If You Want Ministry to Last, Give It Away

photo-1528693404014-b13ebe6e723eI was a youth pastor at the time. And we were growing. Teens were coming to know Jesus almost every week it seemed. Another church in the area asked me to come to help them vision what youth ministry could look like in their context. I was honored to do this and centered my talk around one big principle:

The success of our youth ministry will not be determined by the number of students we have today. It will be determined 10-15 years from now. Are these kids still serving the Lord? Are they reproducing the gospel in their new families, friends, and context? Are they still in church?

I still believe that. But it causes me a bit of consternation when I try to assess John Newton’s ministry at Olney. Was his ministry a success by the metric I used? This is what the pastor who followed Newton said about the church shortly after Newton had left (or even as he was leaving):

When Mr. Newton left…[Olney] swarmed with antinomians; and, when I about a year after became curate of the parish, most of the professors of the gospel joined the dissenters; and I had to attempt raising a new congregation, in opposition to the antinomianism and antichurchism…which prevailed.

The church at Olney went from 2500 down to a paltry number (some estimations have it at 100). What happened?

It should be noted that leaving the Anglican Church does not equate to apostasy. Many of these “dissenters” likely found other evangelical churches within the area. And we do not know for certain what Scott means by antinomianism. But there was a significant shift that happened among Newton’s people. As he was leaving he referred to difficult circumstances that had come upon his ministry.

Thankfully, I’m not called upon to judge the ministry of another. And in the case of Newton it would be difficult because his “ministry” might have included the way in which he was strengthening the gospel foundations of the other congregations within his area. It’s possible that some of those “dissenters” were actually continuing to faithfully apply what Newton taught them. Perhaps, they were being even more consistent than Newton himself to evangelical principles. But clearly something happened where the disciples of Newton were taking a different path.

There was a discussion between William Bull, Thomas Scott (the man who followed Newton), and William Cowper on these matters. Bull believed that familiarity had bred contempt among the people. Newton was too much among them, said Bull:

How often do you speak to [your people] in a week?—“Thrice”—Ay, there it is! Your sermons are an old ballad; your prayers are an old ballad; and you are an old ballad too.—“I would wish to tread in the steps of Mr. N.—You do well to follow his steps in other instances; but in this instance you are wrong, and so was he. Mr. N trod a path which no man but himself could have used so long as he did, and he wore it out long before he went from Olney. Too much familiarity and condescension cost him the estimation of his people. (cited from Demaray, 149)

I don’t necessarily agree with Bull’s assessment that Newton spent too much time with his people. But I do think there is something to be said for Newton’s having trod a path which only he could have walked. It was his personality which often kept the attention of his people. It was his own love for them which bound them to the man. And what seems to have happened, at least with some, is that they were more bound to the man than to the message. This is always a great danger with someone of such a dynamic personality as Newton.

What do we learn from this?

I think this story is connected to another story from the latter part of Newton’s life. Towards the end of his life he was mostly blind, his mind wasn’t nearly as sharp, but he kept wanting to preach. He said, “I cannot stop.  What! Shall the old African blasphemer stop while he can speak?”

But he should have stopped. And the fact that he couldn’t is probably why the fruit of his Olney ministry was not as healthy or far-reaching as it could have been. Don’t hear me wrong, I am still benefiting from one element of his ministry while at Olney a few hundred years later. But I think there was a significant pastoral misstep for Newton here and it likely impacted the flesh and blood and soil of Olney.

I think Zack Eswine is correct when he notes that,

“If we want to use our gifts, we are required to take a step. But in whatever direction we place our foot, we necessarily leave every other direction empty for the footsteps of another.”

And I think Andy Crouch is correct when he considers the purpose of the “sabbath ladder” that God had given the people of Israel:

…the discipline the Lord required of Israel was not to do everything within their power, not to push their own productivity to the limit—to intentionally leave margins that made room for others to participate in the economy of the community…the more territory expands, the more we must embrace the disciplines that make room on the margins for others to also exercise their calling to image bearing. (Crouch, 248)

Newton wasn’t the best at doing this. He held the view, and perhaps rightly so, that the African blasphemer needed to be completely spent for the glory of God. But what he did not factor in was that the African blasphemer should have been making room for others who had been transformed by Jesus. He wasn’t vital to the cause of Christ. None of us are. I think Newton understood this. Everything in his writing indicates that he was a man who longed for humility and to put to death Mr. Self. But it’s clear that this was a struggle for him within ministry. And it cost him a bit.

If we want our ministries to last then we need to be sure that we leave margins for others to exercise their gifts and calling. We shouldn’t allow our light to shine so brightly. One of my goals is that when people think of Calvary of Neosho they don’t think of me first—or even that much at all. I want them to think of many of our people. “That is Mr. Newton’s church” was not a healthy thing. And whenever the church in which we labor becomes “our” church—then we’re harming the soil instead of cultivating it.

Photo source: here