There are– as far as I know, two ways to become indebted to someone. The first, and most obvious is to borrow from them. If Thomas loans you ten dollars for lunch, you are in his debt and will likely make some reasonable effort to repay that debt. The second way is to possess something that belongs to another. If I give you ten dollars with the expectation that you are to going to give it to Thomas, you are no less indebted to Thomas than if he had just bought you lunch. Knowing this you will certainly make some reasonable effort to pay what is owed. Of course, if it was only ten dollars you might not go to great lengths to track Thomas down. You would be content to hang onto the money until the next time you bumped into him. What I mean to say is that you would not feel that the debt was an excessive burden. But, what if I gave you one hundred dollars, or one thousand, or ten thousand? As the amount of the debt increased your burden would as well. So much so that you might well go to some rather extraordinary lengths in order to pass on to Thomas what I have given you in trust.
As I have written previously, Paul’s encounter with Jesus was part conversion and part commission. At the very same time as he came to faith in Christ, he received a call to take the name of Christ before gentiles, kings and the children of Israel. Paul’s experience on the Damascus road makes him a follower of Jesus and puts him in debt to people like the Romans to whom he writes this letter. Not because he owes them something out of his own pocket, but because like me giving you a ten dollar bill and asking you to pass it on, Jesus has given Paul the gospel and asked him to pass it on. The magnitude of the gift that Paul has been asked to pass on compels him to go to some rather extraordinary lengths. He cannot just sit on the gospel patiently waiting to share it with people when he bumps into them. He travels the length and breadth of the Mediterranean attempting to pass on what has been given to him. This is what he expresses when he writes, “I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish.”
It seems that Paul has been frustrated for sometime in his efforts to dispense with his debt towards the Romans. As he writes the first chapter of his letter he knows that this long season of frustration– of wanting to do something, but being unable to do it, is about to come to an end. He will at long last not only be able to share the gospel in the capital of the gentile world, but also to impart to the church in Rome some spiritual gift to strengthen them.
We might enter into ministry for any number of reasons– both good and bad, but no matter the ministry we are involved in, we will soon discover that there are few joys greater than seeing others strengthened in their faith. There is a curious economy at work here, and it is precisely this economy that makes ministry so exciting. The minister will often discover that the growth and strengthening that occurs is out of all proportion to the work which she did. She planted a mustard seed and now there is a great tree with branches enough for the birds and their nests. She mixed in a spoonful of leaven and now the dough is spilling out over the edges of the bowl. Paul knew that it wasn’t always this way. Some of the churches that he planted slid backwards from faith in Christ towards trust in the Law. Some of the churches he planted threatened to splinter into smaller and smaller pieces. But, he had seen the growth happen often enough that he believed it to be generally the case that if he sought to share some spiritual gift he would be rewarded by seeing growth in the lives fo those to whom he ministered. He believed God to be faithful, and if Paul did his part he expected to see lives transformed. Years of pastoral ministry have taught me that in times of discouragement– when we are all too aware of the work that is going in and the frustrations that we are experiencing, it is wise to look outwards. Farmers walk their fields. Cabinet makers run their hands over polished maple and oak. Mechanics listen to the purr of a finely tuned engine. Those engaged in gospel ministry step back and pray that God would give them eyes to see the trees that used to be mustard seeds.
Ministry, of course is not a one way street. It is not a matter of one person pouring everything in and then standing back to see what his labour has accomplished. We are always ministered to as we minister. Paul slams the brakes on one way ministry thinking. Yes, he wants to strengthen the Romans, but he also knows that he will be strengthened by them. There is no room for arrogance in the service of the gospel. Jesus blessed the little children. God chooses the least and the weak and the foolish to shame the wise. No servant of the gospel– not even the apostle Paul, can claim to always give and never receive.
A friend of mine was in the middle of a Sunday morning sermon when a thought hit him– that particular Sunday marked ten years since he began ministering to the congregation in front of him. The thought hit him with such force that it knocked him momentarily off course.
“Hey,’ he said, ‘I’ve been here ten years. Isn’t that great? I’ve been here ten years.”
The congregation responded with a smattering of applause.
“Ten years is a long time,’ he mused, ‘you know what needed to happed for me to say for ten years?”
The congregation waited patiently for his answer.
“I needed to grow up!”
They had seen some of his growth and they responded with joyful laughter.
“Do you know what else needed to happen for me to stay ten years?”
Again they waited for his answer.
“You needed to grow up!”
I don’t think either my friend or the church he served were thinking of Paul or the Romans in that moment, but they were rejoicing in the reality the Apostle describes. We are mutually strengthened by each other. Happy is the Christian who cares about others enough to strengthen them. Happier still the one who recognizes that others might strengthen him as well.