Grace abounding to the chief of cynics

As I enter middle age, I confront one of the dangers of becoming ‘more experienced’: bitterness. I am not an old man, but I have never really been young at heart. This means that I have always had a cynical streak. Now I find that I can be awfully cynical—particularly regarding the ministry scene (of which I am a small part) in my corner of the world. This is an ugly feature of my character—a feature that my friends see in me and my wife warns me about. As we all know, it’s much easier to be interesting, funny and clever when tearing things down rather than when you’re talking them up. Australians enjoy dry, ironic humour, but this easily becomes too negative and downright unkind. Often such negativity is the overflow of a bitter heart. Conversations between people in ministry sometimes exhibit the same negativity and unkindness. This negativity grows and spreads. If the first conversation about Reverend X’s ministry is tinged with cynicism, subsequent conversations about him will only be more pointed and gleeful in their negativity. And if one person is prepared to vent their spleen on a certain issue, it can only infect others with a like bitterness; it cannot build them up. This bitterness is often closely associated with envy. A few years ago, I heard a minister humorously refer to ‘Hillsong-envy’. It was funny because it was true for everyone there at the time. Perhaps today we might refer to ‘Driscoll-envy’ among those with established ministries. But closer to home, any person who leads a ministry team will probably have to deal with younger workers in their team who shine more brightly and who possess greater abilities, ideas, energy and personality traits than they do. It’s easy to believe that professional jealousy undermines many ministry teams. However, cynicism and bitterness are barriers to fruitful fellowship. If a minister feels that the people organizing denominational programmes are fools, or that he has been hard done by, or that the guy in the next parish is a poser, his reaction is likely to be to withdraw and isolate himself. He will refuse to learn from others, and will only read literature and attend conferences to pick others apart. Thus he deprives himself and his ministry of fresh air. Such bitterness is associated with selfish pride. Following our sinful nature, we puff ourselves up and assume that we deserve equal or better than the next person. If someone else does well and receives acclaim, but we don’t, we feel that an injustice has occurred. We usually are not so crass as to give voice to such feelings, but the bitterness takes up residence inside us, and perhaps bubbles up in cynicism during unguarded moments. If we give in to our bitterness and cease to consciously repent, our growing hard-heartedness towards others will lead to hard-heartedness towards God: “Why hasn’t he given me my due? Why am I always bypassed?” And a heart that turns inward in this self-absorbed way can only get harder. Having identified the potential for increasing bitterness, I have made it a personal aim to become less bitter and cynical by the time my life and ministry ends. I do not want to come to the end of my life without a positive word to say about anyone or anything—including and especially God. But how will this be possible? Let’s turn to the Bible. In Psalm 73, Asaph tells of his struggle with the doubt he feels arising from envy. At the beginning of the psalm, he quotes the article of faith that he has trouble with: “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart” (v. 1). Asaph’s questioning of God’s justice stems from his envy of the prosperity of those less worthy than he. That sounds familiar! In verses 4-12, Asaph rants bitterly against these wealthy-but-wicked people. In verses 13-14, he expresses his doubts about how worthwhile his faithfulness has been: perhaps he should have given in to the dark side…? The turnaround begins in verse 15 where he refuses to vent his bitterness for the sake of others. Verse 16 shows his internal struggle (at least he didn’t give in). But verse 17 is the real turning point: entering “the sanctuary of God”:

But when I thought how to understand this, it seemed to me a wearisome task, until I went into the sanctuary of God; then I discerned their end. (vv. 16-17)

This shows us the real cause and the only cure for cynicism and bitterness. The real cause is a shift in personal focus away from God and onto something that draws the heart away from him. In Asaph’s case, it was worldly wealth; in the case of many in ministry, it is reputation and the praise of people. We envy because we care too much about such things. The only cure is therefore to turn away from everything else and draw near to God afresh. For Asaph, it means returning to the temple; for us, it means returning to the gospel of the crucified Lord Jesus. This return to God gives us fresh perspective on God’s sovereign justice (vv. 18-20), on God’s dealings with us (vv. 21-24), and on what our ultimate good is (vv. 25-28). These are magnificent verses that repay thorough meditation. In the light of the gospel, if God is offering himself to me, what more could I want? What possible reason could I have for begrudging others something as cheap as worldly reputation? It is hard to be bitter and cynical about anything when you are standing in front of the cross.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (vv. 25-26)

The cross banishes envy by filling us with a sense of humble privilege. The cross removes pride and so enables fellowship. The cross rebukes success-oriented triumphalist ministry. And the cross replaces the desire for self-promotion with the desire to promote Jesus. Two of the biggest heroes of the New Testament were the least concerned about their reputations. When John the Baptist’s disciples were worried that he was being eclipsed by Jesus, John responded with the joyful words “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). He was happy to play the part God had given him, even though it meant fading into the background. When the Apostle Paul was in chains and his envious rival preachers sought to malign him in order to build their own empires, he responded, “What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice” (Phil 1:18). He knew it wasn’t about him; it was all about Jesus, and he cared nothing for his own personal sphere of influence as long as people came to love Jesus. When a minister is losing the battle with bitterness, he is not the only one who suffers. His family and his congregation (who are only ever told what is wrong with them) also suffer. As he isolates himself, he also isolates them. As he builds his empire in order to prove himself, he uses them. He infects them with his negativity, teaching them how to judge, but not how to love. In these ways, the bitterness of the minister can stifle the church’s fellowship and mission. But the solution to bitterness is really quite simple, even though sin is deceitful: God loves you. The Lord Jesus died for you. So it’s not about you. I pray I won’t have too much trouble remembering this. Why not pray the same thing for yourself and your minister?