Extremely Helpful Thoughts on Whether or Not You Should Do a PhD as a Christian

Following a link from Justin Taylor, I found this blog post by Regent's John Stackhouse extremely helpful in evaluating the often confounding question of whether one should do a PhD. The article targets evangelical students who are (primarily) considering a PhD as preparation for academic ministry, but it is so broad and trenchant that it will be of great help to young Christians considering the PhD as a means of preparation for ecclesial ministry.

I will be blogging on this in the future, when my thoughts are more developed on the subject, but right now, let me quote a section of the piece that will be of particular interest to consumed readers (all should read this, including pastors, so that even if one is not personally considering this matter, one can give good counsel on it):

• "Do I feel I have gifts in scholarship and teaching? Do I feel inwardly moved by the Holy Spirit to pursue the Ph.D. as part of a calling to study and teach? How do I know this is the Holy Spirit?

• How has this calling been confirmed by others and by experience? What does my Christian community think? Would this decision have the enthusiastic endorsement of those closest to me, who know me best?

• How might I serve the Church and the Kingdom of God better with a Ph.D. than without one?

• The Ph.D. is the requirement for most postsecondary teaching positions, but have I considered whether God has gifted and called to teach and research in some other sphere? Have I fully explored my motives, and am I satisfied that I am not interested in a Ph.D. simply to prove something to somebody or to myself, to flee some other situation, or for other unsound reasons? None of our motives is ever entirely pure or unmixed with other motives, but how deep is my self-knowledge about my desire to do a Ph.D.?"

This is tremendously good fruit for thought. Again, read the whole piece, particularly if you are mulling this question over in your mind. I'm encouraged to see a theologian like Stackhouse (and historical theologian Sean Lucas) tackling in a meaningful, practical way hard questions like this which confront students in a highly professionalized (meant in a neutral way) era.

I'll close with this (which I have said before): we need more scholarly pastors. This is the model of ministry that I'm really focused on in my life, and I hope to see many more catch the same vision and invest their time and energy in excellent, thorough, mentally stimulating preparation for ministry such that God's pastors would lead their churches not simply with evangelistic zeal, personal warmth, and administrative wisdom, but exceptional intellectual ability sufficient to function in the truest sense as theologian-pastors leading people into the glories of biblical teaching.

Jonathan Edwards on the Pastor's Chief Responsibility

The following is from a paper I just wrote on the subject.

Edwards's “Farewell Sermon”, delivered in June 1750 on 2 Corinthians 1:14, presents Edwards’s most extended treatment of the theology of Christian ministry, specifically, the theology of the pastorate. The following quotation captures nicely Edwards’s view of his call.

Ministers are set as guides and teachers, and are represented in Scripture as lights set up in the churches; and in the present state meet their people from time to time in order to instruct and enlighten them, to correct their mistakes, and to be a voice behind them, saying, “This is the way, walk in it” [Is. 30:21]; to evince and confirm the truth by exhibiting the proper evidences of it, and to refute errors and corrupt opinions, to convince the erroneous and establish the doubting.[1]

For all of Edwards’s abilities and proclivities, these words are immensely instructive to the one seeking an abbreviated conception of Edwards’s understanding of his life’s work. A minister is a “light” who leads his people on the narrow path of textual faithfulness. Pastors are both “guides” and “teachers.” Though Edwards’s capacities for preaching and theological instruction are so often bifurcated, in his own mind they were united.[2] The master pastor-theologian saw the Word as calling him to be just that: a pastor-theologian, one called to feed his people truth and to keep them from ingesting theological teaching that would poison and corrupt them.
This life-passion did not produce a thinly moralistic, intellectually simplistic body of work. No, Edwards’s sermons show that his quest to defend truth and refute error resulted in doctrinal and exegetical theology of the richest kind. Theology was not incidental to the life of the local church—it was central. Without a meaty, steady diet of it, the saints would suffer. The road to heaven would grow dark, and the people would wander off, Satan and a thousand dark angels waiting for them. But with it—with preaching of the stoutest kind, the stuff smacking of God, His character, His work, His dealings with men and all creation—the light would shine, and the people would live.
For Edwards, being a pastor-theologian was not a matter of choice, a pastoral flavor neatly tailored to his intellect and gifts. For Edwards, to be a pastor was only to be a pastor-theologian, one who devoted the full strength of his energy and ability to train his people in the way of truth. Though in the future these dual callings would split off from one another, in Edwards and his predecessors they were necessarily and beneficially joined.

---

[1] Jonathan Edwards, “Farewell Sermon” in Kimnach, Sermons of Jonathan Edwards, 217.

[2] Edwards offered equally helpful meditations on the pastorate in his “Notes on Scripture”: “When men read the Holy Scripture, they there may see Christ’s glory, as men see images of things by looking in a glass; so we see Christ’s glory in ordinances. Ministers are burning and shining lights, but then they don’t shine by their own light, but only reflect the light of Christ.” Jonathan Edwards, Notes on Scripture, ed. Stephen Stein, The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 15 (New Haven: Yale, 1998), 320.

What We Know About Self-Control, and What This Means for Students Who Check Their Facebook Page in Class

A couple of neuroscientists published an article in the New York Times today on the biology and effect of willpower. The article, "Tighten Your Belt, Strengthen Your Mind", by Sandra Aamodt and Sam Wang, gives scientific verification to a principle your grandmother has been trying to teach you for years: self-control is good for you. This piece dovetails interestingly with another feature by Slate writer Laura Moser, "Footloose and Sugar-Free", in which the authors discusses her discovery that eating little sugar helped her complexion, waistline, and life.

A good quotation from the NYT piece:

"No one knows why willpower can grow with practice but it must reflect some biological change in the brain. Perhaps neurons in the frontal cortex, which is responsible for planning behavior, or in the anterior cingulate cortex, which is associated with cognitive control, use blood sugar more efficiently after repeated challenges. Or maybe one of the chemical messengers that neurons use to communicate with one another is produced in larger quantities after it has been used up repeatedly, thereby improving the brain’s willpower capacity.

Whatever the explanation, consistently doing any activity that requires self-control seems to increase willpower — and the ability to resist impulses and delay gratification is highly associated with success in life."

These articles, published on major news outlets, show us that self-control is a powerful and verifiable force. They also demonstrate that our permissive society is willing to question itself, to wonder whether it truly is best to abide by the popular creed, "If it makes you happy, do it." This maxim, celebrated in countless films, novels, and tv shows of the current era, doesn't actually hold up all that well in the real world. It plays nicely in movies, of course, where no one gets zits, gets fat, or gets dumped (for long). It plays equally well in the hands of skilled novelists, who know that one of the best ways to sell a novel is to create a paradise world that taps into their audience's desire to find lasting satisfaction in their pursuits and desires. But as I've said--it doesn't play well in the real world. This isn't to say that self-gratification and the pursuit of pleasure is not fun. It is, at least for a time. It's fun to eat what you want and travel wherever you want to go and to have killer experiences that you tell stories about to your friends. Who doesn't enjoy that sort of thing? The problem is, these things, which now constitute life for a good many folks, used to group themselves under the common heading vacation. It's as if we all want to be on vacation all the time, incongruous a mindset as this may be with actual life.

Real life, after all, does consist in having the essentials of life and, beyond this, in having a good quality of life. It may be fun to pursue lots of wild trips to wherever, but at some point you have to come home, and if you're not making any money, then home probably equates to an uncomfortable futon backed up against your roommate's noxious hamper. It may be fun to eat and drink whatever you want, backing yourself up by some vaguely epicurean pronouncement, but you end up inconveniently overweight and, in the long term, in much greater risk of disease and early death. This issue has at its peak spiritual implications. Paul tells us in Titus that the grace of God appeared for nothing less than to cause us to be self-controlled. In a culture that exalts freedom and a relatively unrestrained life, this is an important point to underscore. We're not being prudish or octogenarian in prizing self-control; we're not being silly, or legalistic, or killjoys. No, we're being wise, and godly, and happily biblical.

What on earth does all this have to do with Facebook? Well, part of self-control in one's first twentysomething years of life (depending on how much education one gets, and that should and will vary wildly) involves discipline for the purpose of education. This means that one goes to school (or some form of it). While in school, one is to learn in a self-controlled way. Part of learning in a self-controlled way is to focus on the task at hand and not be distracted. An important component of not being distracted in the current day is to not log onto Facebook, Gmail, ESPN, Between Two Worlds, or whatever other site you and I might personally enjoy. Now, before I be seen as portraying myself in a perfect light, let me say that I am not. There were occasionally times that my attention drifted in class and I did something that was not focused on the task at hand. I freely admit this. However, I can also say that I did concentrate hard on the lecture or subject in the vast majority of my classes. I found J-terms and night classes to be a bit challenging in this regard, but outside of those, I worked hard to concentrate on what my instructor was saying.

I sat and sit in seminary classes where the mysteries of the gospel and Christian thought are unfolded, and I frequently observe and observed numerous students at any given moment playing games, checking websites, IMing friends. I can't heap condemnation on these students, but I can say that I think that their behavior (and mine, occasionally) does not demonstrate a high level of self-control, discipline, and focus on the incredible privilege of Christian education. No wonder most of us can recollect theological discussions and solutions with only the vaguest of terms. While our teacher was laying out the complex theology of Freedom of the Will, we were checking the latest Celtics score. While we should have been learning how to answer objections to the doctrine of God's sovereignty, we were sending a pointless email to our buddy (one we could so easily have sent an hour later). In these and many other instances, our lack of self-control and discipline not only robs us of temporary learning, but of long-term formation and, of course, character.

In writing all this, then, I'm not trying to portray myself as perfect in this regard. I'm not. I could have done better in this area, looking back. But I can also say that for much of my education, I did concentrate in class. It's one thing, after all, to briefly tune out in a class. Most of us will do that, and if that involves checking email, that may not be best, but it's not horrendous, either. But when we're constantly checking sites and writing emails, we have to wonder about our character and the seriousness with which we take the task of education--and if we're training for the ministry, the task of formation for the deadly serious business of gospel ministry.

Self-control is clearly not a moment-by-moment matter. You can't be undisciplined one moment and disciplined the next. In making choices of diet, lifestyle, and even classroom focus, we're not shuffling the unimportant--we're building a life, a ministry, a character.

One Thing Jeremiah Wright Has Right: The Pastor Is a Theologian (and the Theologian Is a Pastor)

There's been much to-do about Barack Obama's pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright. I came across a helpful collection of resources from NPR on the theological stream in which Wright fits, the black liberationist theologians and preachers. If you have a few moments, take a listen. NPR, of course, slants strongly left, but they're well-researched.

Beyond that, I don't have much to say personally about Rev. Wright that has not been said. (Russ Moore, for example, has some helpful thoughts on this subject.) It's not really my bag to write about what other people who share my general perspective have written. With that said, there is one aspect of this whole controversy that I haven't heard much discussion about. It is clear that Rev. Wright styles himself as the thought-leader of his church. He does not seem to adhere to the "CEO" model of ministry or something like that, at least not in his pulpiteering. No, he's almost old-fashioned in that he clearly attempts to teach his people a theological system (that of black liberation theology). It so happens that I think that this system veers well off the scriptural course, and that is hugely lamentable, but I do admire one (and only one) aspect of Wright's program: he does not shirk back from arbiting theology and doctrine to his people. He is clearly the theological gate-keeper of his church. He is unquestionably the doctrinaire of his congregation. He jealously guards the right to provide spiritual direction to his people. In this light, Rev. Wright fits comfortably in the historic stream of theologian-pastors, a line that is slowly reviving after being crushed by the heel of pragmatic, anti-doctrinal ministry methodology.

Do not be confused. I am in no way endorsing Rev. Wright. I simply found it fascinating to find a man, albeit a man I view as tragically misled and confused, claiming unapologetically the role of pastor-prophet in an age dominated by "visionaries", "CEOs", and "professionals". This is not to say that there are not others who fill this role. In recent decades, we have seen something of a renaissance of the theologian-pastor in evangelical circles, with men like John Piper, Phil Ryken, Mark Dever, John Stott filling pulpits across the world. Each of these men could easily be an academician, but they have all chosen the pastorate as their primary role. There are many others who fit this same bill who are currently pastoring, and there are many, many more--a whole movement's worth--who are currently in training and who will, I would predict, fundamentally change the face of the American pastorate in coming years. Many Christians of my generation has rebelled against a vacuous, doctrinally wispy life and have instead embraced a robust, meaty way of thinking and living as redeemed people. A sizeable corps of young men have committed themselves to years of academic and ecclesiastical training in order to serve churches as theologian-pastors. These are exciting, heady times, and they signal, I believe, a coming shift for the American church--and, one can hope, for the global church.

Okay, okay, you may be saying. Great. But what's with all this confusing language--"pastor-theologian" versus "theologian-pastor"? And furthermore, Owen, why have you reversed these terms? Because of this: I think we might be misusing the term "pastor-theologian". This term should properly refer not to a person who is first and foremost a pastor, but a theologian. "Pastor" in such a phrase is modifying "theologian", after all. Therefore, those of us who want to be pastors should call ourselves, most properly, "theologian-pastors", because there the modifying word is "theologian". Does this make sense?

But with this minor squibble aside, let me say something that I've been thinking a bit about. Just as we need "theologian-pastors" (by which I'm referring to theologically astute pastors), so also are we in great need of "pastor-theologians" (by which I'm referring to academic scholars who bring pastoral concerns to bear on their work). There is a gigantic need for exegetes, historians, theologians, systematicians, and philosophers who see their work as done, generally speaking, in service of the church. Perhaps you've encountered scholars who don't seem to practice such a philosophy of scholarship, but who do theology in such a way that they talk in abstracted terminology, chase rabbits (for multiple books or classes) that have little relevance to an actual person, and generally show evidence of forgetting that their ministry is accountable to their local church and responsible for equipping pastors and laypeople. Such a class of thinker, it is hoped, is on the wane in Christian circles, even as the ecclesiastically attuned class of theologian is on the rise.

These scholars do not study, publish, and teach to pursue their own eccentric interests and doctrines, but to assist Christians in the task of understanding the Bible and its teachings as they apply to life and ministry. For this class of thinkers, church members are not a burden, but an audience; questions of all theological stripes are tackled not simply to satisfy one's curiosity, but to teach believers; and writing is composed not to wow fellow academics, but to instruct local church pastors and their members. This is not to say that there is no place for theological, historical, exegetical, and philosophical works of advanced depth and narrow focus; there is, and I would never seek to belittle such projects or demean them as unvaluable. These endeavors may well have value, perhaps great value, and we should regularly encourage our scholars to undertake them and to engage in the highest levels of scholarship. At the same time, it is my personal conviction that we should encourage our gifted scholars and teachers to reach us with their teaching--and not only this, but to aim at us. How blessed we would be if theologians styled themselves as pastor-theologians, and aimed to instruct the local church not incidentally, but primarily.

We need theologian-pastors (shepherds). This is our greatest need. But we also need pastor-theologians (scholars). We must be careful not to think that only one group is important. We do not need merely a continuing recovery of a vital, doctrinally focused pastorate. No, we need the continuing recovery of men like Carson and Sweeney and Ware and Mohler and Hamilton and Packer and Akin and Wells who engage in the sacred task of Christian scholarship in order to bless, help, rescue and vitalize the local churches that populate our world. Here's hoping that the future will bring, as I think it will, an army of doctrinally savvy, theologically precise, culturally engaged pastors who will lead local churches with great energy and faithfulness. And here's hoping that marching alongside them will be a great cavalry of scholars, who will help those pastors to steer Christians away from error, to love truth and live life doxologically, and to emerge victorious in the great struggle for true life that engulfs us all.

When Ordinary Is Extraordinary: A Reflective Review of D. A. Carson's Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor

This is one of the best books you will ever read about the Christian ministry.

That is a dramatic claim. Right now, you're asking yourself if it's true. After all, this book written by New Testament scholar D. A. Carson and published by Crossway Books in 2008 is just shy of 160 pages; it doesn't treat a figure of major historical significance; it doesn't claim to be an exhaustive primer on the Christian ministry. Indeed, it's rather paradoxical in nature--it's written by the preeminent evangelical New Testament professor of the current day, and yet it's a professedly humble little book. Why, then, the rather breathy claim that the just-published Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor is an excellent book? The answer is very simple: it's a straightforward reflection on everyday ministry written by a godly critical thinker, himself involved in the work of ministry. Those who read it will come away with a realistic picture of Christian ministry, an accomplishment rarely achieved with such accessibility and clarity.

Tom Carson was a pastor in the province of Quebec in Canada from the 1930s to the 1970s. He spoke at no major conferences, wrote no seminal work, and never pastored even a mid-size church by American standards. Yet it is clear from his son's profile that he was an exceptional man. He was a faithful husband, a devoted if quiet father, a dogged servant of the church, and a passionate witness for Christ. I never met him, but I know him. He is the man who can be found in countless little towns and hamlets across the country--no, across the world--who labors faithfully for the Lord in an unspectacular but steady fashion. Unlike many of us self-promoters, he's not in ministry to make a name for himself, but to glorify his God. This is what Tom Carson did for most of his life, and this is what many who are just like him do. Before, this group was overlooked. Now, they have a book. Indeed, Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor is not only Tom's biography, it is the biography of countless men just like him whose names we will know only in the age to come.

D. A. Carson's Memoirs walks through Tom Carson's ordinary pastoral labors as a bivocational minister to both French and English speaking Canadians. Carson the son gives us historical background, comments, and excerpts from his father's diary to sketch his life and his ministry. I won't quote material at length here. I will say that the historical background is interesting and does provide the general backdrop of Tom Carson's life. One can tell that D. A. Carson is not a historian, and I sometimes had to backtrack to get the dates right for sections of extensive length, but this little book nicely illuminates the religious scene of twentieth-century Canada. Though I grew up just miles from Canada, I confess that I knew (and know) very little about it. To most Americans, it is a silent cousin, an unexplored country filled with Catholics, strange accents, and cold air. Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor brings modern Canada to light and shows that it changed drastically over the course of Tom Carson's life. The country transitioned from a Catholic stronghold in the early twentieth century to a spiritual pastiche by the late twentieth century. Ordinary pastors like Tom Carson struggled to understand these massive cultural shifts, though they never failed to stop preaching the gospel of salvation in Christ.

Of course, it was not merely cultural shifts that Tom (and others) had to contend with. He had the requisite struggles of any pastor--church upheaval, family turmoil, the onset of Alzheimers in a spouse--and he grappled with these difficulties all of his life. Yet it is clear from the text that Tom never walked away from the narrow path. Though brambles hung in the way, and landed some tough blows, Tom walked on. He led tiny churches when no one else had eyes for unchurched areas. He knocked on thousands of doors when policemen harassed him for doing so. He exhorted young pastors when there were no major seminaries or internship programs to prepare men for ministry. His was the life of passionate, almost desperately active faith. Though the results are not startling in terms of their numerical count, they are extraordinary nonetheless.

In the midst of a spiritual wilderness, a land openly and unashamedly hostile to evangelical Christianity, Tom persevered, though his overactive conscience continually condemned him. His portrait reveals to be a flawed man, weak as we all are, but yet a great man of unusual integrity and zeal. As noted, D. A. Carson provides many helpful, if brief, sections of comment on his father's life. These sections alone are worth the book's price. Carson has reflected long and deeply on Christian ministry, and the reader will be instructed by his words. His father's diary excerpts are not particularly unusual in their content or depth of thought, but they are inspiring. The reader is taught through them, for they present a man who has gone before and stayed faithful. The book is helpful as well for its treatment of suffering. Most Christians suffer to some degree in their lives. Tom did, and he wrote about it a bit, and his son fills out his writing with his own considerations on how we handle trial and difficulty. Though it may be more fun to read about wild success and flashy ideas, these things won't tarry long for most of us. Trial, however, will. Like Tom, we'll go through nasty church splits, or marital crises, or deep personal or ministerial disappointments, and the quality of our faith will show itself in these challenges.

Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor proves helpful, then, in constructing a balanced and realistic portrait of ministry. You won't come away from this narrative chronicle of Tom Carson's life inspired in exactly the same way as you will from reading Spurgeon's autobiography, but you will be ready, in a sense, for the challenging nature of everyday ministry. That is a precious literary gift. In addition, the section on the way Tom Carson deals with his wife's illness is quite moving and helpful for husbands. Tom was clearly a model husband in living with his wife in a gentle and loving way. Furthermore, the frequent commentary on how Tom dealt with being a number two man, as he sometimes was, will prove helpful for those who recognize that they are not best fitted for the most prominent ministry positions. It is quite instructive to observe Tom as he deals with jealousy and inadequacy in different seasons. Wisdom for men of varied gifting is readily supplied both by his example and his son's analysis of this lifelong struggle.

All of the above should not be read as concluding that the book is perfect. Its language can be a bit dramatic at times, and D. A. Carson's analyses of situations and people is occasionally sharp-edged. The book frequently switches between the present and past tenses, which often refreshes the reader but sometimes confuses him (particularly if the reader is a history geek trained to write about the past using only the past tense). I would have liked a bit more reflection from Carson the younger on his father's ministry at the end; the book closes rather suddenly, and the appendix material could have been a little more inspiring (though it is helpful). With these minor points noted, though, the book is excellent.

As I bring this reflective review to a close, I note that I connected with this book on a deeply personal level. I am from Maine, where the spiritual "ground", so to speak, is as hard as it is cold. Maine is much like Canada, and indeed New England writ large is quite similar to Canada in a religious sense. I am from a 40-50 person church from a tiny town, and I have known many of the trials experienced by Tom Carson and his son, Don. Like Dr. Carson, though, I am also immensely privileged to be from a family of faithful Christians led by godly men. My grandfather, Daniel Dustin, was a great servant of his church, Grace Chapel of Lexington, MA (which is ironically a "megachurch" in New England terms, but was not always) and my father, Andrew Strachan, is a great servant of his church, First Baptist of East Machias, ME. Like Dr. Carson, then, I know something of the power of observation of faithful men, and I am grateful as he clearly is for those who have gone before me and shown me how to walk the narrow way.

Indeed, watching faithful men labor on a weekly basis in the work of local church ministry has a transforming effect. It is not fanfare that shepherds such transformation. No, it is faithfulness, rugged faithfulness, the kind of character that can only be forged by a supernatural work of the Spirit of God. In this sense, the ordinary transcends itself. Memoirs of an Ordinary Pastor is one account of such transformation. For this reason and all others mentioned before it is, simply put, one of the best books you will ever read about the ministry. It has no new ideas, no revolutionary gameplan. It has only a story, and a humble story at that. But this humble story tells a powerful message, one of an ordinary faith becoming something beautiful over a lifetime's course. In the end, then, the book is like the man it considers: unassuming, faithful, and--it must be said--quite extraordinary.

Becoming a Research Assistant: Or, How to Best Pursue Your Dreams of Assistantship-Based Glory

I've done a number of internship and worked as a research assistant a few times in my young life. In fact, I've gone so far as to label myself a "career intern" due to my completion of no less than five internships to this point in my life. In the course of my glorious and seemingly unending intern career, I have gotten the following question a number of times: what does one do to get such opportunities? I thought that I might take a stab at this question in hopes of passing on a few words to those who seek evangelical assistantships and the accoutrements--jacuzzis, BMWs, and global renown--they provide.

In all seriousness, I count myself quite undeserving of the opportunities I have had to study under godly, gifted men in preparation for pastoral and academic ministry. The Lord has blessed me richly by giving me opportunities to study under men like Mark Dever and Al Mohler. How, then, did I get such opportunities? The quick and easy answer is that there is no easy answer. As with every blessing that you and I receive, the Lord decides in His will when to give us gifts. I didn't figure out a magic formula by which to fit certain positions into my life. I simply lived the Christian life and, as we all do in different days, experienced the Lord's kindness in many ways.

With that said--and it must be said--young men who desire training under godly, gifted men in preparation for a life of sacrificial, self-denying service for the Kingdom can do a few things to win such opportunities. Here are a number I've thought of, though I state them without any pretense to systematic or definitive thought and without any belief that I have practiced these points with great success. Take these as humble thoughts from one young man to others.

1. Pursue godliness: Strive first and foremost to be a godly man. Do not strive to be a famous or successful or well-known man. Strive to be holy, to live in a way that glorifies Christ, and to do what will honor Him with your life. If you determine that you are called to some form of future leadership that will be enriched by training under a godly, gifted man, then pursue research assistantships (or internships, or whatever they may be). But don't pursue them for your own glory. Mark this first point carefully. Many men do not, and you can spot them. They are the ones who don't care a great deal about holiness, about God's mission in the earth, and about preparation for ministry. They care more about fame, reputation, and success. If you are interested in training opportunities for these reasons, please, repent. After you learn in the context of a local church how to pursue things rightly, then consider pursuing ministry opportunities. But don't start out doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.

2. Work hard: If you and others around you perceive that you are called to leadership of the church of some sort, then work very diligently in all that is before you. Don't seek the rewards of labor without engaging in the labor itself. By this I mean that ambitious young men should tax themselves to sharpen their minds and hearts for the glory of God. Men who need assistants and interns aren't looking for sycophants to tell them how great they are, they aren't looking for staff who are interested in basking in their reflected glory, and they aren't looking for lazy stair-steppers who are zealous only to climb the next step. Such men are looking for workers who can make a meaningful contribution to their scholarship and ministry. If you want to work under them, then, work very hard to make your mind and your spirit useful to such a man. Take hard classes, participate in ministry, speak up in class, get to know other action-oriented guys, and pray that you'll work well and humbly in all that you do. I've come into contact with many guys who think one's resume is shaped by one's connections. This is true to a degree, but the most important earthly factor is being a person who others would refer and who leaders can use in their work for the Lord. The men I've worked for prized the ability to think critically, to think quickly at times, to anticipate needs and requests, to bring a level of knowledge to one's work, and to work with a spirit of zest and energy. Cultivate these qualities as you seek opportunities.

3. Practice humility: This is a subset of point one, admittedly, but it is so important as to bear stating. The Bible teaches us clearly that the Lord blesses the humble. Above all, pursue humility in your walk with Christ. Do not seek to glorify and exalt yourself. Seek to humbly serve the Lord and His church by the application of your gifts and abilities to a vocational calling. As you gain opportunities, speak little of them. Talk little about what you've been able to do and who you've worked under. Talk much about Christ and His kingdom. Concern yourself with what truly matters. It may be well and good to write articles, to pen books, to lead ministries, to work for evangelical dignitaries, or whatever else you may be able to do, but these things are not ends in themselves. They are merely channels by which you can send some glory to God. This is one of the hardest things to remember in life, but it is one of the most essential. Pursue humility.

4. Seek opportunities in alignment with your calling: Don't seek opportunities for their own sake. You might have snagged a killer internship, but what good will that do you if it has no bearing on your future life? Take care not to be jealous, then, of those who are getting opportunities that have little relation to what you want to do. (Take extra care not to be jealous of those who have the positions you seek, of course!) Focus on what your heart and your church members and friends tell you they perceive to be your calling. Don't chase glory. Chase preparation. If an internship under an unknown pastor will prepare you for ministry better than one under a big-name pastor, take the former. Remember, you're not seeking a slick resume. You're seeking a godly heart, a seasoned mind, an experienced hand at the vocation God seems to be directing you toward. Seek what will furnish you with these qualities.

There are a few thoughts for those who are seeking ministerial opportunities. There's much more that could be said, but I hope that this is at least minimally helpful. If I can leave you with just one thought, remember that you are not working for your own glory in this life, but the glory of God. Those who seek opportunities are often ambitious young men. There is nothing wrong with ambition in itself, as it can be directed to godly ends, but the execution of this matter makes all the difference in the world as to whether you end up a profitable, useful servant of the Lord or a self-centered, opportunistic, self-glorifying servant of your own ego. Be ambitious, then, but be ambitious for the Kingdom. That is a skill and a qualification that fits you not only for earthly work, but for a heavenly rest.