“Shepherd the Flock of God”

I invite you to turn to 1 Peter and to chapter 5.

So, we’ve had—this has been Moses, Paul, and Peter. Okay? Moses—we listened to Moses, we listened to Paul, and now we listen to Peter. I suppose—so, Peter, Paul, and Moses. I guess if it was a Jesuit conference, it would be Peter, Paul, and Mary, but, yeah. Yeah. I don’t know about you, but I am a Protestant.

First Peter chapter 5:

“So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and a witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory. Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.

“By Silvanus, a faithful brother as I regard him, I have written briefly to you, exhorting and declaring that this is the true grace of God. Stand firm in it. She who is at Babylon”—I take it the church in Rome, all of God’s people here in Rome—“who is likewise chosen, sends you greetings, and so does Mark, my son. Greet one another with the kiss of love.

“Peace to all of you who are in Christ.”

Amen.

A brief prayer:

Speak, O Lord, as we come to you
To receive the food of your Holy Word;
Take your truth, plant it deep in us;
Shape and fashion us [for your glory].[1]

In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.

In 1945, the Church of England commissioned—the Commission on Evangelism produced—a plan that was dedicated to the memory of the very influential archbishop William Temple. The report was entitled Towards the Conversion of England, seeking to stimulate the work of the gospel amongst the Anglican Communion at that time immediately following the Second World War. The report, in its conclusion, drew attention to the question of leadership in each of these congregations. And part of it reads as follows: “Conditions … vary from parish to parish: the … determining factor being, apparently, the personality of the incumbent. More particularly is this the case in villages where a spiritual leader can often make an astonishing difference.”[2]

Now, that’s a long time ago—eighty years ago—and we can make of that what we wish, because much has changed in the last eighty years. But this has never changed and never will change—namely, the strategic necessity of leadership in the church of God to be under the direct control of God the Holy Spirit and guided by the Scriptures. The fact is, when we read church history and even in our own little church histories, the church of Jesus Christ does not advance beyond the spiritual progress of its leaders. The church that we serve will never advance beyond our own personal spiritual progress. That is why what we are on our own before God, in our own cars, in our own bedrooms, in our own personal travails, that is what we are. We know it, and God knows it, and it is so unbelievably crucial.

Peter—it must have cost him a lot to write this letter. And you can do for your homework the first four chapters, because you will notice that chapter 5 begins with “So…” “So…” “Therefore…” What he’s saying is “In light of all that I have presently written, allow me to exhort the elders among you.”

That word for “exhort” is an important word. In Classical Greek, it was used to encourage troops who were going into battle. And when Paul uses the same word, “I exhort you,”[3] at the beginning of Romans chapter 12, he does so on the strength of his apostolic authority. Peter uses it here. He’s already addressed the leadership in beginning his letter as “an apostle” himself “of Jesus Christ.”[4] But you will notice his exhortation to the elders comes first “as a fellow elder”: “I am, like you, serving the chief Shepherd. I am a fellow elder.”

And also he says, “a witness of the sufferings of Christ.” I hope one day to meet him and ask exactly what he had in mind when he wrote that phrase. Does he simply mean that he was around at the time of the death of Jesus? I’m sure it must mean more than that. But he witnessed the sufferings of Christ. And at the same time, he is “a partaker [of] the glory that is going to be revealed.”

Now, I don’t want to do a lot of cross-referencing, but the theme that runs through 1 Peter is suffering and glory. In chapter 1, he makes the point in verse 6. He’s writing to the scattered believers in Cappadocia, Bithynia, and all over the place—modern-day Turkey and so on—and he says, “You know, you’ve been born again to a living hope,”[5] and so on. “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”[6]

And here he comes back to it and reinforces the very same paradigm: that the notion of experiencing anything of glory is tied directly to the reality of suffering, whatever shape that may take.

And so it is that he is writing in order to encourage these folks in this way. If your Bible is open there, you just look at verse 13, for example, of the previous chapter: “Rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.”[7] We want the glory; we don’t want the sufferings. We want crowns; we don’t want crosses. We want encouragement; we don’t want discouragement. And what Peter is really saying as he writes is emblematic of his life. Because he made such a mess of so much of it on the journey, and in that experience of disappointment and failure and so on, he has been fashioned according to the pattern of God.

The Task of the Shepherd

Now, he begins in that way because he’s exhorting them, right? There, what is he telling us to do, telling them to do? Well, to “shepherd the flock of God that is among you.” In the King James Version: “Feed the flock.”[8] “Feed the flock.” He’s well aware of the words of the prophets in the Old Testament—Jeremiah 3: “I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will feed you with knowledge and understanding.”[9]

We’ve been saying throughout this time, I think, that we are servants of the Word. As we’ve given a genuine response of applause to those who have fed us, we recognize what a wonderful thing it is that they were up before we were up. They were preparing when we were snoozing. They were serving when we were receiving. And the task of a pastor is essentially that: that we are up before they’re up. We’re preparing while they’re sleeping. We’re in the kitchen, and then we bring it out, and we offer it. “Feed the flock of God.”

You know, one of the questions that was asked just now was about, you know, “I have to do this, and I have to do this, and I have to do this, and I have to do this. And what am I going to do?” And William answered the question effectively. What I’ve learned along the way is that it’s important that we make it clear to those who have entrusted us with the privilege of the pulpit that our priority actually is this pulpit—that the people assemble to hear the Word of God. That’s what Moses said: “Assemble my people that they might listen to my voice.”[10] That has to be the priority.

And so, in the journey of seeking to do that, all of us will have experienced the occasion when someone has said, “Well, you know, the previous minister was such a nice man, and he always came to see me on Tuesday, and he did this, and he did that, and he did the next thing. And he loved me.” Oh, really? Well, I’m going to tell you this: You will know that I have stopped loving you when I stop preaching, when I stop studying my Bible, when I stop learning, when I stop giving myself to the task of prayer and the ministry of the Word of God.[11] Peter says, “Listen…”

And remember what Jesus had said to him when he restores him: “Feed my sheep.”[12] “Feed my sheep.” So it’s understandable that he says to these others to whom he writes, “This is what we need to be about: Shepherd the flock of God that is among you.”

Now, I didn’t just choose the Twenty-Third Psalm for the experience of singing probably the best-known psalm in Scotland—at least in the old days—but I chose it because the Twenty-Third Psalm, I think, provides us with the archetypal picture of the shepherd of our souls. If the Twenty-Third Psalm is a picture of anything, it’s surely a picture of the Lord Jesus himself. And therefore, the pattern of shepherding has to be that pattern.

For example, if you turn to Psalm 23, what does the shepherd do? Number one: He provides nourishment and restoration: “He leads me …. He restores my soul.” He offers consolation: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, … you … comfort me.”[13] He provides protection, in verse 5: “You prepare a table before me” where? “In the presence of my enemies.” Who looks after us when our foes seek to undermine us? The chief Shepherd. And he makes it absolutely clear that whatever is going on, goodness and mercy will follow us all the days of our lives, and we have a destination, and that we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.[14]

Oh, you understand this. This is straightforward, isn’t it? “Shepherd the flock of God that is among you.” It’s interesting, the phraseology, isn’t it? He doesn’t say “that you are among.” He says, “They’re among you.” Do you have grandchildren? Especially when they’re small, and they come over—and they’re among you! You’re not among them; they’re among you. “Excuse me? Hey, wait a minute! Ha-ha! Get off my back! Come on! Leave me alone! Leave your papa alone. He’s an old man.” No, you can’t get away from them. You don’t want to!

“Shepherd the flock of God that is among you.” “Among you,” not among the church up the street. “Among you.” We’ve got to preach to the congregation we have, not the congregation we wish we had. And then you can flip that around, and the congregation says, “Well, we’ve got to listen to shepherd we were given, not the one we wish we had.” It’s the same principle.

What’s on the menu? The unsearchable riches of Christ. “What’s on the menu today, Pastor?” Jesus! He’s the Bread of Life.[15] He’s the Living Water.[16] Jesus!

Again, in that question: It is very possible to figure out how to get the mechanism from wherever you were in the Old Testament to Jesus so it looks like you have performed an amazing equation and yet not offer to our people Jesus. Did they receive Jesus? Did we offer Jesus to them? Or did we just show them how good we are at navigating the text so that this is how it fits? The person says, “I know how it fits. But my marriage is a mess. My kid’s doing drugs. I need Jesus. I don’t just need you to tell me about how I find Jesus.”

In the morning when I rise,
Give me Jesus. …

And when I come to die,
Give me Jesus.

Right? There it is.

“Shepherd the flock of God that is among you”—and do it always and all the time. This is how we exercise oversight. This is how we look after our people. They’re all “among us.”

John Stott at one point, somewhat classically English, he says, “You know, it is a dreadful thing if you have a pastor who is invisible Monday through Saturday and incomprehensible on Sunday.” You do not want to be like him.

Now, the exercise of this task could be done in a number of ways, and Peter is very straightforward: “Shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight.” We keep watch over them “as those who must give an account.” We “keep watch over” their souls.[17] It’s one thing to be a medical physician. It’s another to be a physician of souls.

Now, he says, “Make sure that you exercise oversight,” number one, “not under compulsion.” “Not under compulsion.” And that takes us back, I think, to Richard’s first address, where he talked about being eager, if I remember correctly, and how we can make sure that we’re eager.

I wasn’t very good at football, but I loved it very much. I played for my school team and, later on, other places. But on Friday, in the school in suburban Glasgow, we had to go to the physics lab. There was no reason except that that was the place we gathered. And the person who was in charge of our school football team would come in and preside. And he came in carrying eleven jerseys, and he put them on the thing. And until lunchtime on Friday, we never knew if we were picked to play. And I remember it vividly. I knew where I would like to play. I knew where I thought I could play. But all I wanted to do was play. All I wanted was a jersey. “Give me the jersey! I want to play.”

That’s the way it’s supposed to be: “Give me the Bible. I want to preach. I want to preach.” “Not under compulsion”! “Not for shameful gain”—not to make money, not “filthy lucre”[18] that comes along. Not to rule the roost. Notice that? “Not domineering over those in your charge.” They’re God’s flock. It’s God’s flock. It’s not my flock or your flock.

“And make sure that as you do this eagerly and willingly, that you keep your eyes on the prize.” Verse 4: because “when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.” The word that is used there, that Peter employs—and this actually ties to what I mentioned in passing somewhat humorously last night about 2 Peter 1:11: the picture of the returning athlete not being welcomed into the city through the normal porticos but being welcomed into the city through a new gate, a new gap in the wall that has been broken down and has been garlanded in order that the triumph might be evident not only to the encouragement of the athlete but to the well-being of the entire community. And that’s the picture that he uses: that “there will be granted to you,” he says, “an abundant entrance into heaven.”[19] And the crown that you’d be given to wear would be partly embroidered, if you like, by the amaranth flower, which was supposed to be a flower that lasted much longer than the average flowers that we get on Mother’s Day. (Incidentally, don’t forget.) And so what he’s saying is “Although all the other things will fade away, the unfading crown of glory will be awarded on that day.”

In singing the Twenty-Third Psalm—and I’m only thinking about it now—but in singing the Twenty-Third Psalm, we just sang one of the three hymns that were sung at the funeral of Queen Elizabeth II. I wonder: Did you agree with me that although she was the longest-reigning monarch, although she had established her throne, if you like, with grace, she preached in her funeral? Well, you say, “Well, she didn’t.” Well, she did, by the hymns she chose. She chose the Twenty-Third Psalm in a declaration not that the Lord is a Shepherd but “the Lord is my shepherd.”[20] That was her conviction. She chose to have the congregation sing “The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended,” which was sung at Queen Victoria’s funeral and which was sung when Britain handed back Hong Kong to the Chinese. Why did she do that? Because this is how it finishes:

So be it, Lord; thy throne shall never,
Like earth’s proud empires, pass away;
[Your] kingdom stands and grows forever,
Till all [your] creatures own [your] sway.[21]

And what was the other one? “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling.” How does it end? “Till we cast our crowns before [you], lost in wonder, love, and praise.”[22] I think that’s the key to her. I think it was. I think it has to be. I mean, the only person that she ever referred to as “Your Majesty” was Christ.

The Vital Importance of Humility

Now, this is the promise of the Bible: “When the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.” “Well,” you say, “I feel very good about that.” “Well,” he says, “and I know you do. But let me just say to you: Make sure that you who are younger find yourselves in submission to the structure of authority.” And he goes into this little piece on the practice of humility: “Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. Clothe yourselves…” “Clothe yourselves.” It’s a garment that is to be worn. It’s to be worn by all the family. All the family: “Clothe yourselves, all of you…” It’s not an exhortation to feel it. It’s not an exhortation, certainly, to fake it. It’s not an exhortation to pray about it. It’s an exhortation to do it.

Where is the great, classic picture? John 13: Jesus, in the face of the dirty feet of his disciples, steps forward to do for them what they themselves were unwilling, apparently, to do for one another. You say, “Well, that was remarkable.” Yeah, but it was really remarkable, wasn’t it? That he washed the feet of his betrayer. That he washed the feet of his denier. That he washed the feet of the cowards who were all about to run away and leave him.

Now, I think Tillich is right when he says every day, in a thousand ways, we seek to make ourselves the center of the universe. And the fact is, we’re not the center of the universe. I’m not even the center of my own little universe, and neither are you. When we get this wrong—in a family, in a business, in a home, in a sports team, in a church—it is inevitable that friendships are broken, that family life is strained, and that fellowship is destroyed.

And so he says we need to be aware of the fact, at the end of verse 5, that “God opposes the proud but [he] gives grace to the humble.” Remember the Magnificat? Mary says, “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate.”[23] You see, the final phrase of verse 6 is not motivation; it’s an explanation: “Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.” The prophet tells us—God speaks, and he says, “I live in a high and [a] holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit.”[24]

This must have cost Peter to write this. Sylvanus was helping him; we know that from verse 12. I can imagine the dialogue. Maybe Sylvanus says, “Do you want to put a little personal piece in there, Peter?”

Peter said, “Well, what do you mean?”

He said, “Well, don’t I remember, Peter, that you’re the one who said, ‘Even if all these people fall away, I will never fall away’?”[25]

And Peter says, “No, I don’t want to put that in. No, no. Don’t put that in.”

I used to think—when I was twenty-three instead of seventy-three—that by the time you got to, like, fifty, sixty, seventy, whatever it is, you know, all the hard stuff would be behind you. You know, you would have conquered. Yeah. I’m here to tell you: It’s not true. And as I read my Bible, I realize that some of the greatest tests came at the end of people’s lives, not at the beginning. That was pointed out by Terry, wasn’t it, on Sunday, re: Daniel? It’s true also of the whiz kid, Uzziah, who was militarily, intellectually, economically, fiscally, in every way a genius. But when the Chronicler records the impact of his life, he says, “He was gloriously helped until he became strong. But when he became strong, he grew proud to his own destruction.”[26] God does not share his glory. And it’s a lesson that we need to learn.

Let me give you two illustrations. And as I give these two illustrations to you, just a brief plea about saying to you—especially younger men—about filing things, about the way in which you read books and the way in which you record things: It’s important that you get on it as soon as you possibly can. Because after you’ve read three books, you will spend a long time trying to figure out which book it was in which you read such and such a thing. So make sure that you do that. Don’t look for illustrations on a Thursday that you want to use on a Sunday. Just read in such a way that you’re creating a catalog, a panorama of information, that will eventually become useful to you, provided you file it accordingly.

So, for example, from two separate of my little scribble books, because we’re talking about humility: Simeon—Charles Simeon—was, what, fifty-four years in his church? Thornton, who was like his church secretary, we could say, writes to Simeon when he’s still a younger man, and he says this to him:

[Charles,] watch continually over your own spirit, and do all in love; we must grow downwards in humility to soar heavenwards. I should recommend [you] having a watchful eye over yourself, for generally speaking as is the minister so are the people.[27]

The second one is from Conspirata, part of the trilogy by Robert Harris on Cicero. If you don’t read it, you should read it. But the voice in these books is the voice of Tiro, who is Cicero’s slave. And he watches out for his master, and he writes up his notes and everything else. The archenemy—the [antagonist] in this particular novel—is a fellow called Crassus, who’s a devious character, obsequious character, just a “Watch out for this guy!” kind of character.

And Tiro recounts the occasion when Crassus comes to Cicero, and he just builds him up: “Cicero, I’m amazed at how good you are, and you’ve really been doing a great job, and you’re a terrific fellow, and there’s no one like you in the Roman Empire.” He goes on and on and on like that. Tiro then observes, “There was a time when Cicero would have spotted such an obvious trap a mile off.” Listen: “But I fear there is in all men who [receive] their life’s ambition only a narrow line between dignity and vanity, confidence and delusion, glory and self-destruction. Instead of [sitting] in his seat and modestly disavowing such praise, Cicero rose and made a long speech agreeing with Crassus’s every word.”[28] When you read on in the novel, you realize that that is the beginning of the end for Cicero. And it will be for you, and it will be for me too.

We cannot overstate this. Because the only character picture we have of Jesus is when he says, “I am gentle and lowly in heart.”[29]

Now, we need to hasten to the end, because there’s lunch and places to go and those buses that are out there—whatever it is. So I don’t want to… I still have the question in my mind from last night: “How long do you speak for?” At the moment, it looks like too long, but I can catch up. So…

Anxiety, Adversity, and Security

Okay. Having said something about the vital importance of humility, he then goes on to address three things: number one, anxiety; adversity; and security. Okay? I’ll say something about each just in passing.

Number one: anxiety. As the Puritans would say, providence is a soft pillow. These people to whom he writes were surrounded by threats. They were surrounded by accusations. They were not living in a tranquil place like northeastern Ohio. They were faced with the wind blowing forcedly against them. They were a threat to the order of society. They refused to say that Caesar is lord. And so as a result of that, you would add to it the normal worries of their lives—worried about their family, worried about their employment, worried about their future. And it is to them and to us that the Bible says, “Here’s what you need to do with your anxiety: not deny it, not ignore it, but actually cast it.”

You’ll notice that the ESV has this right. In the NIV, verse 7 begins with an imperative: “Cast…” “Cast it.” No, no. The imperative is actually “Humble yourself.” And one of the evidences that we have humbled ourselves is seen in what we do with the experience of anxiety.

See, we need to be humble enough to recognize that we’re not in control—that, you know, when you get on the plane going home, I don’t know what seat you’re in, but let’s just say you’re in, you know, 34B. You got a middle seat. You can’t fly it from back there. You can’t. And neither can I. And that’s why we have the captain. That’s why we have the pilot. Some of the reason that we get ourselves in such dreadful straits is because we’re trying to fly it from the middle seat in row 34. And Peter understands that. He tried that.

It’s a word not only to ourselves, as those who are in a position of leadership, but it is a word as we recognize the neuroses of our age—the overwhelmed teenagers, the Gen Z people, whoever they actually are; I can’t keep up with it all. But these young people have swallowed the lies of our age, and they’re alienated. The three big lies are these: that there is no creator God, that there is no absolute morality, and there is no ultimate truth. And once they have succumbed to those notions, it is no surprise that they would be consumed—that mental health and all these things would be part and parcel of it. They’re in your church. They’re in our congregations. And therefore, we must be prepared to heed the Scriptures’ exhortation to ourselves if we’re going to, with any credibility, convey it to others.

I don’t feel any judgment at all, and I hope you don’t, about the disciples on the boat. I mean, you could be like “Oh, I can’t believe they did that.” But no, I don’t think so. No. I mean, the storm erupts, Jesus is asleep, and they wake him up to inform him that he with the rest of them were all about to drown.[30] Are you crazy? You’ve got the Lord of creation asleep, and you woke him up to tell him this?

Are you ever awake at three o’clock in the morning? “Lord, did you know about this?” He says, “I know about it all.”

From humility to anxiety and to adversity. Adversity: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil [is] … roaring.” You remember at the beginning of Job, when God says to the Evil One, “So where have you come from?” He says, “Well, I’ve come from roaming around the earth and going back and forth in it.”[31] D. E. Hoste told the folks in the Overseas Missionary Fellowship that he would never appoint any of them to the task of being a missionary in the China Inland Mission until first they had learned to wrestle with the Evil One, because, he said, if you haven’t learned to wrestle with the Evil One, you’ll wrestle with your fellow missionaries.[32]

And whenever a congregation or a group begins that kind of wrestling, what has become apparent, apart from anything else, is that together we have lost sight of the real enemy. And that is why Peter writes as he does. He seeks to intimidate, he seeks to devour, he’s a master of disguise,[33] and his destiny is not in question.

So what should we do? Well, we should “resist him, firm in [the] faith.” “Stand, then, in his great might, with all his strength endued.”[34] And do so in the awareness that you’re not alone in the battle.

Well, I want just to say a word concerning the security that is then here in verses 10 and 11: “After you[’ve] suffered a little while…” There’s the same theme again; he’s gone full circle. “Though for a little while you may suffer grief and various trials…”[35] That’s 1:6. Here we are at the end of it, and he says, “I’m coming back to the same theme. Don’t let’s kid ourselves. This is no walk in the park.” “I beg your pardon; I never promised you a rose garden,” you know. “Along with the sunshine, there’s got to be a little rain sometime[s].”[36] That was a one-hit wonder, but it was good.

And so he says, “Here’s the deal: For a little while…” We’re not removed from the realm of painful experiences, because we live life in a fallen world. The kind of faulty thinking that suggests it comes from poor preaching or from a denying of what the Bible has to say.

In the providence of God, you and I are today where God has determined we should be. And in facing up to these realities, this is his great promise of his Word. He called you to his eternal glory in Christ, and he is personally committed, in his grace—a grace that is sufficient for every trial, is available to us in Jesus; a call to glory that only comes through the grace of Christ. And so he says, “In light of that, you may be assured of the fact that he will restore you.” Again, remember who’s writing: “I have prayed for you, Peter. And afterwards, you go and strengthen and restore the brethren.”[37]

Let’s just acknowledge that we’re all broken and bust. We all have disappointments. We all have failures. It’s “through many dangers, toils, and snares”[38] that we have already got to this conference. How do you know you’re going to make it to another one, or to next Sunday? Well, because he is the God who restores. He restores even the years that the locusts have eaten.[39] It’s a wonderful reality, isn’t it? And the picture, of course, you will know, is a picture of unyoking an oxen, or putting things back together orthopedically, or whatever else it is.

Not only “restore” us but “confirm” us—or, in the NIV, “make [us] strong.”[40] The word that is used here is that we will be supported in such a way as to prevent us from toppling. From toppling. I was just with David Wells a few months ago now, at his retirement place in Massachusetts. I’ve loved him from the day that I met him, and I’m grateful to his writings. And if you haven’t read David Wells’s five books, get them. Put them in your library. But I have such a picture of him in my mind.

And when I went into the retirement home, first I met him, and he was on one of those little trolleys, you know—the electric thing—and I thought, “Oh, David!” you know. And then I said—well, I didn’t say, “Oh, David!” but I thought, “Oh, David!” And so I followed him to his apartment, and when we got up, and he got out of his trolley and parked it—and then he scared me to death. ’Cause he’s tall. He’s 6′3″ at least. And he wanted to make me coffee. And I said, “David, can I make the coffee?” because I didn’t want to say, “’Cause you’re about to fall and kill yourself!” But that was exactly the situation: “I don’t want to be here when you die,” you know.

But once you reach my age, you know one of the things the doctor tells you? You know, if you’re my age. Do you know what he says? He says, “Well, your blood pressure’s good, your cardiac thing…” He says, “But I’ll tell you one thing: Don’t fall.” That’s what he says: “Don’t fall.” When he said that to me a couple of years ago now, I was insulted! Actually, I said to him, “This is me, not my dad!” But it was only a matter of weeks later that I took a flying fall off the back stairs out of our kitchen into the garage, smashed to smithereens a bunch of stuff, and fell flat on my butt right on the concrete floor—cut two of my fingers open and did different things. And as I lay there, I said, “Oh! This is what he was talking about.”

Hey: What comes before a fall? There you go. Every grand pastoral collapse in the last forty-two years that I’ve been in this country may be tied directly to pride. To pride. Whatever its effulgence is, it’s pride. Suddenly: “What are you telling me, ‘Don’t fall’? I don’t fall!”

To “restore” us. To “confirm” us—to prevent us from toppling. To “strengthen” us. That doesn’t mean… He’s not just… These are synonyms in some way, but they’re different. The word “to make you strong” is to prevent you from toppling. The word “to strengthen” means not to prevent you from toppling, because he just said that, but to prevent you from collapsing—collapsing, like a broken deck chair. Boom! And we have to find ways to deal with ourselves, don’t we, and take the medicine, read Isaiah 40, and remind ourselves that all the provision has been made for us by God’s grace?

So, he “will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you,” or make you “steadfast.”[41]

So, the reason I had this in mind was because I know we’re all about to walk out the door. We all go back to the place. You know, the other man’s grass is always greener. You would like to stay here? Talk to me afterwards, okay? I would like to go to the little white church with a hundred and twelve people. You’re going, “You can have it!” Right? Because we’re all in the position—entrusted. Remember where we began? “I exhort the elders among you to be these kind of people, by the grace of God, according to his purposes for you.” And he’s so on it that he knows he needs to say to his readers what he had to take to himself: The only hope you have is in the God of grace, who provides support so that we won’t topple, who provides strength so that we won’t collapse, who provides a foundation so that we won’t be blown away.

Time is gone. I’m not going to talk to Sylvanus, though he’s a wonderful fellow. But if you just look down there, what is he finally saying to us? He says—verse 12—“This is the true grace of God. Stand firm in it.” So if we got to take something out the door, let’s say to one another, “You know what? This is what we got here: We got the true grace of God. If we see one another again in a year or if we don’t, let’s make sure that we stand fast in it.”

One of the other things about growing up as a boy in Scotland was being in an organization. The junior part of it was a group—we were called Life Boys. If you were the big group, you were the Boys’ Brigade—not the American Boys’ Brigade. This is the real Boys’ Brigade stuff. And… (Sorry, but it is true. It’s true.) And we would go to a church service on a Sunday afternoon. We had ridiculous little outfits that we wore. We had a strange little cap that you had a thing under your chin, and it was like this. And after you had had the service, they had a “march-past.” A “march-past.”

Remember, this is the 1950s. It’s only seven years since the end of the Second World War. So the military thing is still going—you know, like VE Day is going in London big time at the moment. And so we would walk. We would walk behind the big boys, and we would come down. We’ve got short pants on, our socks pulled up, ridiculous hats. And we would sing the Boys’ Brigade song, which goes,

Will your anchor hold in the storms of life,
When the [winds] unfold [in the winds] of strife?
When the strong tides lift and the cables strain,
Will your anchor drift or firm remain?

And then we had to pick it up from there. So it goes like this: “We have an anchor that keeps the soul steadfast and sure…”[42]

I said, “What the heck is that about? That’s ridiculous!” But I was seven. And that was sixty-six years ago. I know a lot more about the anchor now than I ever knew when I was seven. But the same grace that starts it off is the grace that brings it to fulfillment.

So whatever happens, fellows, do not be discouraged. Eyes on the prize. Straightforward. Go out singing. Yeah. But we are going to go out singing.

A brief prayer:

Father, thank you. Please help us with all the things we’ve just been thinking about now. Bring home to us as individuals, perhaps, a piece, a part of the puzzle that just is ours. We recognize that the person next to us doesn’t get it, but we know that you have purposed for us to hear all of these talks because you love us and because, by your grace, you have promised to strengthen and confirm and restore and complete the work which you’ve begun. This is our only confidence. And in Christ’s name we pray. Amen.

[1] Stuart Townend and Keith Getty, “Speak, O Lord” (2005).

[2] Towards the Conversion of England: A Plan Dedicated to the Memory of Archbishop William Temple (London: Press and Publication Board of the Church Assembly, 1945), 3.

[3] Romans 12:1 (paraphrased).

[4] 1 Peter 1:1 (ESV).

[5] 1 Peter 1:3 (paraphrased).

[6] 1 Peter 1:6–7 (ESV).

[7] 1 Peter 4:13 (ESV).

[8] 1 Peter 5:2 (KJV).

[9] Jeremiah 3:15 (ESV).

[10] Deuteronomy 4:10 (paraphrased).

[11] See Acts 6:4.

[12] John 21:17 (ESV).

[13] Psalm 23:2–4 (ESV).

[14] See Psalm 23:6.

[15] See John 6:35, 48.

[16] See John 4:7–15.

[17] Hebrews 13:17 (NIV).

[18] 1 Peter 5:2 (KJV).

[19] 2 Peter 1:11 (paraphrased).

[20] Psalm 23:1 (ESV).

[21] John Ellerton, “The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended” (1870).

[22] Charles Wesley, “Love Divine, All Loves Excelling” (1747).

[23] Luke 1:52 (ESV).

[24] Isaiah 57:15 (NIV).

[25] Matthew 26:33; Mark 14:29 (paraphrased).

[26] 2 Chronicles 26:15–16 (paraphrased).

[27] John Thornton, quoted in Hugh Evan Hopkins, Charles Simeon of Cambridge (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1977), 43–44.

[28] Robert Harris, Conspirata (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2010), 223.

[29] Matthew 11:29 (ESV).

[30] See Matthew 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–41; Luke 8:22–25.

[31] Job 1:7; 2:2 (paraphrased).

[32] D. E. Hoste, If I Am to Lead (Singapore: Overseas Missionary Fellowship, 1968), 8.

[33] See 2 Corinthians 11:14.

[34] Charles Wesley, “Soldiers of Christ, Arise” (1749).

[35] 1 Peter 1:6 (paraphrased).

[36] Joe South, “Rose Garden” (1968).

[37] Luke 22:32 (paraphrased).

[38] John Newton, “Amazing Grace” (1779).

[39] See Joel 2:25.

[40] 1 Peter 5:10 (NIV).

[41] 1 Peter 5:10 (NIV).

[42] Priscilla Jane Owens, “We Have an Anchor” (1882).