Mark Driscoll Isn’t My Pastor

I don’t know if it’s necessary to state the obvious, but I will.

I am a part of my church not because it is around the corner from my house. Not because it is conveniently located in a state I love. Not because it is filled with perfect specimens of Christianity. Not because the leadership there always makes the right and best decisions. And not because I have found there perfect theology or perfect community.

I am covenanted to my church because it is filled with people who are desperately seeking life and godliness in the context of the Gospel.

I am committed to walking alongside them, to submitting myself to them, to seeing their lives be compelled by the Gospel, and committed to them committing the same to me. I am accountable to my leadership. I seek the counsel of godly men and women to whom the Lord has given positions of authority, knowing that their best interest is not my interest, but the Gospel.

I am safe there.
I am heard there.
I am challenged there.
I am pushed there.
I am called there.
I am loved there.

I am known there.

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A few years ago when I was asking some deep and hard questions, seeking direction from podcasts and books and blogs and opinions, one of my pastors at my church in New York came and leaned against my office door and said, “Lore, I think you’re going to need to step back and just trust the Lord on this. Filling your plate up with the smorgasbord of faith isn’t going to bring a resolution to the questions you’re asking. Only the Lord can do that.”

And He did. He brought me here, to my church, with this leadership, this service.

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I don’t go to Mark Driscoll’s church. I don’t have to concern myself with how he teaches the book of Esther or how Mars Hill handles church discipline or how threadbare his tshirt is.

I don’t go to Rob Bell’s former church. I don’t need to worry about how progressive the service or teaching is there or how cool his glasses are.

I don’t go to John Piper’s church. His hand motions don’t affect me and the size of his congregation doesn’t bear on me.

I don’t go to Rick Warren’s church. I’ve never read The Purpose Driven Life and the main purpose of my life is drink more coffee, so that’s good enough for me.

I go to my church. I am covenanted in there. I am knit there. I seek theology first in the Word and second from my pastors. I trust there. I am trusted there. They rightly have the most influence on me and I trust that even with all the influence I might have elsewhere, the most influence I have is there. At my church.

Also See: Jesus Had Blue Eyes (Or, “Plus One”)

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If the leadership at my church begins to stir up controversy with their sermons or books, or if they let a wolf run rampant among their sheep, or I feel a definite check in my spirit (and not simply the itch of serving alongside broken people in a broken world), I would consider that my business.

But as for the rest, I give it a rest. In the context of local church, it’s not my job to police the world, it’s my job to serve quietly, lead well, counsel gently, love deeply, walk humbly, do justly in the lives with whom I’m covenanted.

We are not pastored by podcasts, theologized by twitter, or found in Facebook. Our pointed fingers are unnecessary to bring about the union of all things eternal. God has this, He’s on His throne, His eyes on His children. He’s got this.

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Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season;
reprove, rebuke, and lexhort, with complete patience and teaching.
For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching,
but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions,
and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths.
As for you, always be sober-minded, endure suffering,
do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry.
II Timothy 4:2-5 ESV

Also See: I Am An Evangelical  Christian And I think Same-Sex Marriage Should Be Legal.

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