Introduction

Same-name meetups are a thing now, thanks to Facebook and Instagram.  Take the Josh Fight, for example, a charity fundraiser where dozens of “Josh”es brawl with pool noodles for the right to be called “Josh”.  Recently, 256 people named “Milica Jovanovic” gathered together at a mall in Belgrade to set a new record for the largest gathering of people with the same name.  The previous record was set in 2022 by 178 people named “Hirokazu Tanaka” in Tokyo.

Another same-name meetup occurred at a UK pub recently when 433 Nigels got together to “celebrate Nigelness”.  The name is endangered; no one in the UK named their baby Nigel in 2020.

Like the diminishing Nigels, gospel-centered pastors also seem to be an endangered species; fewer and fewer brothers are taking up the mantel or sticking it out.  Those who remain often feel beleaguered by hostile forces:  a media that brands them fools in every movie and sitcom; disappointed church members who want savvier chaplains to serve up the message according to their preferences.  Between external pressure and internal woes, is it any wonder that many pastors feel like nobody? 

In this post and the next, I want to zoom in on the nobody struggles that many pastors have, expanding on what I wrote in “God Loves Nobodies,” specifically the chapters entitled “productive somebodies” and “the Resurrection Gets Personal.” 

Identity Trouble

What a glorious moment Jesus’ baptism must have been!  God the Father proclaims to him and all the people around him:  “This is my boy!  I love him!  I am well-pleased with him!”  God the Father affirms his love and Jesus’ identity. 

And then Mark tells us that “at once” the Spirit led him out into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan.  Jesus goes from the highlight of his life to his greatest struggle so far within hours. 

Satan’s no idiot.  God decided that it was important to affirm Jesus’ identity; so, Satan immediately targets what?  Jesus’ identity.  Matthew 4:3, “If you really are the son of God…” Verse 6, “If you really are the son of God…”  “God thinks you’re something special, but how do you know for sure unless you do something great?”    

Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

Identity Temptations

My very first call into the public ministry was to an old country congregation with tombstones dating back to the Civil War.  I grew up in the suburbs, and now I was thrust into area where it seemed every second person was missing a digit from some sort of farm accident.  My neighbor across the street said “hi” to me one afternoon.  I asked him what he was up to.  He waved a little plastic baggy in my direction; “cut my finger off choppin’ wood.  Going to the hospital to get ‘er sewed back on”…like he was going to get his hair cut or pick up some milk for supper. 

In that little country congregation, the old timers would call me “Reverend” in the gruff way that they spoke to everyone – “Rev’r’nd”!  I was only 25 years old; the ink from my Seminary diploma was still wet, and I was being called “Reverend,” that is, “one who is revered.”

I don’t think it was this old country title for pastors that got me off on the wrong foot in public gospel ministry; but it was my natural, sinful desire to be revered, accomplished, known, respected above others—In short, my sinful desire to be somebody. 

Satan knows my weak spot.  He knows that, by nature, I am not secure in my Christian identity, not confident in God’s baptismal promise, “you are my son whom I love; with you I am well-pleased!”  I am not well-pleased with me, so I assume God and others must not be well-pleased, either…not unless I accomplish something magnificent or say something interesting, funny, or profound.  Therefore, Satan’s most powerful attacks are directed at my identity in Christ. 

Maybe you can identify.  He tempts you to authenticate your right to be God’s Son or to be loved by people by doing x.  For example, X is…

Preaching a good sermon so that people offer identity-affirming comments.  “Great job, pastor! You really gave it to ‘em!” 

Telling people that a sermon or Bible study was not good because you are fishing for their affirmation that it was fabulous. 

Writing articles or seeking positions so you can be somebody in the denomination, accepted by the brothers and sisters, somebody whose name people breathe with reverence when they see it on blog posts and promotional videos.

Saying something funny that cuts someone down so that other pastors think, “That guy’s a hoot!” 

Ignoring the needs of your spouse so you can woo other people you want to like you, trust you, and support you.  After all, she has to keep liking you; God says so. 

Why is all this so wrong?  Consider this quote:  “That man is an enemy to his Redeemer who on the strength of the good works he performs, desires to be loved by the Church, rather than by Him. Indeed, a servant is guilty of adulterous thought, if he craves to please the eyes of the bride when the bridegroom sends gifts to her by him.”  OUCH!  Imagine if you had caught your best man flirting with or, worse yet, kissing your fiancée minutes before the wedding.  How blasphemous when the groomsman woos Christ’s bride for himself…worse yet, he does it not even for love of the bride, but for the love of himself, to prove that he is somebody.  It’s no minor misdemeanor that we would use gospel ministry to juice up our wounded sense of self.

Collateral Damage

When you don’t appreciate who you are as a beloved child of God, you will use ministry to fill yourself up instead of filling others up with your ministry!  And that leaves a bloody trail of collateral damage. 

The longer you use ministry to fill yourself up…

…the more your lovely bride sees gospel ministry as a threat and as a mistress far more interesting and sexier than she could ever be.   

…the more your precious children question their own value before God, since you are the hands, feet, and voice of the Father to them. 

…the more depressing Mondays become. 

…the more easily you are hurt by those who criticize you and annoyed by those who don’t agree with you. 

…the more that you fret over previous conversations and pre-fret over future ones. 

…the more your heart is dragged back into the icy tyranny of the law.

…the less you rest as you obsess over proving that you are valuable and acceptable. 

…the less you return to the gospel for you own comfort, terrified that God won’t know you and still love you; you avoid the precious gospel you preach to others. 

I am thoroughly crushed by my pitiful attempts to achieve pastoral somebody status.  What a wretched man I am; who will rescue me from this body of death?  Thanks be to God through our Lord Jesus Christ! 

Next: Part 2 – Healthy Identity

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