When I got married, I thought it was important to fix my wife as well as love her. When I tried to fix her, she didn’t feel loved, and our marriage suffered.
Later I learned to stop trying to fix her and love her instead. She began to flourish and grow in unexpected ways. My efforts to fix her were counterproductive; loving her wasn’t designed to change her, but it did.
Later, I tried the same approach with my kids. In one particularly challenging time, I found that the more I tried to fix my child, the more resistance I encountered. I decided to listen and understand instead, and found that resistance dropped. Love did what fixing couldn’t.
Love did what fixing couldn’t.
I think I lived through the same dynamic as a pastor. In every church I’ve pastored, I’ve felt the responsibility to make things better. I sometimes treated the church like a project more than a family to be loved.
I’m amazed by Paul’s language. The Apostle Paul was no intellectual or doctrinal lightweight, and he had no problem communicating deep and sometimes confrontational truths, but he didn’t hold back from loving churches either. “We were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children,” he wrote to in 1 Thessalonians 2:7-8. “So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us.” Later on in the letter he says that they are his glory and joy (1 Thessalonians 2:19-20), astounding words for a congregation to hear from Paul.
In 2 Corinthians, Paul aimed to defuse tensions that had developed between him and the church. “Make room in your hearts for us,” he wrote. “You are in our hearts, to die together and to live together … I have great pride in you” (2 Corinthians 7:2-4).
Paul didn’t just write about the centrality of love in the church in his famous love passage in 1 Corinthians 13. He lived it.
Paul gives pastors and church leaders language we can use as we lead the church, language that I’ve heard good pastors use. They don’t do so to check a box or with an agenda. They do so when they begin to love the church for the sake of love, and when they do, the church can begin to change in beautiful ways.
I’m learning to say things like Paul did: I love being your pastor. It’s a privilege. I can’t wait to see you every week. You really matter to me. I take pleasure in you. I’m proud of you.
I’m not arguing for an overly sentimental ministry. We need ministries of substance and truth. I am arguing that Scripture helps us learn how to lead, teach, and even confront as we love the church at the same time. Paul gives us an example and even vocabulary that we can use.
The church thrives when she’s loved by those who lead it. Christ loves the church, and we get to too. What a privilege. What a power.
