There are often what seem to be paradoxes in the Christian life. For example, on the one hand, Scripture tells us that we are to bear one another’s burdens. And we should care about what God cares about. We should share his heart for the lost and the grieving, and so on.
But, we are also told to cast our cares on him, since he cares for us (1 Peter 5:7). And we have these words of Jesus in Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
So we will be burdened as we share God’s heart for the world and for the church, but we can also give those heavy loads back to him, and let him share them with us. It can be a bit of a balancing act, to be sure. I often feel overwhelmed by what I see happening all around me, and it gives me a heavy heart, driving me to prayer.
One person of course who knew all about this heaviness of heart was the Apostle Paul. He tells us constantly about the hardships and trials he was going through. In a previous article I mentioned seven of these “hardship lists” – some longer than others. A quite short one is found in Romans 8:35-37 (esp. 35). The lengthiest is found in 2 Corinthians 11:16-33 (esp. 23-29).
Here I will speak further to that longer list of his. If you are familiar with this part of 2 Corinthians 11 you will know that he lists plenty of hardships that he has been enduring: suffering, persecution, dangers, beatings, imprisonment, and so on.
But I always find that the most remarkable thing he says is when he concludes this long list by saying, ‘and on top of all this is my daily concern for all the churches’. Out of all his trials and tribulations, that for him was his main concern. His greatest sufferings arose from his pastoral heart.
I can relate. While I am not being flogged or imprisoned, I do know this daily grief of heart, not just for the state of the world, but for the state of the church. It so often becomes such a heavy burden, although I must keep casting all those cares back on him.
As I say, we need to get the right balance here. We SHOULD have God’s heart and care for what he cares for. But we must remember that it is God who is dealing with all the ills of the world and all the suffering and injustices. Yes I can pray about these matters daily, but I must trust him for the results.
With all this in mind, some helpful commentary from others is worth sharing here. Sam Storms offers wise counsel on these matters. First, he reminds us of this essential truth:
Don’t read this passage as if it were relevant only for Christian leaders, whether apostles or pastors or elders in the local church. The heart here revealed ought to beat within the chest of every follower of Jesus. The affection and passion for the body of Christ so evident in Paul, as well as the whole-souled commitment to the spiritual welfare of other believers, is something for which all of us must aim and labor.
He then speaks about the seeming contradiction of being anxious, yet being commanded not to be anxious:
But doesn’t Paul’s “anxiety” (v. 28) for the churches violate our Lord’s command that we “not be anxious” (Matt. 6:25-34)? Could it be that Paul is here confessing a failure to live up to his own counsel that we “not be anxious about anything” (Phil. 4:6)? No.
We need to remember that the alternative to anxiety in our Lord’s teaching is to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33a). The emotional burden and distress Paul has in view is precisely due to his singular and whole-hearted pursuit of God’s kingdom! He is not filled with anxiety about whether he will endure another imprisonment or beating but rather is concerned with the on-going spiritual struggles of others whom he dearly loves. Seeking the righteousness of God’s kingdom means doing the very thing Paul is doing: laboring for the restoration of the Corinthians to a godly lifestyle and feeling “a divine jealousy” (2 Cor. 11:2) for the robust and pure devotion of their hearts to Jesus. Paul’s “anxiety” had nothing to do with what he might “eat” or “drink” or “wear” (Matt. 6:31) but with the progressive conformity to the image of Christ in the lives of those he loved.
Trent Casto also speaks to the seeming contradiction here:
Beyond its physical pains on occasion, ministry always brings psychological trials. Paul writes: “And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant?” (2 Cor. 11:28-29). Paul knows nothing of making a convert or planting a church and then moving on to the next new ministry with no thought to the last one. He knows nothing of this kind of “Christian” leadership I mentioned earlier that boasts on the pile of dead bodies left in the wake of the church. His heart was intimately wrapped up with every one of its members. When someone in one of his churches suffered weakness, whether it was spiritual danger, lack of financial resources, marital strife, wayward children, or sickness, or some other kind of weakness – Paul himself felt the weight of it. This sharing in the weakness of others is central to genuine Christian ministry, for this is what it means to bear one another’s burdens.
Paul specifically refers to his “anxiety” for all the churches. Generally, the New Testament command is that believers are not to be anxious (Matt. 6:25-34; Luke 12:11). Paul himself commands in Philippians 4:6, “Do not be anxious about anything.” How do we reconcile his anxiety with the commands not to be anxious? The commands not to be anxious refer to worry over one’s own condition that stems from a lack of trust in God’s care in provision. The anxiety that burns Paul, however, flows not from concern for himself, but from his love for the churches. Such concern is proper for those we love and are called to shepherd.
Such burdens are never easy, but they are especially heavy when a fellowship suffers the brokenness of sin. Paul points to this when he writes, “Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant?” (2 Cor. 11:29). Here he describes the impact on him when one of his people falls into sin. Paul then experiences the burning indignation of love and heartache. In short, the apostle knows nothing of a ministry disconnected from the life of the people he shepherds and leads. He feels not only his own weaknesses, but the weaknesses of those whom he loves and serves. Thus, his own well-being is tied up with their well-being. This kind of ministry is exhausting!
And a final word from D. A. Carson in which he reminds us of what a real Christian leader or pastor should look like:
Here is no mere professional, running a superb organization from the comfort of a well-appointed, air-conditioned office, but a pastor attuned to the needs of even the least brother for whom Christ died. Organization and competent administration there are, as a close study of the comings and goings of Paul’s numerous assistants reveals; nevertheless, this apostolic ministry is not discharged with aloof detachment, but with flaming zeal, profound compassion, evangelistic fervor, and a father’s heart. Paul engages all his considerable intellectual and emotional power in his ministry to the whole church. Such an approach bears fruit; but it takes its toll in energy consumed and in deep involvement with people.
Paul’s love of others meant he shared the gospel, and he discipled the converts. This led not just to persecution and tribulation, but to continual heartache and grief. His pastoral heart was both large and breaking. He had the love that God has, and such true love always hurts.
I have known a bit of the heartache that comes with Christian ministry. Sometimes it seems too overwhelming, and all I can do over and over again is hand it back to him. I can see why some believers prefer not to get involved, be it in the culture wars, or over theological disputes, or with church conflicts, and so on.
It is a lot easier to just remain aloof and not get involved. But this was not how Paul did things. The love of Christ constrained him, as he put it earlier in 2 Corinthains, to preach Christ to others and shepherd the flock of God. That sort of service always comes with a price. It always becomes a heavy burden to bear.
But we are called to bear that burden, sharing it with Christ, our supreme burden-bearer.
