No Country for Old Micromanagers

“I went up … in order to make sure I was not running or had not run in vain.”

In the first two chapters of his earliest letter, the apostle Paul is concerned to establish the credentials of his gospel. The background: in Paul’s absence, religious Jews were encouraging the young Christians from the churches in Galatia to supplement their faith with vestiges of the now-obsolete Law of Moses. Paul recounts how, fourteen years after his first and only post-conversion visit to the birthplace of the Christian faith, he had chosen to return to Jerusalem once again. He also tells them why.

He wanted to make sure he “had not run in vain”.

Doubts and Perplexity

Do you read just a little bit of doubt into this statement? Is it possible after seventeen years of faithful ministry to the Gentiles, suffering perpetual persecution from Jews and occasional rejection and hostility from the recipients of his message as well, that Paul began to wonder if he had been preaching the right message?

I suppose it’s possible, isn’t it. We all have moments of doubt and perplexity. I’ve been reading the book of Job at the same time as Galatians, and you can certainly see both states of mind on display there. Job holds fast to certain things he knows to be true about himself and God, but other convictions are very much up for grabs. He’s really struggling, and his comforters are only making things worse. Perhaps you’ve had the occasional moment like that too, where you need reassurance about some very basic things.

Maybe, like Job, suffering for the gospel Paul preached was making him wonder if he might have been doing something wrong. Perhaps he visited the apostles and elders in Jerusalem to check with the respected spiritual authorities of his day whether he was really quite as orthodox as he thought himself to be, and to confirm whether his own version of the gospel was consistent with what other believers were preaching all over Jerusalem and Judea.

That could be what he means, couldn’t it?

Vain Ministry

I don’t think that’s necessarily the case. In fact, I think it very unlikely, especially after almost two decades of preaching truth received from the risen Christ. That would be an awful lot to walk back.

Now, Paul certainly had concerns about the effectiveness of his ministry from time to time. He expresses these throughout his letters. He did not want to preach the gospel unproductively and to no effect in the lives of those who heard it. When he wrote the Corinthians to rebut teachers who doubted the resurrection, he raised an alarming possibility: “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain.”

Of course, Paul knew the resurrection to be an indisputable fact. He himself bore witness to the glorified Christ; that revelation was the singular event that saved him and propelled him into a lifetime of making disciples for Jesus. But Paul’s concern was this: that if false teachers could successfully convince his converts in Corinth that Christ had not been raised from the dead, then all the value of Paul’s preaching to them would disappear in a moment. All his work would go to waste. So yes, Paul recognized that “running in vain” might be a real possibility for him.

Again, in writing a second time, Paul appealed to the Corinthians “not to receive the grace of God in vain”. He entertained the possibility that the ministry of reconciliation with which the Lord had tasked him might not bear fruit in every heart, and he was eager for all to whom he wrote to take advantage of the tremendous grace God had extended to them.

One more time. To the Philippians, Paul also wrote about the potential of futile ministry. He encouraged these converts to avoid grumbling and disputing and to hold fast to what he had taught them, in order that Paul might be proud that he did not run or labor in vain.

Out of Control

So then, Paul struggled with doubts about the long-term effectiveness of his ministry. There were factors in play in every city where he had preached the gospel that he could not control. False teachers might come in and sabotage his work. His converts might fall for their lies. Some of those who had professed might turn out to be fakes. Others would not reach maturity, as he earnestly hoped and prayed. He could write to them, he could instruct and appeal to their consciences. After that, he could only leave his concerns with the Lord.

It is with this reality in view that he wrote about the daily pressure of his “anxiety for all the churches”. He might have faithfully preached the word in Corinth, Galatia, Philippi and elsewhere, but the moment he left those cities, anything could happen to those who heard it. He did not want to run in vain.

Why Jerusalem?

What might ruin or invalidate Paul’s ministry to the Gentiles? What might render all his efforts vain after seventeen years of hard labor in the gospel? What made him go up to Jerusalem that second time? I think the second chapter of Galatians gives us a strong hint.

Paul’s instructions to all the churches he founded and taught were consistent, but he could not be sure that others outside his immediate orbit grounded their teaching and practice in the truth as he did. In fact, he had a fair bit of evidence they did not. We have already observed that as soon as he left any area of service, others who claimed to be Christians would come in, corrupt, adulterate and otherwise transform his work for the worse. This gave him legitimate cause for concern.

We can also see from Galatians that he had infrequent communication with the church in Jerusalem over the years and very little personal knowledge of what went on there, or even who was in charge. This chapter alone has four references to “those who seemed to be influential” or “pillars” in Jerusalem — James (the Lord’s brother), Peter (Cephas) and John. It’s apparent Paul had serious concerns that the apostles and elders whose primary ministry was to Jews might not be pursuing the same goals he was in precisely the same way. In verses 11-14, he tells the story of how he was compelled to rebuke Peter publicly in Antioch because he was not behaving consistently with the truth Paul preached, which, rather ironically, Peter himself had initiated in the house of Cornelius. It’s also apparent from his writings that Paul knew he would probably die for his faith, leaving his work in the hands of others. How could he possibly be sure they would continue to preach a gospel of justification by grace through faith while being relentlessly assailed by Judaic legalism? He simply could not know.

Running in Vain

So no, I don’t think Paul was in any doubt about the accuracy, orthodoxy or emphasis of his own gospel message. He had full confidence in those. What troubled him was the possibility that others would undermine, water down and compromise that message, mingling it with Judaism and thereby nullifying the grace of God and devaluing the cross of Christ. If that happened, he would indeed have run his race in vain.

Do you sometimes feel you might be running in vain? I’ve made a few investments in life that did not pan out the way I hoped, not all of them in the work of the Lord. The intensity of a man’s or woman’s commitment to a particular project, person or group is no guarantee it will pay off for eternity. Sometimes these investments are deeply personal and failure in those areas comes at great emotional cost. “How do you know, wife, whether you will save your husband? Or how do you know, husband, whether you will save your wife?”

After We’re Gone

The fact is that nothing we do in the service of Christ — whether at home, in church or in the world — is entirely under our control. The Lord’s work is no country for old micromanagers. Other wills are always involved: some irresolute, some indifferent, some downright malevolent, some simply determined to do things differently than I would. Will my efforts hold up over time? Will those I have encouraged to make the good confession stay true to it? Will snakes, wolves and roaring lions succeed in dragging off the weak and sickly lambs? Will those we love see through the falsehoods and sophistry that seem so obvious to us?

We cannot possibly know the answers to these questions. Once we have passed from the scene, we will have no input whatsoever into the eternal outcome. That’s not fatalism; it’s simply a reality even apostles had to live with.

What we can control is the foundation we build on (Christ), the materials we use — gold, silver, precious stones or, negatively, wood, hay and straw — and the quality of our work. What others build upon it after we are gone, we must learn to leave to the righteous Judge to evaluate.