No Clever Tricks

First Thessalonians and chapter 2. We continue our studies there. And as we turn to that, just a moment of prayer:

Break thou the Bread of Life, dear Lord, to me,
As you did break the loaves beside the sea;
Here on the sacred page we seek you, Lord;
Our spirits long for you, O living Word![1]

Amen.

Chapter 2 and chapter 3 of 1 Thessalonians provide us with probably the most touching glimpse into the heart of the apostle Paul that is given anywhere in all of Scripture. If we were prepared to say that the book of Romans reveals the mind of the apostle, then we would want to say that 1 Thessalonians, in a particular and special way, reveals his heart. Already in chapter 1 we have sensed something of the intimacy that he feels for these Thessalonian believers. And as we go through chapter 2 and chapter 3, we’re going to see again how his mind works, how his emotions are moved, and how his soul is stirred.

The way in which he opens up this section is directly related to the historical context out of which the birth of the church in Thessalonica came. And that, of course, is recorded for us in the Acts of the Apostles, in Acts chapter 17, and I encourage you for just a moment to turn back there, where Luke records for us the way in which the apostle and his friends arrived in Thessalonica. At the beginning of chapter 17: “When they had passed though Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a Jewish synagogue.” And it was in that context that “Paul went into the synagogue, and on three [consecutive] Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving”[2] all about the Lord Jesus. Now, as a result of that, “some of the Jews,” we’re told in verse 4, “were persuaded,” and they “joined Paul and Silas, as did a large number of God-fearing Greeks and not a few prominent women.”

But at that point, it all goes quite crazy, and the end of their mission is quite ignominious. Indeed, it is downright inglorious. It is certainly not the kind of thing that we would expect or even anticipate if we ourselves had been given the privilege of opening up the Scriptures and preaching for a period of two or three weeks in a certain place. And we read in verse 5 that some of “the Jews were jealous; so they rounded up some bad characters from the marketplace”—just the kind of people that hang around waiting for a fight or hoping for some action—and they said, “Would you like some action?” And they said, “Oh, yes, certainly. What are we going to do?” And they said, “Follow us.” And having put these bad characters from the marketplace together, they “formed a mob,” and they “started a riot in the city.”

And so the birth of the church in Thessalonica is concluded with a public riot, the instigating of legal proceedings, and the humiliating departure of the evangelist and his sidekick from the city, under cover of darkness. That’s what we’re told in verse 10: “As soon as it was night, the brothers sent Paul and Silas away to Berea.” In other words, they had to slip out just when they got the opportunity to.

Now, given that Paul had left Thessalonica in this way, it would appear from reading 1 Thessalonians chapter 2 that the opponents of the apostle Paul and the opponents of the believers in Thessalonica had used the way in which he left Thessalonica, his hasty disappearance, as a basis for calling in question the validity of Paul’s ministry. They were dreadfully opposed to him—to the man, to his message—and they were at the same time calling in question his motives.

John Stott, writing of this, helpfully shows how a careful consideration of these opening verses here in chapter 2 provides us with an insight into the kind of slanderous accusations which were coming against the apostle Paul.[3] Indeed, without these slanderous accusations, the opening verses of chapter 2 don’t make any sense. There is no reason for him to defend himself against nothing. He is entering into a defense, an apologia, on account of the fact that people had been seeking to undermine the believers in Thessalonica and at the same time to undermine his ministry.

And the kind of thing that they would have been saying to the folks left behind was this: “Well, he ran away, didn’t he? I mean, he took off at night, we never saw him again, and he hasn’t been heard of since. He’s obviously,” they would be alleging, “insincere. He might think he’s different, but he’s just like the rest. He’s another of those phonies that are going up and down the Aegean highway, always looking for what they can get out of it, always hoping for some sex, some money, some prestige, some power. And this individual, upon whom you have placed so much attention, is no different from the rest. And so, when we opposed him, and when he realized that his goose was cooked, more concerned for his own skin than for your welfare, he waited till it was dark, and then he ran away. So much for your apostle, so much for his message, and so much for his motivation.”

Now, it would appear that some of the Thessalonicans had been buying in to just this kind of idea. Because the facts of Paul’s abrupt departure and the fact of his failure to return fitted the accusations which were being made against him.

So people were coming around saying, “Well, he left, didn’t he?”

“True.”

“And he’s not come back.”

“True.”

“Well, let me explain to you why he left and why he hasn’t returned: because he’s a phony. He’s a con man. He’s just like all the others who’ve come through town.”

And, of course, this grieved the apostle Paul. And he doesn’t answer these charges in chapter 2 and in the verses before us this evening out of a concern for his own self-interest, but he answers the charges out of a deep concern for two things: the truth of the gospel and the future of the church. That is what stirred his heart. That is what concerned him: that the gospel’s truth would be firmly fixed in the minds of his listeners and that the church would be seen to be going on like a mighty army under God.

Loved ones, I want to say to you tonight that you can generally tell where a person stands in leadership and in ministry of the gospel, in any generation, by those two issues: Is he or she concerned simply for themselves, or do we detect in them an underlying, soul-gripping, passionate concern for the truth of the gospel and for the future of the church?

Now, it is to this issue that he addresses himself in the verses that we consider now. I want to break them up under three headings.

An Honest Assessment

First of all, in verses 1 and 2, he acknowledges their ability to make an honest assessment of the details of their visit. If you want something to hang verses 1 and 2 on, you just can write in the margin or in your notes, “an honest assessment of why he’d been there.”

Now, there is no denying the fact that they had suffered and they had been insulted. The people were saying, you see, they’ve been insulted, and they suffered; and the reason they suffered, of course, they were using wrongly.

Now, this suffering and this insult we can find again by turning back to Acts chapter 16. The previous events, prior to arriving in Thessalonica, are recorded for us here as well. In Acts chapter 16 we have the account of Paul and Silas being thrown into the jail in Philippi. And they are absolutely humiliated by this, and they are insulted by it. Here they had come preaching the gospel, they had had their clothes torn off them, they were stripped naked, they were tied up, and they were publicly flogged. They were not given a trial, and then they were thrown in a dungeon, and their feet were fastened in the stocks—despite the fact that they were Roman citizens! Everything was absolutely done wrongly.

And you can imagine trying somehow or another to let people know that you are actually a fairly effective missionary and apostle, and you really are here from God, and you have a great future, and the church has a great future, and the gospel should be listened to—and the people are coming around saying, “You’ve got to be kidding! We saw you in Philippi. You were stark naked. They gave you a hiding. You were so bad they didn’t even give you a trial. They threw you in the jail, and they put you in the stocks. And you’re asking us to believe that you have a credible ministry?”

“Well,” says Paul, “there is no question that we suffered. There is no question that when we arrived in Thessalonica,” as he says in verse 2, “we were once again confronted with strong opposition.” That’s what we were noting there in chapter 17. But he says, “Despite those facts, we continued to preach the gospel irrespective of the consequences.” In other words, “We remained true to our convictions.”

People, unless they are disengaged of their senses, will only suffer for that in which they believe. People may be prepared to suffer for lesser factors, but Paul was concerned here to recognize that “we [were not afraid] to tell you his gospel in spite of strong opposition.” The phrase there, “we dared to tell you,” actually means “We were prepared to be outspoken concerning these matters.” The phraseology has to do with speaking freely, speaking openly, speaking fearlessly. In other words, he says, “You will recall that although we had had a hiding in the previous place, although we were not able to anticipate what would happen before we left, nevertheless, we were marked by outspokenness, by frankness, by plainness of speech, and all of this an indication of our integrity.”

Now, you will notice, perhaps, that in these first few verses, he says, “you know” a number of times. Indeed, he starts the chapter, “You know [this].” And then in verse 2 he says, “as you know.” And then again, in verse 5, he begins, “You know…” And then in verse 9: “Surely you remember…” And then again, in verse 10, “You are witnesses.”

Now, this is very, very important, because what he’s pointing out is that all the facts required for his vindication were common knowledge. His integrity has been revealed in his willingness to suffer for what he believes in and also to engage in ministry that was marked by nothing that was underhanded. He had nothing to hide. Nothing to hide.

This is the great concern in the political realm in our day. How can we possibly find someone to serve who has nothing to hide? Do we have ministers, do we have pastors, do we have leaders in our church who are hiding stuff from God, from themselves, from their families, from their friends, from their congregations? John Stott again:

Happy are those Christian leaders today, who hate hypocrisy and love integrity, who have nothing to conceal or be ashamed of, who are well known for who and what they are, and who are able to appeal without fear to God and the public as their witnesses! We need more transparency and openness of this kind today.[4]

And surely we would agree with that.

Yesterday’s newspaper carried all these dreadful accounts of the leadership of the three and a half million Catholics in Éire, in Southern Ireland, and the uncovering of yet another horrible train of misdemeanors on the part of established clergy—the dreadful, dreadful predicament of those who have everything to hide and lack this transparency.

Paul says, “You know, brothers, that our visit to you wasn’t a failure. People can say it was a failure. You know it wasn’t. Yes, there was suffering. Yes, there was opposition. But we want you to understand that our very integrity is to be seen in our willingness to be totally open with you and also to endure suffering for the sake of the gospel.”

So, he recognizes in verses 1 and 2 that they’re able to make an honest assessment of his coming to them.

Paul’s Present Appeal

Secondly, in verses 3 and 4, he speaks to the issue of his present appeal to them—the appeal that he and his colleagues are making. He says in verse 3, “The appeal we make does not spring from error or impure motives.” Let me read this, if I may, in Phillips’s paraphrase:

Our message to you is true, our motives are pure, our conduct is absolutely above board. We speak under the solemn sense of being [en]trusted by God with the Gospel. We do not aim to please men, but to please God who knows us through and through.[5]

“Our motives are pure; our conduct is absolutely above board.”

Now, look at the way he unpacks this. “How do you view yourself Paul? And what essentially is your ministry?” “Well,” he says, “here is our privileged responsibility: we are those who have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel. We are not in ourselves anything particularly slick. We’re not in ourselves particularly powerful. We are not of peculiar repute. There is nothing really about us that would make us distinctive or desirable by the masses of the people. The only thing that we can say is this: that somehow or another, God, in his mercy and in his wisdom, has chosen the likes of us, has approved us, to be entrusted with the message of the gospel.” That’s all that a pastor is. That’s all that a minister of the gospel is. He’s just an ordinary, flawed individual—just the same kind of person as other people. But God for some reason has chosen to approve him and to entrust him with the gospel. In other words, the pastor, the teacher, is not an owner; he is a steward.

Now, in addressing himself in this way, Paul is distancing himself from the many itinerant vagrants whom he also knew had been working the crowds. Let me quote from one commentator: “There has probably never been such a variety of religious cults and philosophic systems as in Paul’s day.” This was written before the late twentieth century. We might be able to rival it now.

East and West had united and intermingled to produce an amalgam of real piety, high moral principles, crude superstition and gross licence. Oriental mysteries, Greek philosophy, and local godlings competed for favour under the tolerant aegis of Roman indifference. “Holy men” of all creeds…

And that’s in quotes.

“Holy men” of all creeds and countries, popular philosophers, magicians, astrologers, crack-pots, and cranks; the sincere and the spurious, the righteous and the rogue, swindlers and saints, jostled and clamoured for the attention of the credulous and the sceptical.[6]

It’s got a very contemporary ring to it, that quote, doesn’t it? It was written generations before now. But think of this: “all creeds and countries, popular philosophers, magicians, astrologers, crack-pots, and cranks; the sincere and the spurious, the righteous … the rogue, [the] swindlers … [the] saints,” all “jostl[ing] and clamour[ing] for the attention of the credulous and the sceptical.” Is that not an apt picture of the late twentieth century?

You go in the bookstore, and you’re confronted by all these books on spirituality. Some are written by righteous men; some are written by rogues. Some are written by saints, and others are written by sinners. Some are written by Christians, and some are written by crackpots. And the man in the street, the woman in the street, wanders in and out with no possible way of adjudicating on them. “Well,” says Paul, “I want you to understand, for the sake of the gospel and the future of the church—I want you to understand three things: number one, our message is true; number two, our methods are above board; number three, our motives are pure.” And this in direct contrast to those who were marked by error, by impurity, and by dirty dealings.

Why is the message true? Because it is the message of God. “We’re not trying to please men but God. We are not speaking anything but the gospel which God has given us.” Let people come to us and accuse us of all kinds of things, but let them not accuse us of contriving the message or making it up. We’re not offering them Mary Baker Eddy as the supplement to the Bible. We’re not offering them the Book of Mormon. We’re not offering them a book about Hindu avatars. All we’re prepared to say is that the message by which we want to stand and upon which we take our stand is a message which is true, because it is the message of God. It is God’s message, not our message. We are merely the stewards of what is proclaimed.

“In the same way, our motives are not,” he says, “impure.” “We are not making an appeal to you on the basis of impure motives.” The word is used, actually, in 4:7 concerning sexual matters: “For God did not call us to be impure”—that is, to engage in sexual immorality—“but to live a holy life.”[7] And there is perhaps the assertion on the parts of some that when, in Acts chapter 17, and they preached, and “some of the Jews were persuaded … as did a large number of God-fearing Greeks and not a few prominent women,”[8] some of his opponents were probably prepared to say, “And the only reason you’ve got the women with you, Paul, is because of the fact that your motives are impure.” Paul says, “No, they’re not.”

And thirdly, “Our methods are not the kind of fraudulent stuff that you see on the other itinerant vagrants. We did not stoop to offering fraudulent blessings, nor did we stoop to deny the cost of discipleship.” If you want to identify the con men and the shams in our generation, let me tell you how you’ll know them: they are going around offering things to people which they can neither substantiate from Scripture nor produce, and/or suggesting to people that the Christian life makes no demands upon them at all and that you may know Christ, love Christ, and follow Christ without facing the hard edge of discipleship. Paul says, “We didn’t do that. We were unprepared to do that. Others may approach things in that way, and they will do so because they’re seeking to curry favor with men. But,” he says, “we are seeking to please God, who tests our hearts.”

Look at that statement in verse 4: “We[’re] not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts.” Do you realize that this is what it means to be in the ministry of the gospel? Why is it so easy to get it the wrong way round? We are not trying to please God but men, who don’t know our hearts. So easy to get it wrong. And here he gives us this wonderful example. The word dokimázō is the same word you get in 2 Timothy 2:15, where he urges Timothy, “Study to show yourself approved unto God.”[9] The reason he’s prepared to call Timothy to that level of approval is because he himself lives under that approval. And it is a picture here of those who have been tried and found fit for service. “We[’re] not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts.”

Their Past Approach

So, in verses 1 and 2, there is an honest assessment of his coming. In verses 3 and 4, he addresses the way in which they have made their present appeal. And in verses 5 and 6, finally, he refers to their past approach. You see, the tense changes. In verse 3, he’s in the present tense: “the appeal we make.” In verse 4: “On the contrary, we speak”—present tense. “We[’re] not trying,” present tense, “to please men but God.” Now verse 5: he then changes to the past tense. He says, “Now, here’s something else you know.” Past tense: “We never used flattery.”

Three things he says: “We did not use flattery. We said no to using flattery.” Kolakeía. It’s the only time it’s used in the whole New Testament. So he obviously decided to use it very purposefully. It’s never, ever used again in the whole of Holy Scripture. And the word here is expressive of the kind of methodology which one man uses to seek to gain influence over somebody else. They weren’t manipulators. He didn’t try and trick them. He didn’t try and fool them. “We did not,” he says, “use flattery.”

Secondly, “We did not wear masks to veil a sense of greed.” Do you notice that? “We didn’t use flattery, nor did we put on a mask to cover up greed.” They were not pretending to serve while all the time wishing to be served. They were not pretending to give while all the time wanting to get.

And finally, in verse 6 he says, “Nor did we live hungering for compliments.” This is a tremendous test of ministry. This is the test by which all who minister should be judged. You should feel free to assess ministry on the basis of these things: the man, his message, and his motives. Is he a flatterer in the way he uses the Bible? Does he seek to curry favor with those who are under his care? Does he endeavor to tell them what they want to hear so that they may love him for that and may do what he then calls them to? Is that what you get when you worship in this place? Is that what you find when you listen to your Sunday school teacher? Is that the sense that you get in your youth group? And how about when you get behind the scenes and you see what moves them? Are they using the opportunities of service simply to get things? While all the time appearing to want to give, they only want to get? And do they go up and down on the basis of whether they’re being praised or criticized? For you see, all three of these things are illicit ways of seeking to build ourselves up.

The stewards of the gospel—those who serve God in the cause of the gospel, then and now—are primarily responsible neither to the church nor to its boards but to God himself.

The stewards of the gospel—those who serve God in the cause of the gospel, then and now—are primarily responsible neither to the church nor to its boards but to God himself. I want you to understand that. That is not to say that within the framework of interpersonal relationships, within the context of the one-another ministries of the church, that those who are in leadership, those who have the privileges of pastoral ministry, those who fulfill the calling which I fulfill are somehow or another removed from all those one-another accountability factors. That is absolutely not so! We are brothers and sisters in Christ, and we’re accountable on that level.

But when you have said that, the minister of the gospel is not primarily responsible to the church or to any ecclesiastical structures established by the church—whether they are bishops or synods or whatever you like to call them. No! The minister of the gospel is on a much higher task than that, because the minister of the gospel is responsible to God himself. “We are not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts.” In other words, on the one hand, this is far more disconcerting, because God scrutinizes our hearts, God knows our secrets, and God’s standards are very high. On the flip side of that, it is really freeing to be in this situation, since God is more knowledgeable, more impartial, and more merciful than any being—human being—or ecclesiastical committee.

So, for example, you take the ministry of Jonathan Edwards—Jonathan Edwards, profoundly used of God, uniquely established in the cause of the gospel, and tremendously impactful as a result of the brain that God had given him and the ministry of the Word. He was eventually thrown out of his church because [he] had some little quirk that [they] didn’t like. What was he to say? Well, he was ultimately to recognize, as Paul does, when he writes to the Corinthians, in 1 Corinthians 4:3,

I care very little if I[’m] judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. My conscience is clear, but that does[n’t] make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait till the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and [he] will expose the motives of men’s hearts. [And] at that time each will receive his praise from God.

In other words, he says, “If you want to know how seriously I take my ministry, then understand this: it is far more significant to me,” says Paul, “that I will answer before the bar of God’s judgment than I will be led by the roller coaster of emotion which comes either from the adulation of the people or from the criticism of the people.” And yet so many pastors live tyrannized in that dilemma. They live their lives completely compelled by the longing for affirmation. And so they are ensnared by the desire for human adulation, or on the other hand, they live bowed down and crushed by the tyranny of human criticism.

Now, don’t misunderstand this. We’re not talking about individuals living above and beyond the pale of accountability, nor are we talking about stoical individuals who have no concern for what others may think. We’re talking about this: the task of the gospel is so significant and so immense and so profound that no seminary can ever make a pastor. No church can ever make a pastor. Only God can do that! And on account of that, it is God who will judge the motives of the heart. And whether a man cons everybody for all of his life and lives as a charlatan or whether he is marked by integrity through all of his days, Paul says, “Get ready for this: there is going to come a day when the judgment of God scrutinizes the man, his message, and his motives. And that,” says Paul, “is so significant that I refuse to be ensnared by a desire for human compliments, and I refuse to be tyrannized by the effect of human criticism.” And in that we have an amazing model for ministry.

Verses 7 and following provide further instruction for all who minister the Word of God and for all who receive that ministry. And so, may God make us wise together for his glory and for our good.

Let us pray together:

Our gracious God and loving Father, we thank you now for the privilege and opportunities of this day, which you have so graciously given us. We thank you for the health and strength which we enjoy. We thank you that all of our joy is touched with pain and with uncertainty. We thank you that shadows fall on even our brightest hours; that there are thorns on the beauty of rose trees in order to remind us that earth’s joys should not ensnare us but should merely prepare us for the day when we see you and are made like you.

We pray that your Word today may find a resting place within our hearts; that we would be diligent in doing your work in your way; that you will save us, Lord, from becoming con men, men pleasers, those who engage in the deeds of darkness and use their position as a cloak for their indiscretion.

Lord, it is a realistic fear, lest having preached to others, I myself should become a castaway.[10] O God, grant that we may be men and women of integrity in our motives and in our message and in the common things of life—its goings out and in. May we follow Paul’s example. May we know the fullness of your Spirit. May it please you to allow Parkside Church—a tiny place in the unfolding of your purposes—help us tonight to curl up small so that everyone may see what a great and majestic and holy and wonderful God you are.

We commit one another into your care and keeping through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

[1] Mary A. Lathbury, “Break Thou the Bread of Life” (1877). Lyrics lightly altered.

[2] Acts 17:1–3 (NIV 1984).

[3] John R. W. Stott, The Message of 1 and 2 Thessalonians: The Gospel and the End of Time, The Bible Speaks Today (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 1991), 45–46.

[4] Stott, 47.

[5] 1 Thessalonians 2:3–4 (Phillips).

[6] William Neil, The Epistle of Paul to the Thessalonians, The Moffatt New Testament Commentary (New York: Harper, 1950), 36.

[7] 1 Thessalonians 4:7 (NIV 1984).

[8] Acts 17:4 (NIV 1984).

[9] 2 Timothy 2:15 (paraphrased).

[10] See 1 Corinthians 9:27.