Mothers and Fathers
"Oh God, send us spiritual mothers and fathers, we beg you!" My eyes widened and my heart pounded. I'd never heard anyone ask God for this, but the pained, almost guttural plea came from a dear friend who lay prostrate on the floor. Many years later, I remembered his prayer when the reports came out that his boss, who had positioned himself as a "spiritual father" to younger Christian leaders, was fired for spiritual abuse.
Read 1 Thessalonians 2:1-12
In Acts 17, Luke tells us that when Paul visited Thessalonica, he preached in the synagogue for three weeks, persuading many to believe in Jesus, the Messiah. This provoked a violent counter-reaction, and the Christians sent Paul away before he was attacked. It raised a question among those who still lived there: was Paul a con artist who worked them over, then left them to deal with the consequences? Paul addresses their suspicion. Traveling celebrity speakers did use flattery to mask their greed and exploit their audiences. They told people what they wanted to hear so they could build a monument to their own glory. Before microphones, social media, and AI, people were using words to take advantage of each other. Paul also asks them to remember what they personally witnessed. The Thessalonians knew these men had just been flogged and jailed in Philippi, probably because they arrived in Thessalonica with bruises and a limp. They heard their plain speech, experienced their gentleness, and watched them stay up late at night, working hard so they wouldn't need money from these new believers. Their devotion to God and goodness toward others were so evident that no one could criticize how they lived. The imagery of a mother and a father isn't about seeking honor or demanding favors. Instead, he says he was like a mother who provides for her children from her own body. He says he was like a tender father, devoting himself to forming these new followers of Jesus to live as he did. While his default was self-sacrifice, mine is often self-promotion. I once went to Starbucks and bought a coffee so I could carry it into a meeting, and look important. Looking back, the futility of it makes me laugh. But I'm not sure I've stopped doing this kind of thing. I've just transitioned to more subtle maneuvers. Paul and his friends were motivated to live this way because they knew that God searched their hearts. Even if they fooled others, one day they would give an account to the one who knows everything. But even more, they wanted to preach God's gospel. How could they speak of a crucified Savior, who died for our sins, in order to benefit themselves at the expense of others? As Christ's apostles, or messengers, they understood that they represented the one who sent them. So just as Jesus shared his life with them, they shared their lives with the Thessalonians. Evangelism looks different when we know God sent us and even a beating can't stop us. We can all sense when someone is trying to sell us a spiritual pyramid scheme. But when someone's preaching is marked by selfless suffering and deep affection, it reminds people of Jesus. Not because we are super Christians, but because God is calling us into his own kingdom and glory. I wish I could pray like my friend, with that raw desperation for God to give us leaders we can respect. But maybe God will hear his prayer, and form us into the answer he was looking for.
What can you only learn about a person by spending time with them?
Who have you known that reminds you of Paul? If no one comes to mind, what do you wish you had experienced?
Paul thought it was good news that God saw his heart. Does it give you comfort, or fear?
If you need a mentor, ask God, "Who do I know that reminds me of Paul?" Reach out to them and offer to buy them coffee. If you feel prompted to mentor others, ask God, "What self-serving motives do you need to address in me before I serve someone else?" Then reach out to someone who might be longing for a mentor, and offer to buy them coffee.