good? there is none good but one, that is, God. 19 Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and mother. 20 And he answered and said unto him, Master, all these have I observed from my youth. 21 Then Jesus beholding him loved him, and said unto him, One thing thou lackest: go thy way, sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, take up the cross, and follow me. 22 And he was sad at that saying, and went away grieved: for he had great possessions. 23 And Jesus looked round about, and saith unto his disciples, How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the kingdom of God!

The teenager did have a deficiency. A few of them: A shortage of generosity. Too much dependence on his earthly possessions. True, at the end of this story he went away, and we don’t know what happened to him thereafter. I hope he repented, but the gospels don’t say.

His sad story aside, he reveals a form of prayer which we Christians oughta make from time to time. It’s a prayer of self-examination: We wanna know if there’s anything more God wants us to do. Are we missing something? Have we left anything undone? Any sins of omission? Do we have a blindspot? Maybe a bunch of blindspots. God, what are they?

In my experience it’s often basic stuff which we densely never realized we should also be doing. The rich young ruler didn’t realize he should’ve been giving to the poor. Which is weird, ’cause he claimed he totally followed the Law… but I guess he forgot this passage is in there:

Deuteronomy 15.11 KJV

For the poor shall never cease out of the land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, in thy land.

Greedy people have invented all sorts of justifications for not helping the needy. Christians may not necessarily be greedy (though yeah, some of us are) but some of us have heard these justifications all our lives… and learned to agree with them, and likewise do nothing to help the needy. We don’t even think about all the teachings of Jesus, all the commands in the scriptures, in which God expects us to help the needy. It’s become this massive blindspot for plenty of Christians: “Jesus himself said ‘The poor you will always have with you,’ so what’s the point in trying to solve the problem of poverty?” The rich young ruler is hardly the only person who never noticed his blindspot till Jesus pointed it out.

But deep down, he knew it was there. The Holy Spirit was poking him in the conscience. Same as he’s poking us in the conscience: “Hey, you’re overlooking something.” So let’s ask him: What’d we forget? What more must we do?

Unless, like the rich young ruler, we don’t really wanna know.

Saints’ days.

Today is 11 July. In North America this means it’s Free Slurpee Day at 7-Eleven convenience stores, ’cause most of us in North America write the date as 7/11 instead of 11/7. (Blame the British, who used to write their dates that way too. They switched to match the rest of Europe; we didn’t. Anyway.)

It also means today is the feast day of Benedetto de Norcia (480–548) whom English-speaking Christians know as Benedict of Nursia. He founded 12 Italian monastic communities, and created a list of rules for the monks to live by—“the Rule of St. Benedict,” which was adopted by European religious communities throughout the medieval period. The Roman Catholic Order of St. Benedict is named for him. So are a number of popes.

So today is St. Benedict’s Day. Well, it’s St. Benedict’s Day for Roman Catholics, Anglicans, Lutherans, and most Protestants; for the Orthodox Church in America it’s 14 March. Neither of those dates correspond to the day Benedict died, which is traditionally how feast days are determined; that’d be 21 March 547. Back in 1970, the Catholics changed the date ’cause they wanted to honor Benedict, but Lent kept getting in the way, and you don’t fast on feast days, so they figured it was easier to move it to where nobody would schedule a time of fasting. As for the Orthodox… well, it’s close enough.

As I said, a saint’s day is traditionally the anniversary of their death. Usually by martyrdom: They’d get murdered or executed, sometimes in nasty ways, for following Jesus. And since ancient Christians didn’t always know these folks’ birthdays, the date of their death would do as a marker. Plus it’s the day they went to be with our Lord.

Of course there are exceptions. Like St. Benedict’s Day, which got moved for convenience. Like saints from the bible, or saints whose date of martyrdom and birthday we don’t know. And of course there are recent saints, whose birthdays are more likely to get celebrated than their date of death—which is why Martin Luther King Jr. Day is on or around 15 January, not 4 April.

The Good Shepherd Story.

John 10.11-21.

In the previous bit, Jesus says he’s the sheepfold gate. In this bit, Jesus says he’s the good shepherd.

These passages don’t confuse a lot of people, because most of us have plenty enough brainpower to keep up with the idea of Jesus switching metaphors. “I’m the gate; you don’t go in around me. And I’m the shepherd—a good shepherd, who defends his sheep, unlike people who only start up a church for the power and money and fame, and the instant things get serious or rough, they bail on their church in Seattle, Washington and move to Scottsdale, Arizona, and con another flock into following them.”

…Okay yeah, I’m sounding a tad specific there, like I have a particular guy in mind. Maybe I do. But you could swap in any two cities in the United States—or the planet—and you’ll probably find a bad shepherd fleeing from town to town, hoping to evade accountability so he can get away with yet more evil. There have been bad shepherds throughout history. The people of Jesus’s day no doubt knew a few; maybe some rabbi who stole all his synagogue’s money, or one who slept around, or one who touched the children. Human nature doesn’t change, and ravenous wolves still try to feast on the faithful. So these things still happen.

But Jesus is the good shepherd. Kinda like the LORD is in Psalm 23… and since Jesus is the LORD, it’s totally okay to apply that psalm to him. But let’s deal with today’s passage first.

John 10.11-21 KWL

11 “I’m the good shepherd.

The good shepherd puts down his soul for the sheep.

12 The hireling, being no shepherd—

who isn’t the sheep’s own shepherd—

he sees the wolf coming,

and he abandons the sheep and flees.

The wolf snatches and scatters them.

13 Because he’s a hireling!

He doesn’t care about anything about the sheep.

 

14 “I’m the good shepherd.

I know who’s mine,

and who’s mine know me.

15 Just as the Father knows me,

and I know the Father.

16 I have other sheep,

which aren’t from this sheepfold.

It’s necessary for me to lead them as well:

They’ll hear my voice,

and they’ll become one flock, one shepherd.

 

17 “This is why the Father loves me:

I put down my soul,

so I can pick it up again.

18 No one takes it away from me;

instead I put it down by myself.

I have the power to put it down,

and I have the power to pick it up again.

I receive this command from my Father.”

 

19 Again, there became a split among the Judeans

about these words.

20 Many were saying about him, “He has a demon,”

and “He’s raving mad; do you hear him?”

21 Others were saying, “These sayings aren’t demonic;

a demon isn’t able to open blind eyes!”

Jesus says a lot of profound things here, and of course the Judeans’ response was to either say, “Well of course he’s the good shepherd,” or if you’re a bit more closed-minded, “Oh he’s just babbling complete nonsense. Who does he think he is, God or something?”

As you might remember, parables tend to go right over the heads of the closed-minded—not necessarily because they can’t follow what Jesus means by them, but because they have no faith in Jesus. They might totally agree with the metaphor of Jesus’s followers being sheep—but they’re gonna dismiss and ignore the rest. It’s childish rubbish, meant for weak-minded sheeple.

“By faith alone.”

SOLA FIDE 'soʊ.lə 'fi.deɪ noun. Short for the Latin iustificatio sola fide jus.ti.fi'kat.jo 'so.la 'fi.de, “justification by faith alone”: The Protestant doctrine that our right standing before God depends only on the basis of our trust in him.

2. The popular Evangelical belief that salvation is solely achieved through orthodox Christian belief (i.e. faith).

Yeah, I listed two definitions of sola fide above. One’s right; one’s wrong.

One’s taught in seminaries, and debated by Protestants and Roman Catholics, ’cause Catholics insist justification is a little more detailed than that. They would argue it has to include God’s grace, and our faith-response has to produce good fruit. I don’t disagree! But they’re just going into greater detail about what justification means, whereas the Protestant Reformers simply put the complex idea into very basic words. God’s looking for people to trust him. When we do, he justifies us. We now have a connection to him, a relationship with him; we must abide in him, and he will abide in us. Jn 15.4 And fruit will grow, and we’ll inherit his kingdom.

The other is all over popular Christian culture, and is taught in way too many churches by people who never bothered to learn sola fide is short for iustificatio sola fide. They don’t know “by faith alone” refers to justification. Or they do, but they just presume justification and salvation are the same thing—if God considers us right with him, doesn’t this automatically make us saved?

Plus they’ve defined faith wrong. When they say faith, they don’t mean “trust in God.” They mean religion. They mean orthodox Christian beliefs; the faith of the first Christians, the faith of the ancient church, the faith of our fathers, the creeds, the church’s faith statement, the right stuff to believe. To them, sola fide means we believe that—and once we believe all the right things, we’re saved!

(And conversely, they also believe if we don’t believe the right things, we’re not saved.)

In short, to them sola fide means “saved by the Christian faith alone.” Saved by orthodoxy. I call it “faith righteousness.” Thing is, it’s not at all what the scriptures teach. We’re not saved by the good work of making sure we embrace all the proper Christian doctrines—because that’d mean we’re saved by good works. And the gospel doesn’t teach we’re saved by karma, but grace.