Over the past 20 years, readers of major Christian magazines have been treated to a tidal wave of seminary advertisements pro­moting an arsenal of “professional min­istry degrees”. The unstated message is clear. Possessing an “advanced” profes­sional qualification is a strategic move for those desiring upward mobility in a com­petitive spiritual marketplace. Yet what does this trend towards, as David Wells describes it, the “D.Min-isation of the ministry”, say about the values that shape our expectations of church leadership?

In today’s society, we’re accustomed to benefiting from the services of specialised professionals. But should we expect those engaged in pastoral ministry likewise to serve their congregations as professionals? And is there an irreconcilable tension between the culture of professionalism and a Christian view of church leadership?

Opinion remains divided. Our theo­logical institutions appear to have no qualms with pastoral ministry as profes­sion, if practical theology subjects entitled “Spiritual formation for professional min­istries” are anything to go by. Yet, in his recent book, Brothers, We Are Not Professionals, John Piper cries out, “God, deliver us from the professionalisers!”

Can we afford to dismiss this impas­sioned plea as melodrama, or is there gen­uine cause for caution? Have we been naïve in adopting within our churches a mindset that is not just neutral, but aggressively opposed to a Christian worldview?

Perhaps part of the difficulty lies in arriving at a precise definition of what we mean by “professionalism”. Once the term was restricted to a narrow group of specialisations (like law and medicine). In theory, professionals offered their honed skills self-sacrificially.

Yet over time, many of the positive con­notations that used to be associated with professionalism have been lost. For instance, today when we say that someone has completed a task professionally, we might mean little more than a job well done, measured by some objective criteria.

Within a church context, this might mean avoiding shoddy sermon preparation, sending out a letter of welcome to a newcomer on decent stationery, or dress­ing appropriately on pastoral visits. So we must go beyond this sense of diligent, careful conduct to uncover aspects of the culture of professionalism that galls the likes of John Piper.

The culture of professionalism is not only sympathetic towards, but actually endorses careerism, self-seeking exploita­tion and upward mobility. This pursuit of naked ambition rings alarm bells for Christians who worship a Saviour who came to serve, not to be served.

Professionals sell their skills (but not them­selves) to people who are classified as clients, patients or customers.

What is the Bible’s attitude towards this form of professionalism? Perhaps we need look no further than the Apostle Paul.

Paul was no stranger to religious professionalisers. His response to religious professionalism in Corinth was a devas­tating critique of pastoral ministry thought of as a “profession”. Indeed, Paul is adamant: the only faithful response of God’s ambassadors must be to adopt a radically counter-cultural stance, and not give in to the compromise of cultural adoption. A selection of the metaphors Paul uses in his letters to the Corinthians will give us a glimpse into his damning indictment upon religious professional­ism.

First, Paul describes those engaged in pastoral ministry as weak, simple, lowly, fools; outsiders within their society (1 Cor. 4:10; 2 Cor. 10-13). Paul knew that to proclaim and embody a gospel of fool­ishness would be suicidal for those with career aspirations as religious profession­als, especially in a world that despises the weak, meek and self-effacing. Paul’s description of pastoral ministry would have been highly inflammatory for reli­gious professionals within his Corinthian audience, for whom their primary objec­tive would have been the preservation of honour through honed rhetorical skills.

Second, lest one take Paul’s comments about the folly of pastoral ministry as merely ironic self-deprecation for the sake of scoring a point against his detractors, he says that church leaders must also prepare to be regarded as “the scum of the earth, the refuse of the world” (1 Cor. 4:13).

Moreover, God’s ambassadors must prepare to be ridiculed in the knowledge that it is God who actively superintends this public humiliation (1 Cor. 4:9). Yet Paul willingly subjects himself as a living sacrifice to this treatment. Why? Because he knows that just as Jesus was crucified in weakness, God’s chosen model for revealing His wisdom is through the vehi­cle of weakness in His heralds, which simultaneously exposes the folly of the world (2 Cor. 12:10, 13:4, 13:9).

Third, rather than maintaining a “pro­fessional distance” from their “clients” in Thessalonica, Paul, Silas and Timothy not only shared the message of the gospel, but also their lives with their flock (1 Thess. 2:8). Their lives embodied the content of their message. They were prepared to know and love their flock. Like our Saviour, they abandoned self-preservation to the point of suffering on their behalf (Jn 10:11; 2 Cor. 1:6).

While there are some aspects of professionalism culture that are consistent with a biblical view of church leadership, such as diligent preparation and a work ethic that strives to honour God with the gifts He has granted His servants, Paul’s teaching is overwhelming: the mindset of religious professionalism is diametrically opposed to the mindset of those who desire to faithfully serve as under-shep­herds of God’s flock.