Sometime during third grade our class had a writing contest. The contest was one of description. Our teacher made each student look at some object in the room and make it come alive on the page. The teacher then picked the best two submissions. The winners went to an all-expense paid “Future Writer’s Workshop.” The teacher—Mrs. Yoke, as I recall—happened to pick my paper and I promptly declared to my parents that I would be a writer when I grew up.

I still hope to grow up and be an author. I have a folder on my computer titled, “Books to Be Written.” Hundreds of thousands of words are in that folder. And not a single one has been published. Only the Lord knows if one will ever be published.

“Stop Longing and Listen,” He Says to Me

There are times when I pray for a bit of margin to slam out a book proposal or polish off that manuscript. I long to make good on that third-grade declaration of future occupation. It’s in those moments, however, that I often sense an inspired voice saying, “You already are a writer. Remember 2 Corinthians 3:1-3.” There the Untimely Apostle says, “Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, as some do, letters of recommendation to you, or from you? You yourselves are our letter of recommendation, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all. And you show that you are a letter from Christ delivered by us, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.”

Oh, the comforts of Scripture! God calls every pastor to be a writer.

Real, But Unreadable Writing

For the next two weeks, I’m at The Institution working on a couple of Ph.D. seminars. I will speak with professors who publish books as often as Messi puts the ball in the back of the net. I will be around other students who are under contract with a publisher or have just published a book. Literary ambition is palpable around these halls. I confess I often get caught up in it all.

So, think of this short post as nothing more than an exercise in personal reminding. God doesn’t hold his servants accountable to writing pages for reading. He holds us accountable to writing real books, but books you can’t read. The congregation’s life in Christ is the book we write. The families we shepherd are the chapters. The individuals we oversee are the paragraphs.

The pastor has three pens he must wield in this work: word, sacrament, and prayer. These ordinary means are how the pastor writes on hearts—they are our Spirit-wrought epistolary tools. We wield this spiritual quill and ink unto exhaustion. Here we agonize with all God’s energy that he powerfully works within us. Here we write.

In Praise of Pastor-Writers

Maybe you are like me—you hope to publish a book eventually. Or maybe that sounds as enjoyable to you as watching turtles race.

Whatever your literary ambition is, God’s word unites us all in this spiritual writing ministry. Every pastor must be a writer. We should say, “Every pastor is already a writer.“ The great question is, “What spiritual book are we writing?” Let us desire, with Paul, to say to our churches, “You are Christ’s letter.”

We write Christ.

Lord willing, later tonight The Upper Room rides again at IDC. TUR is our somewhat regular men’s gathering. It’s our standard practice to sing, eat, and then throw some topic on the table for extended discussion and prayer. Tonight we plan to answer this question, “What Does God Require from His Men?”

Knowing that the question can be answered biblically from a variety of places in Sacred Scripture, tonight’s aim is to walk through Paul’s qualifications for elders in 1 Timothy 3. An elder is to be an example for the church (1 Pet. 5:3), and a mold pressed into the lives of his members, so they attain a similar shape of godliness (1 Tim. 4:12). Therefore, with confidence, we can answer the above question by saying, “Look at what God requires of His shepherds.”

One thing we will do tonight in small groups is try to give somewhat ordinary, everyday definitions to Paul’s requirements. Here’s my stab at the fourteen listed in 1 Timothy 3:2-7.

[Somewhat] Colloquial Definitions for Elder Qualifications

1) Above reproach: It would be surprising (even shocking!) to discover this man fell into sin. His reputation is one of exemplary character and pervasive holiness.

2) The husband of one wife: In thought, word, and deed he is satisfied with the wife of his youth—the marriage bed is kept pure.

3) Sober-minded: He is not given to fits of passion, but is steady in mind and spirit.

4) Self-controlled: He keeps his emotions constrained with love to Christ.

5) Respectable: His typical behavior is orderly and worthy of honor.

6) Hospitable: He consistently seeks to love any and all who are strangers to him.

7) Able to teach: He knows sound doctrine and loves to talk about it, defend it, and commend it.

8) Not a drunkard: Concerning the fruit of the vine, the Spirit controls him—as He does in everything else.

9) Not violent but gentle: He is unacquainted with temper tantrums, but is a best friend of those virtues named Patience and Kindness.

10) Not quarrelsome: He seeks not to complain or argue; he instead proves true the old maxim: “Meekness is not weakness.”

11) Not a lover of money: He is not a greedy mercenary always occupied with the cash money; his storehouses overflow with heavenly treasures.

12) He must manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive: His children rise and with loving reverence say, “That’s my Daddy. I follow him as he follows Christ.” The glad gravity of godliness—which the Great Apostle calls dignity—seasons all his parenting.

13) He must not be a recent convert: Christ has been his constant companion and chief delight for many years.

14) Well thought of by outsiders: Those outside the church judge him faithful in all things.

For the last six months or so I’ve been tinkering away at constructing a theology of children. One of the many practical implications of such a study bears down on ordinary shepherding. I’ve come to realize that a fair amount of my eldering over the past few years has been more truncated than it ought to be.

Simply put: it’s easy to focus on the adults of a family and neglect the kids. Part of this is because many parents don’t bring their kids into gathered worship, so I don’t have that supernaturally precious time to shepherd them from the sacred desk. But even in pastoral visitation, I realize how much time I spend speaking with adults and how little time I spend with the children.

I think the Savior would say, “Dear brother, this should not be so.”

I know for sure that the revered Samuel Miller would say so.

Letters to a Young Pastor

In 1827, Samuel Miller published Letters on Clerical Manners, a collection of fourteen different letters he wrote to a student recently graduated from seminary and about to enter gospel ministry. The book is a fascinating glimpse into antebellum Presbyterian ministry and all the idiosyncrasies of the time (for instance, Miller regularly admonishes the student not to spit in public or when in the pulpit). The contextual hilarity, however, belies an astonishing amount of convicting wisdom.

Pay Particular Attention to Children

Miller’s sixth letter is all about pastoral visitation and the third point exhorts pastors to “be particularly attentive to children and young people.” Miller writes, “I have often wondered that a duty so obvious, and recommended by so many considerations, should be so much overlooked by discerning members.”

Here are a few statements that stand out on the subject I would invite you to prayerfully consider how to apply in your pastoral context:

• Can any thinking man fail to remember, that children are the hope of the church?
• Impressions made in the morning of life, are generally among the most permanent and ultimately beneficial?
• Instructions given, and sentiments then imbibed, though they may long lie dormant in the mind, often rise into life and fruitfulness, when he who gave them has gone to his eternal rest?
• Can it be forgotten, also, that all experience testifies the importance to a minister himself, of paying particular attention to the youth of his charge? It forms a bond of union between him and them which time, instead of severing, will rather strengthen.
• O, if ministers could fully anticipate the sweetness of children growing up to honor you as a father in Christ, a regard to their own happiness would unite with the purest benevolence, in impelling them to unwearied care in watching over the children of their charge, and in embracing every opportunity to enlighten their minds, and to win their hearts in favor of all that is good.
• Assiduous attention to children, are among the most direct and sure avenues to the hearts of parents. It often happens, indeed, that parents are more deeply gratified, by kind efforts to promote the welfare of their children, and are more lastingly thankful for them, than for the same kindness bestowed on themselves.

Endeavor in Every Place

What then, my dear ordinary pastor friend, are you doing to shepherd the little lambs in your fold? Never forget that Christ called for the little children to come to Him. Let us do the same. May you take Miller’s exhortation to “endeavor to gain their attention, to win their hearts [for Christ]” to your heart this coming Lord’s Day.