As a kid I used to think Paul was the most arrogant guy in the world.
Sure, he had the “chief of sinners” line, but anybody can feign humility from time to time. “Imitate me as I imitate Christ,” though? Who says that? How highly do you have to think of yourself to tell people “I’m doing a pretty good Jesus impression, you should follow me.”
I always knew deep down the problem had to be with me and not the inspired apostle, but the phrase still bugged me. Some explained it as a conditional statement, as if to say “In the ways you see me following Christ, do the same.”
I don’t think that quite captures it, though. I think Paul was literally telling people to look to him as an example.
After all, isn’t that what leadership is? The very term “leader” implies that others will follow. And if you’re going to take on a role in which others should follow you, you had better be able to say that following in your footsteps will get you where you need to go.
In our time when elected officials frame our understanding of what a leader is, our sensibilities are offended at decisiveness and confidence. Like young me reading Paul, we mistake such qualities as arrogance when we see them.
We think our leaders are being noble when they demur and say “don’t follow me.” But if you’re going to take the job, you better be ready for the description. Hebrews 13:7 confirms this.
This is why I believe we need a return of what I’m calling Christian elites.
It’s not a matter of I’m-better-than-you snobbery. It’s a matter of demanding our elders and preachers be the kind of men who can accurately tell people “Imitate me as I imitate Christ.”
So, what practical changes would this require?
To answer this fully would make this article far too lengthy, so we’ll push some of the answer to next week. First and foremost though, it means this:
We have to put the bar back up high where it belongs
We get nervous at the talk of Christian “elites” because of the potential for spiritual abuse, and that’s very real. It does happen. But why are we more worried about that than we are about spiritual abuse at the hands of those who won’t lead due to a sense of crowd-pleasing false humility? A wolf and a shepherd who won’t fight off a wolf are different problems with similar results.
Yet we continue to guard the wrong flank. Right now we have far more problems stemming from a lack of strong leadership than we do from the misuse of strong leadership. C.S. Lewis’ fire brigade is at it again.
This idea of eliteness is not that they should walk around puffed up with pride because they think they’re better than everybody else. Like the general, the president, the team captain, or any other leader, they bear the weight of everybody looking to them. The greatest will be the servants, as our Savior said (Matthew 23:11).
It’s a responsibility they should take on solemnly and humbly, realizing they are where they are only by the grace of God while developing the capability of leading others in His path.
That’s why the bar was set so high for any who would take on this role of leading God’s people.
Look at the qualifications for elders again (1 Timothy 3, Titus 1). Notice how Paul tells Timothy to be cautious about whom he commissions because he’ll share the responsibility if they aren’t up to the task (1 Tim. 5:22). That’s the whole point of such verses - these men are to be the best of the best, noticeably standing out.
It’s okay to expect such a clear separation from them—an eliteness, if you will—and that means it’s also okay to acknowledge eliteness when we see it. We should give thanks for such men who rise to the occasion.
Instead we often water down the qualifications as much as possible to fill the office and then have no respect for the unqualified men who are in there. For example, look how often “having believing children” and “manager of his household, keeping his children under control” get twisted into essentially meaning nothing.
Consider how many of the others get glossed over in passing, like hospitable, able to teach, able to exhort and refute, above reproach. Again, these qualifications show this role is only reserved to an elite few, and they should be treated as such. (See also 1 Peter 5:2-4.)
Because of this high calling, we’re told their successes should be lauded, and their downfalls should be handled as public cautionary tales (1 Timothy 5:17-19). This realization would hinder us from the widespread disrespect I wrote on previously. Realizing how difficult the role is, we would all be more cautious in speaking against them or throwing off their authority.
Similar qualifications are given for those who would preach. Time does not allow us to explore all of it, but 1 Timothy 4:12 and James 3:1 are good starting points. Any who would stand before God’s people as His messenger must know what they’re saying and have a life that backs it up.
But what about…
Should someone counter, “I suppose you consider yourself one of these elites,” I would answer quite plainly, no. This is one of the primary reasons I left the pulpit last year.
I have no doubt that I have the gift of teaching, which I intend to continue to use to serve the church as God sees fit through occasional speaking and writing, but I am not someone who has reached the level of spiritual maturity to tell anyone “Follow me as I follow Christ.”
These high standards I’m pointing to should have ruled out people like me as much as anybody. We have to rethink everything about how we are stocking our ministry positions and our elderships.
That starts with realizing what a high bar the Scriptures set for such men. Then, we call them to rise to the challenge and support them in their efforts. And, we refuse to lower the bar for anybody just to fill a seat.
We have to get out of the habit of appointing the “best men available,” of appointing who we like, of appointing people based on talent or popularity rather than character, or of appointing the default candidates appointed through longevity or lack of other options.
But, one might say, if we started applying these standards stringently then a lot of congregations may be without elders for the foreseeable future. A lot of pulpits might sit empty. That’s true. But why is an unqualified eldership better than no eldership? Why are unfit preachers an improvement over no preachers?
And how will we encourage future generations to strive for this high bar of leadership if we remove the bar altogether?
As I’ve written before, there are no short term solutions to the crisis in which we find ourselves. Training up a strong, dedicated, holy group of men and the women who will stand beside them is a decades-long effort. Any attempted shortcuts will only delay the inevitable and keep us stuck in the status quo.
To be continued…
Next week we’ll dig further into the practical side of what this means for those who would lead and those who would follow. Be sure to subscribe to receive the article by email when it’s released.
I've started preaching through the Beatitudes once a month, and the idea about not lowering the bar was one of the first things we discussed.
Some people appoint Elders who are "not quite ready" but with the hope they will "grow into it". Bad idea. You are right, it's a high bar. The remedy to the problem is to work with young men and ever challenge them to grow. Teach them to have a goal where they want to be in 20 years.