A James Bond film, Mission Impossible, or one of the Bourne movies? The kind where things are moving from the opening scene and the story carries real momentum.
If one of the gospels were turned into action flick, Mark would be the script. It moves quickly, has lots of movement, and gets straight to the point. There is no warmup, no stretching beforehand, no long preamble. It is like the starter’s gun at the beginning of a race and we are off.
Mark begins like this:
“The beginning of the good news about Jesus the Messiah, the Son of God.” (Mark 1:1)
That single line acts as both introduction and purpose statement. It tells us what the whole book is about before anything else is said. Like the opening line of a great novel, it draws us in. Except this isn’t fiction. This is the announcement of a real person and the purpose for which he came.
Mark doesn’t include genealogies, birth stories, or any post-resurrection events. His focus is clear and deliberate. He wants to announce and show that Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of God. The book is centred on who Jesus is, what he does, and what it means to follow him.
The word gospel (euangelion in the Greek) means good news. In the first century, good news would be publicly proclaimed when there was a military victory or a royal announcement. You can picture the town crier calling out the news of the day in the streets. In that sense, Mark is like a paper boy standing on the corner calling out the headline,
“Good news. Jesus Christ, the Messiah, the Son of God has arrived.”
But this good news is greater than a victory in battle or the birthday of an emperor. This is the announcement of God’s King and the fulfilment of long-awaited expectation and hope.
The good news is not merely an event. It is a person. Jesus himself.
Notice the titles Mark gives him. Messiah. Christ. Son of God. These are not polite honourifics. They are identity claims. They tell us that Jesus is not simply another religious teacher or prophet. He is uniquely connected with God and shares in God’s own identity.
From the first sentence, Mark wants us to know who stands at the centre of this story. Everything else in the book hangs from this opening declaration.
Would it surprise you to learn that one of the greatest preachers in Christian history, the so-called ‘Prince of Preachers’, struggled with depression throughout his life and ministry?
Charles Haddon Spurgeon, pastor of the Metropolitan Tabernacle in 19th-century London, preached to thousands weekly, wrote extensively, and continues to shape preachers today. Yet behind the sermons, quotes, and books was a man who often walked through deep fog and valleys of darkness.
I have known for many years that Spurgeon battled various health concerns, and at least a little depression, but I hadn’t realised how pervasive it actually was. In reading Spurgeon’s Sorrows by Zack Eswine I gained a better picture of the man but also the depths to which his depression and anxiety impacted his life. The other surprising thing about this was how public and how often he spoke about it. This short little volume (just over 100 pages) really opens the reality of mental illness not just for believers but also for pastors. I know it’s not talked about often, if at all, and this book is so helpful and insightful for all saints and sufferers.
Our churches are full of people who are going through depression, anxiety, and all ranges of mental illness. We may not see it while interacting with them on a Sunday morning, but they sit there, often silently, battling the melancholy of the mind. Older people carrying the weight of loneliness, middle-aged adults questioning their position in life, young people navigating their identity and uncertain future. They may not look depressed but are sure to be there in the pews.
As Christians it is important to talk about this. The Psalms do. So does Job. So does Elijah. So does Paul. And so does Spurgeon. One reason I found this book helpful was the normalising of this conversation without reducing it to Christian cliches or simplistic solutions.
To give you an idea of the depth of Spurgeon’s struggle he once said,
“The mind can descend far lower than the body, for in it there are bottomless pits. The flesh can bear only a certain number of wounds and no more, but the soul can bleed in ten thousand ways, and die over and over again each hour.”
He knew the darkness that makes it hard to pray, to preach, to feel anything at all. That numbness that comes over us when walking through an unending fog. He writes about this kind of depression as something that comes uninvited and stays longer than is welcome. And yet, in all of this, he saw no contradiction between faith and depression. He writes elsewhere, “Depression of spirit is no index of declining grace”.
This is encouraging for us as believers. It’s comforting to hear this from someone who has lived faithfully under the weight of this burden. How often are we prone to think such a thought or such a condition may disqualify us of our belief? But it is not so!
We walk with Christ in the valleys and on the mountaintops and everywhere in between.
Eswine writes with care and warmth. He doesn’t overreach. He lets Spurgeon speak and then offers reflections that feel more like a conversation.
In one part of the book Eswine lists various helps that Spurgeon would undertake to help him recover from these periods of flatness, which again was really helpful. But he goes on to talk about how,
“The melancholy life thrives when it runs marathons instead of sprints, or when it sprints often, only to rest often. You needn’t try to do “the most things” in “the fastest ways” anymore. To resist this is to have seasons of rest and nature forced upon us by breakdown.”
This is helpful for all of us who find ourselves running too fast and living on the edge of our limits. Whether it’s burnout, exhaustion, or anxiety, there is the invitation to slow down and let go of that performance mentality.
At times Spurgeon himself described what it was like when the overwhelm was upon him.In a sermon called The Christian’s Heaviness and Rejoicing he preached these words:
“I was lying upon my couch during this last week, and my spirits were sunken so low that I could weep by the hour like a child, and yet I knew not what I wept for…”
How about that!? How raw. How open. How vulnerable and honest. It’s not the kind of thing we would hear out of a 21st-century preacher would we?
The book, thankfully, doesn’t offer neat answers, tied up firmly like a shoelace. It doesn’t promise that darkness will lift, but what it does do is point to Christ. It points to Christ to declare that He is the one who truly understands what we may be going through.
I would recommend this book to anyone, it’s a must read. It’s five stars. If you’re a pastor it will do your own soul a truckload of good, and also help you walk with those who suffer from mental illness themselves. If you’re someone who experiences depression, or are in it now, then this book gives you a helpful and faithful voice to that which you struggle with. And if you walk with those who do walk the road of mental illness then this book might help you understand it a little more.
To close I can’t but leave you with one of my favourite quotes from Spurgeon about suffering and depression. While speaking about God providing all our needs from Philippians 4:19 he preaches,
“Then comes our need in suffering, for many of us are called to take our turn in the Lord’s prison camp. Here we need patience under pain and hope under depression of spirit. Who is sufficient for furnace-work? Our God will supply us with those choice Graces and consolations which shall strengthen us to glorify His name even in the fires! He will either make the burden lighter, or the back stronger—He will diminish the need, or increase the supply.”
Amazing.
How great that the Lord our God is with us through the troughs of life and will indeed supply us with everything we need.
I’ve been toying around with poetry lately, both as a fun little exercise and something to learn and improve my writing.
I wrote the following after reflecting on Matthew 14:23, where Jesus, even after all the ministry and miracles, withdraws alone to pray. I suspect many of us live in the tension of hurry and stillness, this is a kind of prayer from that place. An invitation to slow down and respond out of the rest in his presence.
Pull Up A Pew
Driven, my heart beats fast and faster Hurried, from one to the next The urgent crowds out my time and place To sit, be still, and seek your face.
The mind, it races on and on Thinking, what I ought to do So much, so many, so few pursue But here you call, pull up a pew.
You stopped and went with task after task Up the mountain, where in the Father you bask Teach me your ways, for I forget Instead I find I just project.
I want to stop and pray my Lord To find the rest you promise so To leave the work in your hands As you lead me to the silent lands.
After dismissing the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. Well into the night, he was there alone. – Matthew 14:23
There’s something particularly human about opening the Bible and seeking to make sense of it for others. For pastors, that moment of sermon preparation isn’t just about information or knowledge transfer, it’s about formation, for the preacher and the people who hear it. Now, however, we need to deal with AI. It’s fast. It’s helpful. And, it’s kind of fun too!
But, it also raises deeper questions about our pastoral and ministerial calling, especially when it comes to the slow and patient work of preaching and shepherding others in the way of Jesus.
Recently, I’ve listened to two podcast episodes (here and here) from the team at the Expositors Collective (who I’d recommend you follow) and been reflecting on AI, sermon preparation, and its wider use in church ministry.
Tools or Crutches
Tools abound for pastors and ministry leaders of churches. Whether it’s Bible software, commentaries, whiteboards, Canva, or various books and study guides, there’s plenty out there. AI fits into this category. A tool. It can structure meetings, summarise transcripts, brainstorm sermon series, and tidy up emails. It’s like a digital intern who doesn’t need smoke-o.
But there is a tipping point. And for some that might be further down the track than others. Nevertheless, the tipping point is when the tool becomes a crutch, something that ends up doing the deep work that is part of the calling of gospel ministry–the exegesis, illustration, sermon outlining, the writing, even. This tipping point comes when we trade formation for efficiency. And it is a poor trade. We may well save time, but what we risk is the personal formation of our soul and a disservice to our people.
Sermons are lived, they are to be ‘in’ us, they are to be lifted up in prayer, and spoken through the Spirit by a person, not a prompt.
Presence Over Productivity
Of course, AI promises productivity. And it’s a performance trap for us too. In some areas, like admin, research, and note-making, it’s certainly very helpful. But ministry isn’t measured by these things, nor is it measured by performance and efficiency. It’s measured in faithfulness, presence, and love for others. Those in the church who are dealing with challenge, hardship, grief, health concerns, financial difficulty, or a dark night of the soul don’t need a TED Talk crafted message, they need a pastor who has sat with the text, prayed through the text, and then communicates through the work of the Spirit.
And don’t get me wrong, I’m not some Luddite with anti-tech sensibilities. I’m engaging with AI tools in many areas of life, including church ministry. But we’ve got to remind ourselves that our calling is to shepherd not to massage content in ChatGPT.
I suppose, the danger isn’t really AI itself, it’s what it might slowly be doing to our hearts as we build faster content but remain less formed and wise in the process.
Discernment In Discipleship
My point is that we’re not here to create fear or hype about AI. Every generation is already using it to some degree, and those digital natives among us are well beyond this being ‘new’. Our job is more about wisdom and discernment than it is to give some moral judgement on these technologies. It’s to help people realise that following Jesus may not be the road of shortcuts and speed.
We need to help our churches, our people, see the difference between information and wisdom. To be able to sit in the deep with God, and let him do the work within us over a long period of time. Outsourcing formation won’t get us very far, but embracing slow discipleship, the unhurried way of Jesus will.
So, yes, we use these tools. But we realise that this is what they are. The question of challenge is whether I am shaping this tool or is it shaping me?
Christopher Ash’s The Priority of Preaching outlines a vision for pastoral ministry that puts preaching front and centre. According to Ash, a pastor’s main responsibility is to feed the congregation through diligent and faithful preaching. This is not an add-on or bit part to ministry but at the core of it. In this little gem of a book, as I’ve already written about, Ash understands the priority, graciousness, urgency, and community aspects of preaching. Here I’m focussing on how, like a good meal, the pastors views preaching, using it to nourish and shape the hearers.
Ash uses the image of the pastor as a shepherd who feeds the flock through the Word. Drawing on the example of John 21, where Jesus commissions Peter to “feed my sheep” (John 21:17), Ash suggests that pastoral ministry centres on delivering God’s Word in a way that sustains and strengthens the church. Preaching is not just one task among many; it is the primary way a pastor fulfils the call to shepherd God’s people. The words of Paul to Timothy echo this focus: “Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction” (2 Timothy 4:2). For Ash, preaching is the pastor’s highest responsibility, and it’s a role that calls for dedication, preparation, and humility.
The shepherd’s role is also one of “borrowed authority,” as Ash puts it. This authority doesn’t rest in the pastor’s own wisdom or personal charisma but is grounded in the Word of God. Ash warns that preaching is “costly,” because it requires the pastor to set aside personal ambition and serve as a messenger. This humility is vital, as James 3:1 reminds us: “Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.” The authority that comes with preaching is given from God, and it calls pastors to treat the pulpit with a sense of reverence, understanding that they are accountable to God for how they handle His Word.
One of Ash’s strongest points is that pastoral ministry, centred on preaching, is about leading people to grace. Preaching isn’t primarily about moral instruction or behaviour change; it’s about continually pointing people back to the grace of God, bringing them back to the gospel. This is what sustains. This is what transforms. This emphasis on grace aligns Titus 2:11-12, which teaches that “the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to all people. It teaches us to say ‘No’ to ungodliness and worldly passions.” For Ash, the pastor’s call is to regularly remind the congregation that grace is at the heart of the Christian life. This is the true “food” of the flock, helping them grow in faith and godliness.
Ash’s perspective on preaching as a form of shepherding challenges us to think about ministry not as a collection of tasks but as a singular calling to nurture and sustain God’s people through the Word. This vision pushes back against the idea that a pastor’s role is primarily administrative or focused on personal connections. While those are important aspects, Ash argues that the heart of the role is to be a steward of grace through preaching. This focus calls pastors to prioritise their study, prayer, and preparation for the pulpit above other activities. It echoes the approach of the apostles in Acts 6:4, who, despite the demands of church leadership, committed themselves “to prayer and the ministry of the word.”
This view also has practical implications for how pastors approach their work. Effective pastoral ministry requires a commitment to feed the church regularly and intentionally through the Word. This means more than just delivering a message each week; it involves shepherding the church toward spiritual maturity, addressing encouragement and correction where needed. It’s in line with Paul’s charge to the Ephesian church to “equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God” (Ephesians 4:12-13). Preaching is a means in which God uses to guide the church toward unity and maturity.
However, this isn’t all about the congregation either. This perspective encourages pastors to approach their calling with humility, and also with the need of grace. It’s one thing to deliver a sermon, having spent time in God’s Word during the week, but it’s another to make sure it is in you. It is shaping and nourishing me as the preacher. I, more than anyone else, know the grace I need each and every week. And with the responsibility, the care, and the excitement of getting up there on a Sunday morning I know more than anyone else in front of me how much of that grace God has given during the week. To preach with conviction and to authentically will mean the need to be walking closely with God throughout.
To finish this series of reflections on this book by Ash it is a reminder that pastors are not just communicators or leaders, but that we are people who dispense grace. To keep the gospel central to our own lives and the lives of those we shepherd.
