Ministry

Must Pastors Be Good Managers? Paul Says So (1 Timothy 3:4–5)

Kirk E. Miller

“He must manage his own household well … for if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church?” (1 Timothy 3:4–5)

Sometimes we pit being pastoral against being organized and professional. But, according to Paul, part of being pastoral is managing well.

The word Paul uses for “manage” here (προΐστημι) is elsewhere used in the sense of ruling or leading.1 Thus, some translate it to “be in charge of, preside over,”2 “to superintend,”3 or to govern, as one governs a city.4

What is the significance of this requirement that overseers (pastors, elders) must manage their own household well? As Luke Timothy Johnson answers, “With this qualification, we reach the specifically administrative capacities of the potential supervisor. The participle ‘ruling well’ comes from the verb prohistēmi, which means to ‘govern or administer…'”5 In other words, it relates to the administrative competencies of a potential overseer.

Paul specifically mentions ruling one’s “house” well though. But as Philip H. Towner reminds us, given the nature of

“the ancient household concept (oikos), the stipulation here initially exceeds issues of parenting and husbanding to include management of slaves, property, business interests and even maintenance of important relationships with benefactors/patrons or clients. … The dominance of the oikos in shaping patterns of leading, management, authority and responsibility within the cultural framework made it the natural model for defining the overseer’s position. The adverb ‘well’ (3:12, 13; 5:17) attached to the verb of management establishes the high standard of proficiency Paul expects in candidates for church leadership.”6

Thus, we shouldn’t pit these against each other—pastoring and managing. In fact, to the contrary: we must hold them together. Managing well, being organized, and leading in an orderly way is a way to shepherd and care well for people.

In contrast, recklessness, carelessness, disorganization, and miscommunication often hurt people and result in the opposite of caring well for people. Paul even goes as far as to say such poor management is disqualifying.

Notes

  1. See BDAG. ↩︎
  2. Andreas J. Köstenberger, 1-2 Timothy & Titus, ed. T. Desmond Alexander, Thomas R. Schreiner, and Andreas J. Köstenberger, Evangelical Biblical Theology Commentary (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2021), 130. ↩︎
  3. R. C. H. Lenski, The Interpretation of St. Paul’s Epistles to the Colossians, to the Thessalonians, to Timothy, to Titus and to Philemon (Columbus, OH: Lutheran Book Concern, 1937), 585. ↩︎
  4. Martin Dibelius and Hans Conzelmann, The Pastoral Epistles: A Commentary on the Pastoral Epistles, Hermeneia—a Critical and Historical Commentary on the Bible (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1972), 53. ↩︎
  5. He goes on to cite contemporaneous uses of this Greek word for support. Luke Timothy Johnson, The First and Second Letters to Timothy: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, vol. 35A, Anchor Yale Bible (New Haven; London: Yale University Press, 2008), 216. ↩︎
  6. Philip H. Towner, The Letters to Timothy and Titus, The New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2006), 254-255. ↩︎

Is Confrontation Always What’s Needed? A Potential Pitfall of Nouthetic Counseling

Kirk E. Miller

Nouthetic counseling emphasizes the need to help people primarily by confronting their sin and offering what is perceived as Biblical correction. As the Logos Factbook defines it, Nouthetic counseling is “[a] form of Christian counseling emphasizing biblical teaching and confrontation of sin to address personal problems.”

Now, I’m not trying to broad brush all practices of Biblical—or Nouthetic counseling—as necessarily being guilty of this error. But I do worry that this emphasis on confronting sin as the remedy leads many to too quickly see confronting sin as the needed medicine in almost every pastoral encounter.

When the only tool one has is a hammer—when this is all one’s may trained in or attuned to look for—everything can look like a nail. One goes on the hunt for nails—or worse, creates them when one can’t easily find one.

Furthermore, when one perceives their primary job as sin-confronting, this can encourage one to be quick to make assessments (assumptions) in order to swiftly identify that sin that needs confronting. When one thinks their primary job is to confront, they’re more apt to become slow to listen and quick to speak (cf. James 1:19), since, of course, confronting requires speaking. And if it’s actually loving to confront (as indeed it sometimes is), we can give ourselves license to ungentle, blunt speech.

But contrast this one-size-fits-all approach to pastoral care with Paul’s wise words in 1 Thess 5:14: “[W]e urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all.” Paul instructs different approaches to different people facing and experiencing different situations. Notably, consider his words about the fainthearted and imagine the effect that assuming confrontation is the one-size-fits-all, blunt-confrontation solution might have on this person.

And when we disciple others in this approach, we unwittingly train them to respond to others like Job’s friends (“There must be some sin at root here that’s to blame”)—whom God rebuked, we should remember.

Do You Reach Out When Church Members Leave?

Kirk E. Miller

Church member, when someone resigns their membership and leaves your church, do you take the time to reach out to them?

If someone leaves your church due to a life transition, such as moving away for work or school, I hope you connect with them, say goodbye, and pray for them as they go. But I also have in view those who leave for other, often unannounced, reasons. What about those who leave? Do you also reach out to them to care for them as they go?

What if you made it a point to never let a fellow member leave without reaching out to them?

If we take church membership seriously—as a covenant to the church and to one another—then our commitment to fellow members certainly includes caring for and looking out for each other while we are members of the same church. Being a part of a church involves promises and obligations to every member.

But it would also seem that part of honoring that covenant means caring about members as they leave and caring enough about the circumstances that led to their exit. Or do you simply cut ties, as if their departure doesn’t matter?

Consider what it communicates when someone leaves a church only to have zero—or very few—show even the most minimal amount of care so as to reach out. Departing from a church is often a difficult decision, at times occurring under already painful circumstances. For no one to reach out likely adds to that pain, making such people feel forgotten, neglected, like they apparently must not have mattered much to those who were once their fellow members, of no consequence to the very church they once called “family.”

Perhaps you’re thinking, “But that’s uncomfortable.” When, though, was church membership ever about your own personal comfort? Christlike community (see Phil 2:4b) involves caring enough about others to endure any personal discomfort for the good and care of others. It requires de-centering ourselves: our comfort and interests are not the priority (Phil 2:4a).

2:4a Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. 2:4b Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus.—Philippians 2:4

Higher Suicide Rates Among Autistic Individuals Due to Exclusion—Churches Are No Exception

Kirk E. Miller

Trigger warning: Some of the following quotes mention suicide.

Some quotes of interest from some reading I was doing today:

Conner, Caitlin M., Amy Ionadi, and Carla A. Mazefsky. “Recent Research Points to a Clear Conclusion: Autistic People Are Thinking About, and Dying by, Suicide at High Rates.” The Pennsylvania Journal on Positive Approaches 12, no. 3 (November 2023): 69–76.

“[A]utistic people are more likely to die from suicide than non-autistic people. Autistic people are also more likely to have suicidal ideation and to make attempts.

Based on rates from a recent meta-analysis (statistical analysis to combine rates from published studies on the topic), 20% of autistic children and teens reported suicidal ideation in the past year, and 10% reported suicide attempts. Non-autistic children and teens comparatively report rates of 14.2% for suicidal thoughts and 4.5% for suicidal attempts. This suggests that the rates of suicide attempts are double in autistic children and teens compared to non-autistic children and teens.

The comparisons for adults are even more striking. For autistic adults, 42% reported suicidal ideation in the past year, and 18% reported attempts. In studies of people who were first diagnosed as autistic in adulthood, over 60% reported having suicidal ideation. Comparatively, non-autistic adults reported rates of 4.8% for suicidal ideation and 0.7% for suicidal attempts. Therefore, available data suggests that autistic adults are 25 times more likely to make a suicide attempt than non-autistic adults. …

One reason for higher rates of suicidality in autistic people might be that many known risk factors (that increase a person’s risk) for suicide are also more likely in autistic people. The most commonly cited examples of these risk factors are depression and lacking social support, but other risk factors common in both suicidality and autism include rumination (getting ‘stuck’ on negative thoughts and emotions), loneliness, difficulties with problem solving, difficulty using coping skills when upset, experiencing trauma or abuse, and being impulsive. …

Studies have also examined protective factors (related to being less likely to have suicidal thoughts or behaviors) like social support, finding that autistic adults’ feeling of having supportive social connections is associated with a lack of suicidal thoughts or attempts. …

Additionally, research has shown that there are potentially unique risk … factors for suicidal thoughts and behaviors in autistic people, like masking their autism characteristics, autistic burnout, and sensory overload. … [O]ften autistic people experience suicidality as a reaction to repeated negative social experiences.”

Cynthia Tam, Kinship in the Household of God: Towards a Practical Theology of Belonging and Spiritual Care of People with Profound Autism (Eugene, Oregon: Pickwick Publications, 2021).

“Among the different disability groups, Ault et al. found that individuals with autism were the least likely to receive welcome and support in the faith communities [Ault et al., “Congregational Participation,” 58].”

“[B]y examining the data of church attendance in the American National Survey of Children’s Health over the ten years ending in 2012, Andrew Whitehead discovered that young people living with autism were consistently the least likely to be attending a church [Whitehead, “Religion and Disability,” 387.].”

“People with autism are commonly portrayed as people living in their own world, not interested in social relationships, and unable to empathize with others’ emotions. … This way of understanding autism is constructed based on societal norms for acceptable behaviors.”

“However, if we listen to the voices of people with autism published in recent years, we will hear that they do want to have social relationships with others. More often than not, we, people in society, are responsible for the communication breakdown and the failure to connect with those living with autistic experiences.”

“What does it mean to be a church for everyone? It is, to state the obvious, to suggest that church communities are not always as welcome and loving towards those whom they consider to be ‘strangers.’ Despite the fact that the central doctrine of the Body of Christ informs us that we should be a community where difference is present, but never divisive, many congregations still struggle to include people with particular forms of difference. Time and again we find stories of people with disabilities being excluded from congregations… The church has become a place of struggle rather than welcome.” (John Swinton, “Preface”)

“Thomas Reynolds calls the church that sets up social boundaries between the abled and the disabled, the ‘cult of normalcy’ [Reynolds, Vulnerable Communion, 59–60]. ‘Normalcy,’ according to Reynolds, is a ‘cultural system of social control’ [Reynolds, Vulnerable Communion, 49]. It presumes a certain bodily appearance and the ability to be representative of a community’s identity. As such, it marks out who can and cannot belong to the community. To belong, they have to be like us.”

“Once we understand how the perception of people with autism is socially constructed, examining how we currently belong as a church … will show sharply the societal norms that have crept into the church. Instead of valuing all members of Christ’s body, the church has adopted societal standards such as independence, productivity, physical appearance, and appropriate behavioral etiquette in how we welcome and value each other. … Discovering how we perceive and receive members with unique differences will also cause us to re-examine the nature of the church and how we belong as a community. The ultimate goal is to reimagine the Christian community as God’s loving family in which members, regardless of differences in abilities, stand in solidarity with each other.”

Michael R. Emlet, Autism Spectrum Disorder: Meeting Challenges with Hope (Greensboro, NC: New Growth Press, 2023), 15–16.

“[W]e who are more neurotypical must not jump to conclusions about what is sin and what is not. Our tendency may be to shade the truth a bit to protect our reputation, or to tell someone what she wants to hear to avoid a conflict. … There is something to learn here from someone on the autism spectrum. After all, they find it difficult to be sneaky or deceitful, and their honesty catches us off guard.

Let’s not forget the strengths that individuals with ASD can bring to the table: unique and creative insights, passionate and exhaustive knowledge of particular subjects, ability to think visually and systematically, intelligence, and a quirky sense of humor, to name a few.”

The Harmful Simplicity of Reductionistic Theology

Kirk E. Miller

I take no issue with making the gospel central in all things (the church, preaching, the Christian life, etc.)

But one of the results of a malformed gospel-centeredness is a reductionistic theology that treats nearly every issue someone faces as a matter of sin to be dealt with. Sin is always seen, diagnosed, and treated as a root cause. Why? Because if the gospel is the solution to everything, and that gospel is primarily, if not exclusively, understood in terms of addressing sin, then sin is always the issue, and addressing sin with the gospel is always the solution.

I theorize we’re also susceptible due to a simplistic conception of total depravity. We give our doctrine of total depravity what we might call “maximalist” interpretive power. Yes, we are pervasively sinful (Isa 1:6). Total depravity is true. But, along with our simplistic gospel-centeredness, we misconstrue the doctrine of total depravity into a fixation on looking for sin everywhere. We misapply the doctrine of total depravity by searching for sin “behind every bush” and over-spiritualizing situations. But not everything is sin or is to explained by sin—at the very least, not exclusively so.

Added to this, training in pastoral counseling often focuses on teaching pastors how to address sin. So pastors are hardwired to approach situations in terms of sin and sanctification. Those are their default operating categories. The danger is, when you’re a hammer, you start to see everything as a nail.

I call all of this “reductionistic” because it takes true things (e.g., sin and a gospel that addresses it), but embraces these true things at the exclusion of other true things. For instance, someone comes to a pastor in suffering. But, instead of seeing their signs of trauma and affliction for what they are, the pastor diagnoses them as displaying a sinful refusal trust in God, rest in Christ, and obey the call to contentment. Instead of caring for the person and acknowledging their plight, they add insult to injury: they take someone who is suffering, and now further inflict them with wrongful condemnation. Often the suffering is ignored as not the “real” issue. Moreover, the sufferer may be treated as contentious or unrepentant when they (rightly) push back at the bad counsel.

The reality, though, is that humans are both sinners and sufferers. We are not only perpetrators of evil, but also victims to it. We not only sin; we are also sinned against. And the gospel meets not merely our sin but also our suffering. The good news (gospel) is not only that our sin is forgiven, but that Christ will undue the curse in all its effects—including evil and suffering.

This means, for example, that:

  • Although the Bible tells us to cast our cares on God (1 Peter 5:7), it also leads us in lament (complaint) to God (see the Psalter). Apparently the two are not mutually exclusive!
  • Or again, God is sovereign, but humans are also responsible. God’s sovereignty is not an excuse for inaction and resigning ourselves to evil and injustice. Sovereignty isn’t the same as fatalism; God uses means.
  • Yes, we are to forgive those who sinned against us (Eph 4:32). Yes, God will ultimately judge when Christ comes again (Acts 17:31). But God also establishes means for provisional justice in this life too (e.g., Rom 13:1–7). These are not mutually exclusive.
  • God works all things for good for those who love him (Rom 8:28). Yet among the things he works for good are things that are evil (see vv.35–39). Just because he works something for good does not mean it itself is good—and we don’t need to pretend that it is! These, too, are not mutually exclusively.

We could go on…

Why this matters? Bad theology makes for bad counsel. More pointedly, bad pastoral theology makes for pastoral malpractice—even spiritual abuse.