Character is the Work
Recently, I was listening to a prominent Christian leader talk about the future of ministry. He shared trends and research about how things like AI and the pandemic are reshaping what small groups and preaching series ought to look like. He offered the audience new skills for ministering to a generation, for instance, who no longer wonder if they'll find answers at our churches, but if they'll find empathy.
It was really helpful.
Near the end, after more data and best practices, the speaker was asked what the last bit of advice he'd give attendees. He said, character. Spend twice as much time working on your character as you do on your content. It was a compelling thought. He went on to share about his desire to finish well. Eventually, he wants to leave his career, he said, "with my integrity intact." Like many ministry professionals, he's been deeply impacted by the ignoble collapses of other public church leaders. He wants to finish well so his work isn't in vain.
This final piece of advice struck me. While I can be quite the cynic at conferences and I can't claim to know his heart, the whole story, nor his given assignment at the conference, I do think his answer is revealing. It demonstrates a common misconception about the relationship between our work and our character.
In a time when it's routine for pastors to be fired, sued, and imprisoned for moral failings, character has become a kind of legacy security. We've begun to think about character as the amber preserving our life's work from decay. That's what haunted me that day. While we were told character was the most important, the bulk of our day was spent on systems, execution, and assessment. And left to myself, my typical work week looks about the same.
For many ministry professionals, our work consists of teaching, discipleship, and leadership. Our personal formation, we suppose, encases our sermons, counsel, and organization in good behavior (or at the very least not "disqualifying" behavior), so that they won't lose their veracity over time.
But what if that's not true?
What if character isn't just about the preservation of our legacy?
What if our character is the work?
Perhaps that's why the Apostle Paul told congregations in first-century Thessalonica that he and his colleagues "were ready to share ... not only the gospel of God but also our own selves" (1 Thessalonians 2:8). These ministers weren't investing in their character as career security. Their character was their ministry. In his book, Working the Angles, Eugene Peterson explains, “The work of the Christian leader is not primarily to run programs or manage ministries, but to embody a life of prayer, Scripture, and spiritual direction. Who the pastor is becomes the message as much as what the pastor says" (4).
Our work and our character are inseparable. Of course, that doesn't mean we are inseparable from our work. Instead, it means we embody our work. After all, Jesus didn't just send word of salvation to us, he was the Word made flesh (see John 1:14).
