Deception doesn’t shout; it whispers. This prayer helps you spot the lies before they steal your peace or pull you away from God.

Annually, I gather with two groups of senior pastors. We know and love each other well, so we talk about life’s heavy topics, laugh, and cry. At our gatherings, we each share: “Over the past year, I have experienced the following heartaches, hallelujahs, and hopes.” No matter how many heartaches are shared, we always conclude that the hallelujahs of gospel ministry far outweigh them. The past five years have been particularly challenging for pastors—from navigating unprecedented global crises to facing increased scrutiny and criticism. Many pastors have questioned their calling. Sadly, some have discouraged young men from entering ministry by painting a picture of endless frustration and diminished respect. The challenges are real, but we shouldn’t miss the extraordinary dignity and eternal significance of gospel ministry. It’s worth pursuing despite the difficulties. Paul’s defense of his ministry in 2 Corinthians 2:12–3:6 offers a much-needed corrective to our contemporary tendencies to either despise the pastoral office or measure it by worldly standards. He reminds us that those considering pastoral ministry must think neither too little nor too much of this calling. We must see it as God does. Importance of Preaching When Paul describes his preaching ministry, he uses language that should jolt us awake to its significance. Preaching isn’t a mere job, or even a noble profession. It’s a divine mission with eternal consequences. Paul declares that God, in Christ, “always leads us in triumphal procession” (2:14). The minister’s task is inherently divine. His triumph is assured, and he serves as a personal ambassador of Christ. Through faithful preaching, “the knowledge of [Jesus]” spreads everywhere. This statement connects directly to Jesus’s promise that when the gospel has been preached to all nations, the end will come (Matt. 24:14). Gospel ministers are integral participants in God’s unfolding plan of history. Paul’s words remind us that those considering pastoral ministry must think neither too little nor too much of this calling. Paul also emphasizes that the gospel message carries ultimate consequences. When we preach, people either respond in faith and live with Christ forever, or they reject the gospel and face eternal separation from God. We preach the same message to both groups, but the outcomes are eternally different. This reality should fundamentally shape how prospective ministers view sermon preparation and pulpit ministry. You’re not crafting inspirational talks or motivational speeches; you’re proclaiming a message with life-and-death consequences. This truth transforms everything about preaching. Nervousness shifts from worry about forgetting points or stumbling over words to the weightier concern of being a faithful ambassador of God’s message. Preparation shifts from a professional duty to an exercise in eternal significance. Privilege of Personal Ministry Preaching is of prime significance, but gospel ministry extends far beyond the pulpit. Paul’s relationship with the Corinthians reveals the deeply personal nature of pastoral work. It’s unlike any other calling. Notice the intimacy of Paul’s words: “You yourselves are our letter of recommendation, written on our hearts, known and read by all” (2 Cor. 3:2). This isn’t professional distance but fatherly love. Pastors are called to love the people to whom they preach with the love of Christ himself. This makes preaching fervent, applicable, and appropriately tempered. Such love carries a beautiful burden. Like a father with his children, a pastor can’t simply leave people’s problems at the office. He carries their concerns in his heart wherever he goes, spending sleepless nights worrying about them and praying for them. Only fathers carry their children’s concerns so constantly, and pastors carry such concerns for many spiritual children in addition to their own families. More remarkable still is the privilege of participating in God’s miraculous work of sanctification. Paul explains that the “letters” he works with are “written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts” (v. 3). Pastors serve as pens in the hand of the Holy Spirit! The true measure of our success isn’t whether people follow us but whether they’re walking with Christ with an obedience that flows from hearts renewed and made grateful by the Spirit’s ministry through the Word. Divine Enablement for an Impossible Task Paul’s honest assessment of pastoral ministry cuts through any illusions we may have about our self-sufficiency. “Who is sufficient for these things?” he asks (2:16). The implied answer is clear: no one. This reality should both humble every prospective minister and encourage him. The grace that has qualified us to stand before God’s judgment seat is the same grace that qualifies us for ministry. Paul’s confidence wasn’t rooted in his oratorical ability, his way with people, or his education, but in Christ’s provision. This provision comes through various means. Paul mentions the comfort of friends and colleagues. Even apostles needed encouragement from God’s people. When Paul couldn’t find Titus in Troas, he “had no peace of mind” (2:13, NIV) and left despite an open door for ministry. No minister can function without such encouragement from God’s people, and when a pastor lacks it, his ministry inevitably suffers. God also provides through weakness. Paul describes being led in Christ’s triumphal procession as one who was first conquered by Christ on the road to Damascus and then made into a conqueror. The imagery is striking: Unlike Roman captives who were haggard and abused, those led in Christ’s train are free, joyful, and attractive. There is, however, a hiddenness to this at times. Even if we’re suffering outwardly, God promises to renew us day by day (4:16). Proper Gospel Perspective What are ministers made competent to do? Paul is clear: to minister the grace of God’s new covenant. Ministers aren’t competent to browbeat, threaten, or fix. After all, we’re sinners ourselves. Instead, God makes us competent to minister the gospel that gives new life and the obedience of faith. Young men considering pastoral ministry must cultivate this proper perspective. You must think as highly of the new-covenant office as God does, while trusting completely in the Savior to enable your faithful service. The world increasingly disdains those who take their callings seriously, and the American church too often measures ministerial success by numbers, programs, and budgets rather than by biblical faithfulness. But while other vocations are equally ordained by God, none has been designed to further his kingdom and affect eternity like gospel ministry. No vocation has been designed to further God’s kingdom and affect eternity like gospel ministry. This call to pastoral ministry remains one of the highest privileges available to any man. Despite the challenges and criticisms, despite the temptation to measure success by worldly standards, the essential nature of this call hasn’t changed. It remains a divine mission with eternal consequences, carried out by weak but grace-enabled men who serve as ambassadors of the most important message in human history. If you’re sensing God’s call, embrace both the dignity of the office and your dependence on Christ. The kingdom desperately needs faithful men who will.

How can I find rest when work-at-home mode tends to imply that work never really stops? When I was on paternity leave after my second child was born, I developed a strange habit of wandering into my home office and sitting in my desk chair. Not because I had work to do or a deadline loomed. I went there purely by reflex. I’d sit at my desk while holding my newborn and think, Why am I here? The grooves of my life had trained me to drift into work without purposely choosing to do so. Simply being at home wasn’t enough to stop me from sliding back into “work mode.” In the work-from-home world—and for many pastors, stay-at-home parents, or caretakers—this experience isn’t unusual. Even if our devices are silent, our minds keep humming. Our closed laptops sit on the table and whisper, “Just one quick thing . . .” So how do you rest when work never really stops? Why Work Is Sticky One reason rest feels so elusive today is that work has become sticky. Work clings. It seeps into the cracks between the activities we actually should be doing. Working from home makes this painfully obvious. With no commute to create a natural boundary, you can walk past your desk on a Saturday and suddenly find yourself checking an email “just to make sure.” Or you check the weather forecast—and 45 minutes later you emerge from a completely unrelated rabbit hole, wondering what happened. (If the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years, how long do modern humans wander the internet?) There’s a parenting version of this too. Toddlers don’t respect nine-to-five. You sit down to rest, and your baby cries or your 3-year-old announces it’s time for an unscheduled urban-planning project involving blocks, snacks, and the family dog. Stay-at-home parents often carry heavier and more relentless work than the rest of us—and it follows them everywhere, including to the shower. Then there’s the caretaker or ministry version. As a church elder, I’ve felt this deeply. You can meet for hours about a painful situation, but when you get home, the problem hasn’t magically resolved. If someone’s spouse is having an affair, the affair doesn’t end with the workday, nor does it end for the weekend. You can stop working, but the work doesn’t end. Caregivers know that needs don’t clock out. The work is bigger than you, and it doesn’t stop. The real issue for many of us is that our work never stops, even if we do. Deliberate Rest as a Countercultural Groove This is exactly where intentional rest speaks the loudest. God calls us to rest as a reminder that we’re no longer slaves. And that means we rest not when our work is done—it might never be—but because we know that work doesn’t own us. We relinquish the idea that only our effort will get the work done. There is, as Tim Keller describes, a “work beneath the work,” a need to define ourselves and make an identity, and rest involves a faithful releasing and letting God do that work. Resting isn’t just a command—it’s an act of trust. Just as Israel had to stop gathering manna on the seventh day, we stop our gathering too. Not because everything is finished but because God keeps working even when we don’t. Rest from work is a declaration that God, not us, is ultimately responsible for the work getting done. Whatever work we do is God working through us. We rest not when our work is done—it might never be—but because we know that work doesn’t own us. This rest is grounded in what God is doing now and what he’s promised to do fully. One day, Jesus will set everything right—every injustice corrected, every wound healed, every unfinished work brought to completion. That future certainty frees us to rest in the present. We don’t have to finish everything now, because Christ will finish everything then. Practical Ways to Create Patterns of Rest Rest doesn’t happen by accident. We can choose patterns to enable it. 1. Create a buffer between work and rest. Make your workspace less of a magnet by marking the transition between “working” and “being home.” If your office is a place you drift into unconsciously, rearrange it. Close the laptop. Shut the door. Put a plant in the chair. Do something to break the automatic habit. Teachers erase the board at the end of the day; parents put toys in baskets before bedtime. Your work needs a basket too. When you finish work, take a short walk around the block. Change clothes at the end of the day—even if it’s Sweatpants #1 swapped for Sweatpants #2. Designate one chair in the house as “no-work territory.” Small cues help your brain shift lanes. 2. Be intentional with your home time. Make plans for a Friday night evening out or a Saturday morning run. Choose a book to read, a recipe to try, or a project to complete. When we’re aimless or bored, it’s easy to think, I might as well check my work email. When we have a purpose, we’re much more likely to stay on track. 3. Embrace role boundaries. For pastors, parents, and caregivers, your work is heavier and more emotionally charged. You may never be “fully off.” But even you can have rhythms: a nightly prayer of release, a morning prayer of rereceiving, a day each week where you intentionally do no active ministry response. You’re not neglecting people—you’re trusting God with them. Rest Because God Works The truth is, the problems you paused tonight may greet you again in the morning. But taking a break is about remembering that the world isn’t upheld by your effort. Maybe the most surprising thing about rest is this: The work doesn’t fall apart when you take your hands off it. Sometimes the unanswered email solves itself. Sometimes the crisis de-escalates without your intervention. Sometimes the task that seemed urgent on Saturday isn’t even relevant by Monday. You’re not neglecting people—you’re trusting God with them. The surprising way problems untangle while we rest isn’t a sign that we were slacking. It’s a sign of grace, a quiet reminder that God is at work even when we’re not. Work will always be sticky, but God’s faithfulness is stickier still. When we stop—truly stop—we discover that the whole time we were trying to carry everything, someone else already was. And the stickiest part of all is the hope of where the story is heading. Because one day Jesus will make all things new, we can stop trying to make all things right today. And pausing regularly in our work is a rehearsal for that coming rest.

What is true of Christ becomes true of us. Matt Smethurst and Ligon Duncan are joined by Sam Allberry to discuss his book One with My Lord: The Life-Changing Reality of Being in Christ and explore how pastors can recover the often overlooked doctrine of union with Christ and share it with their congregations. Resources Mentioned: One with My Lord by Sam Allberry By Faith, Not by Sight by Richard Gaffin

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A new study of the remains of a 15-year-old boy buried with luxurious grave goods in the Arena Candide Cave in Liguria, northwestern Italy, 27,000 years ago has found evidence that he was mauled to death by a bear. This is some of the first physical evidence of a violent interaction between prehistoric humans and megafauna, and the only one that is an articulated skeleton in a grave rather than a small bone fragment. The grave was first discovered in 1942. The body of an adolescent male was placed supine on a bed of red ochre with a lump of yellow ochre below the jaw. The most ornate artifact found in the grave was the boy’s headdress made of hundreds of perforated shells and several deer canines. His grave also contained ivory pendants, four antler bâtons percés (spear-throwers) and a large flint blade held in his right hand. He was dubbed “Il Principe” (the Prince) because of this remarkable funerary assemblage. It is one of the most richly adorned graves of the Gravettian culture ever found in Italy. Severe trauma to the skeleton was immediately evident to the archaeologists who unearthed it. The left scapula, left humerus, the left clavicle and left mandible had missing or damaged parts. The damage was so severe there was a hole between the neck, left shoulder and mandible. The yellow ochre lump placed there was likely connected to the wound, either to cover the disfiguring injury or as a ritual healing or restoration of wholeness. From the start, the prevailing hypothesis was that the youth had been attacked by a wild animal during a hunt gone wrong. No comprehensive studies of the bones and injuries has been done, however, and when the skeleton was reassembled for display at the Ligurian Archaeological Museum after World War II, it was patched with resins and glues that obscured some of the fractures. A team of researchers obtained authorization from the museum to remove the bones for thorough analysis with modern technology. In addition to the known fractured and missing bones, the team found perimortem bite marks and a linear mark on the skull consistent with a claw swipe, that could not be explained by other potentially fatal scenarios (a fall from a great height, violence inflicted by another human). Given the large carnivores that were found in the region during the Late Pleistocene, the likeliest candidates for the perpetrator are a brown bear or a cave bear. The researchers concluded that lesions on the boy’s skull and ankle were bite and claw marks, likely from a cave or brown bear, based on their patterns. “He was probably a budding hunter still learning his skills when this happened,” says lead study author Vitale Stefano Sparacello, a biological anthropologist at the University of Cagliari in Italy. The animal dislodged the boy’s mandible, left a groove in his skull, broke his clavicle and left a bite mark on his right ankle. Even the boy’s left pinky toe had been fractured. Though we don’t know for sure, Sparacello contends that the injuries are indicative of a bear who would have viewed the boy as more of a menace that needed to be neutralized than a meal because these bears mostly ate plants. Microscopic examination found evidence of a small amount of bone healing. This means the poor youth lived for a few days, no more than three, after he was absolutely savaged by the animal. That means despite having face and shoulder torn up and his foot bitten, the prince’s major blood vessels remained intact or he would have bled to death right away. He must have been saved by his companions and brought to safety. The study had been published in the Journal of Anthropological Sciences and can be read here (pdf).