Peter SmytheA Different Kind of Word Preacher

Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all men. For I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole purpose of God. Be on guard for yourselves and for the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He purchased with His own blood. (Acts 20.26-27, NASB) (emphasis supplied)

As I’ve routinely taken my place in the back pews and have routinely heard from my pastors, “pray for us that God would help us with yada, yada yada,” I’ve wondered about the ins and outs of pastoral responsibility. Frankly, it’s been a rare occasion where I have actually felt as if my pastor was there for me. Most of the time it is the other way around. I leave the church with the idea that I’m a cog in the pastor’s ministry machinery. It’s my God-given responsibility to help him fulfill his calling, whatever that may be (usually it’s some kind of outlandish building program to “grow” the church).

As I’ve written in past posts, my younger brother committed suicide when he was in his mid-twenties. He was born-again as a teenager and was filled with the Spirit soon after that. He attended church pretty regularly, for a teenager, and he spent a lot of his weekends hanging out at a Young Life house. He actually was a great kid. Later he transferred to a Christian High School and that’s when he began having problems. The school’s teachers were big into “spiritual coverings” and “authority” and my kid brother rebelled against that (rightly so). The rebellion caused him to slip in the faith and he got into all bad kinds of things before he died.

Though my brother was one of the stalwarts in the youth group at church, I don’t ever recall the pastor ever talking to him one-on-one. When he began experiencing his problems in high school, I don’t ever recall any pastoral telephone calls. When he began getting into heavy metal music with adult advisory labels on the cover, there was no pastoral knock on our door. If my pastor ever asked me about my brother as he grew his hair out, dyed it black, wore his black duster and leather boots, and drove his wickedly black Trans Am with its blaring music around our small town, I sure don’t remember it. As my brother dabbled in incense, useless girls, and “white” magic, I don’t think that my pastor would have even remembered his name or the last time he had ever seen him.

While I could say much about the modern idea of the sheep helping pastors “do what God’s called them to do,” I think Clement’s account of John the Apostle speaks volumes. While reading, pay particular attention to the gravity of John’s own spiritual responsibilities to Christ concerning this boy.

Listen to a story that is not a story but a true account of John the apostle preserved in memory. After the tyrant’s death, he returned from the island of Patmos to Ephesus and used to go, when asked, to the neighboring Gentile districts to appoint bishops, reconcile churches, or ordain someone designated by the Spirit. Arriving at a city near by [Smyrna], he settled disputes among the brethren and then, noticing a spirited youth of superior physique and handsome appearance, commended him to the appointed bishop with the words, “I leave this young man in your keeping, with Christ as my witness.”

When John returned to Ephesus, the churchman brought home the youth entrusted to his care, raised him, and finally baptized him. After this he relaxed his oversight, having put the seal of the Lord on him as the perfect safeguard. But some idle and dissolute youths corrupted him with lavish entertainment and then took him with them when they went out at night to commit robbery or worse crimes. Soon he joined them and, like a stallion with a bit in mouth, he dashed off the straight road and down the precipice. Renouncing God’s salvation, he went from petty offenses to major crimes and formed the young renegades into a gang of bandits with himself as chief, surpassing them all in violence and bloody cruelty.

Time passed, and John paid another visit. When he had finished his mission, John said, “Come now, Bishop, return the deposit that Christ and I left in your keeping with the church as witness.” At first the bishop was dumbfounded, thinking that he was being dunned for funds he had never received. But John said, “I am asking for the young man and his soul.”

“He is dead,” groaned the old man, in tears.

“How did he die?”

“He is dead to God. He turned out vile and debauched: an outlaw. Now he is in the mountains, not the church, with an armed gang of men like himself.”

The apostle tore his clothing, beat his head, and groaned, “A fine guardian I left for our brother’s soul! But get me a horse and someone to show me the way.” He rode off from the church, just as he was. When he arrived at the hideout and was seized by the outlaws’ sentries, he shouted, “This is what I have come for: take me to your leader!” When John approached and the young leader recognized him, he turned and fled in shame. But John ran after him as hard as he could, forgetting his age, and calling out, “Why are you running away from me, child - from your own father, unarmed and old? Pity me, child, don’t fear me! I will give account to Christ for you and, if necessary, gladly suffer death and give my life for yours as the Lord suffered death for us. Stop! Believe! Christ sent me.”

The young man stopped, stared at the ground, threw down his weapons, and wept bitterly. Flinging his arms around the old man, he begged forgiveness, baptized a second time with his own tears but keeping his right hand hidden (as unworthy of forgiveness for all the bloodshed it had caused). John, however, assured hi that he had found forgiveness for him from the Saviour. He prayed, knelt down, and kissed that right hand as being cleansed through repentance. Then he led him back and did not leave him until - through prayer, fasting, and instruction - he had restored him to the church: a great example of true repentance and regeneration, the trophy of a visible resurrection. (Paul Maiar, ed., Eusebius, The Church History (Kregel Publications) at 111-12).

[Note: Clement was bishop of Rome from A.D. 88 to A.D. 97 and was a disciple of the apostles.]