The Pedagogy of Jesus: Recovering the Way of the Master Teacher

Beyond the Pulpit: Teaching, Mentorship, and the Formation of a People Who Follow Jesus

One of the most significant questions facing contemporary homiletics is whether the modern church has gradually elevated one dimension of Jesus’ ministry—public proclamation—above the larger vocation that gave proclamation its purpose. In many congregations, the pastor’s primary responsibility has become the preparation and delivery of a weekly sermon. The congregation assembles, receives instruction from a platform, and returns to ordinary life until the following gathering. Spiritual growth is often measured through attendance, sermon engagement, and familiarity with biblical teaching. While public proclamation has an undeniable place within the biblical tradition, this arrangement deserves careful examination against the actual ministry of Jesus and the patterns of the earliest Christian communities.

Jesus certainly preached. The Gospels describe him teaching in synagogues (Mark 1:21–22), addressing crowds (Matt 5–7), and proclaiming the kingdom throughout Galilee (Mark 1:14–15). Yet the remarkable feature of his ministry is how little of his work can be adequately described by the modern concept of delivering a weekly sermon. Jesus called people to follow him, not merely to listen to him. He shared meals, traveled with his disciples, interpreted Scripture along the road, confronted their misplaced ambitions, involved them in ministry, corrected their misunderstandings, and eventually entrusted them with responsibility for others. His ministry was lived in proximity to those he was forming. The proclamation of truth was central, but proclamation belonged to a much larger process of discipleship.

The contrast becomes even more striking in Acts 2:42–47. Luke describes the first community of believers as devoted to the apostles’ teaching, fellowship, the breaking of bread, and prayer. The Greek verb proskartereō (προσκαρτερέω), expressed here as the participle proskarterountes, communicates sustained devotion or persistent participation. Teaching was essential, but it was embedded within a shared life characterized by meals, generosity, prayer, mutual responsibility, and daily fellowship. Public teaching and household gatherings operated alongside one another (Acts 2:46; 5:42). The earliest church was not simply an audience gathered around gifted communicators; it was a community being formed around the risen Messiah.¹

This does not mean the first-century church possessed no recognizable preaching ministry, nor does it establish that every congregation must reproduce the social arrangements of Jerusalem. The New Testament repeatedly emphasizes public instruction (Acts 20:7–12; 1 Tim 4:13; 2 Tim 4:2), and historical developments in Christian worship are considerably more complex than a simple movement from homes to auditoriums. Nevertheless, we should distinguish the biblical legitimacy of public preaching from the modern tendency to make sermon delivery the organizing center of pastoral ministry.

In some contemporary settings, the pastor has become an increasingly distant religious professional whose principal contact with the congregation occurs through a microphone. The congregation knows the preacher’s voice, illustrations, opinions, and theological positions, yet may have little opportunity to observe the preacher’s life, participate in ministry alongside that leader, or experience personal spiritual mentorship. We have become highly proficient at constructing platforms for teaching while sometimes neglecting the relationships through which teaching becomes embodied.

This raises a difficult but necessary question: If our model of pastoral ministry produces effective public speakers but few mature disciples capable of discipling others, have we preserved the form of proclamation while neglecting its intended purpose?

John Stott’s Between Two Worlds appropriately identifies the preacher’s responsibility to bridge the world of Scripture and the world of contemporary hearers. Yet the biblical picture suggests that the bridge cannot be constructed through communication alone. The shepherd must also be present among the sheep. Preaching should not become a substitute for the personal, relational, and communal formation that characterized the ministry of Jesus.²

The formation of disciples is not an innovation introduced by Jesus in the first century. It belongs to the larger biblical story of God’s intention to dwell among humanity and form a people who reflect his character within creation.

Genesis 1:26–28 describes humanity as created in the ṣelem (צֶלֶם), or image, and dĕmût (דְּמוּת), or likeness, of God. Ancient Near Eastern royal ideology frequently associated kingship with the representation of divine authority, while divine images could symbolize a deity’s presence and rule. Genesis places this representative vocation upon humanity itself, male and female alike. Rather than restricting divine representation to a particular earthly king, the narrative identifies human beings as those commissioned to reflect God’s purposes throughout creation.³

This vocation develops through Israel’s covenant calling. Exodus 19:5–6 identifies Israel as a treasured possession, a kingdom of priests, and a holy nation. The priestly imagery is significant because Israel’s calling was never exhausted by its own religious preservation. Israel was to embody Yahweh’s character among the nations, mediating knowledge of the true God through its worship, justice, covenant loyalty, and communal practices.

The theme of divine dwelling accompanies this vocation. Yahweh commands Israel to build a sanctuary so that he might dwell among them (Exod 25:8). Jeremiah anticipates a renewed covenant in which God’s instruction is written upon the hearts of his people (Jer 31:31–34). John’s Gospel identifies Jesus as the Word who became flesh and dwelt among humanity (John 1:14), employing the verb skēnoō (σκηνόω), which evokes the language of dwelling or tabernacling. Finally, Revelation 21:3 announces the consummation of this trajectory: God’s dwelling is with humanity.

The goal is not merely that people receive correct information about God. God forms a covenant people who know him, reflect his character, and participate in his purposes. Discipleship therefore belongs to the theological structure of the entire biblical narrative. It concerns the recovery and fulfillment of humanity’s vocation as God’s image bearers through Jesus Christ, the definitive image of God (Col 1:15).

Ancient education was not ordinarily understood as the detached communication of information by an isolated lecturer. Mesopotamian scribal training involved memorization, copying, repetition, correction, and the progressive acquisition of practical competencies. Evidence from Old Babylonian scribal exercises indicates that education frequently operated through apprenticeship and household instruction, although more formal scribal settings also existed. Knowledge was transmitted through sustained relationships and repeated participation in the activities associated with a particular vocation.⁴

Israel’s covenant traditions likewise emphasize formation within ordinary life. Deuteronomy 6:4–9 instructs parents to teach Yahweh’s commandments to their children while sitting at home, traveling, lying down, and rising. The Hebrew šānan (שָׁנַן), used in Deuteronomy 6:7, communicates diligent instruction or impressing something upon another. The point is not that Israel should occasionally offer religious lectures to its children, but that covenant identity should permeate the daily rhythms of the household.

The prophetic narratives provide another analogy. The bĕnê hannĕbîʾîm (בְּנֵי הַנְּבִיאִים), or “sons of the prophets,” appear in communities associated with Samuel, Elijah, and Elisha (1 Sam 19:18–24; 2 Kgs 2:3–5; 4:38; 6:1). Although the expression “school of the prophets” may suggest more formal educational institutions than the texts warrant, the narratives reveal communities in which prophetic identity and vocation were cultivated through association with recognized prophetic leaders.

The succession of Elijah and Elisha is particularly illuminating. Elijah’s mantle, ʾadderet (אַדֶּרֶת), becomes a sign of Elisha’s calling (1 Kgs 19:19), while 2 Kings 2 describes the transmission of prophetic responsibility in the context of Elisha’s continuing allegiance to his master. Elisha requests a double portion of Elijah’s spirit, language that evokes the inheritance of a principal heir rather than simply a request to perform twice as many miracles. The mantle becomes a visible symbol of continuity, but the narrative ultimately emphasizes the presence and empowerment of Yahweh.

The theological relevance for pastoral ministry is considerable. Leadership was not simply the possession of specialized religious knowledge. It involved forming others who could continue the work after the mentor was gone. The measure of Elijah’s legacy was not how many people had heard him speak, but whether the prophetic vocation continued through Elisha.

The calling of the first disciples challenges some of the most comfortable assumptions of contemporary church life. In Mark 1:16–20, Jesus encounters Simon and Andrew while they are fishing and calls them to follow him. Mark records that they immediately leave their nets. Jesus then calls James and John, who leave their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants.

The Greek verb aphiēmi (ἀφίημι), used for their leaving, can convey releasing, abandoning, or leaving something behind. Mark employs the adverb euthys (εὐθύς), “immediately,” emphasizing the urgency of their response. Luke 5:11 strengthens the imagery, describing the disciples as leaving everything and following Jesus.

This is not merely a commitment to add religious instruction to an otherwise unchanged life. Jesus’ invitation reorganizes their vocational identity, daily schedule, social relationships, and future expectations. They are not signing up for a weekly Bible study. They are entering the life and mission of a rabbi whose calling will demand an entirely different ordering of their priorities.⁵

The language of discipleship in the Gospel tradition is important. The Greek mathētēs (μαθητής), “disciple,” identifies a learner or follower, while akoloutheō (ἀκολουθέω), “to follow,” frequently communicates the concrete act of accompanying Jesus and the deeper allegiance that accompaniment represents. The Hebrew term talmid (תַּלְמִיד), meaning student or disciple, provides a helpful Jewish conceptual parallel, although the detailed educational structures of later rabbinic Judaism should not simply be projected backward onto Jesus’ ministry.

Later rabbinic literature offers evidence of master-disciple relationships involving close association, observation, and the imitation of a teacher’s conduct. These materials illuminate broader Jewish traditions of learning but were compiled after the lifetime of Jesus and must be used with historical caution. The Gospel narratives themselves, however, offer sufficient evidence to establish that Jesus’ discipleship involved sustained personal participation rather than periodic attendance at formal instruction.⁶

The distinction becomes especially significant in Mark 3:13–15. Jesus appoints the Twelve so that they might be with him, hina ōsin met’ autou (ἵνα ὦσιν μετ’ αὐτοῦ), and so that he might send them out, hina apostellē autous (ἵνα ἀποστέλλῃ αὐτούς). Presence precedes mission. Their formation takes place through proximity to Jesus before they are commissioned to represent him publicly.

This raises a challenging comparison with contemporary theological education. A residential seminary or intentional discipleship community may, in some respects, resemble the immersive learning environment of the Gospel narratives more closely than a congregation organized almost exclusively around weekly attendance. Students study Scripture, share life, wrestle with theological questions, receive correction, and prepare for a vocation that reshapes their priorities.

Yet even seminary education can reproduce the very problem under consideration when it becomes primarily the accumulation of academic credits, detached from spiritual mentorship, communal life, and actual ministry practice. The greater challenge is not to turn every Christian into a full-time seminary student. It is to recover the seriousness of Jesus’ call to discipleship within the ordinary circumstances of Christian life.

Jesus did not explicitly require every follower to abandon their occupation. Some continued to maintain households, support his ministry, and serve within existing social relationships (Luke 8:1–3; 19:1–10). Peter himself appears fishing again in John 21. Therefore, the command to leave the nets should not be universalized into a prohibition against ordinary employment. Nevertheless, the underlying demand remains uncompromising: no occupation, possession, family obligation, or former identity may retain ultimate authority over the call of Jesus. Luke 9:57–62 and 14:25–33 make this especially clear. Following Jesus requires a willingness to relinquish competing allegiances. His teaching is not framed as a convenient religious supplement to an otherwise autonomous existence.

This also illuminates Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28–30. He invites the weary to take his zygos (ζυγός), or yoke, upon themselves and learn from him: mathete ap’ emou (μάθετε ἀπ’ ἐμοῦ). The term zygos could signify a literal yoke, but it also functions metaphorically for obligation or submission to instruction. Jewish wisdom traditions offer important parallels, including Sirach 51:26, which invites learners to place their necks under the yoke of wisdom.

Jesus’ yoke is described as chrēstos (χρηστός), kind or well-suited, and his burden as elaphron (ἐλαφρόν), light. This does not mean discipleship requires little commitment. Matthew’s Gospel contains demanding teachings about self-denial, faithfulness, and costly allegiance. The distinction is that Jesus offers a form of discipleship grounded in his own character, authority, and provision of rest. The yoke is gracious, but the allegiance is comprehensive. Jesus does not invite disciples to attend his teaching occasionally while retaining their former way of life as the governing framework of their existence. He invites them to learn an entirely new way of being human.

Jesus’ methods of instruction reveal a remarkable integration of theological exposition and lived experience. His teaching was neither an uninterrupted lecture nor an unstructured series of religious encounters. The Gospel narratives suggest deliberate development in the understanding, character, and participation of his disciples. They observe Jesus, receive instruction, engage in ministry, misunderstand his intentions, experience correction, and are repeatedly brought back to the central realities of the kingdom.

Mark 4 provides an example of his use of parables. The Greek parabolē (παραβολή) refers broadly to a comparison, illustration, or figurative saying and shares conceptual territory with the Hebrew māšāl (מָשָׁל). Jesus employs familiar agricultural imagery to communicate the character and reception of the kingdom. Yet the parables do more than make complex theological concepts accessible. Mark 4:10–12 presents a tension between revelation and concealment, emphasizing that the hearer’s response is itself part of the narrative. Jesus subsequently explains the parables to his disciples (4:33–34), showing that public proclamation and more intimate theological instruction were complementary rather than competing practices.⁷

In Luke 10:25–37, Jesus demonstrates another form of pedagogical engagement. A legal expert asks what he must do to inherit eternal life. Jesus directs him back to Scripture, asking, Pōs anaginōskeis? (πῶς ἀναγινώσκεις), “How do you read?” The question is not merely whether the man possesses biblical information but how he understands and interprets it. After the lawyer correctly identifies love for God and neighbor as central to the law, Jesus tells the parable of the Samaritan.

The rhetorical movement is significant. The lawyer initially seeks to establish the boundaries of his obligation by asking who qualifies as his neighbor. Jesus reverses the question, identifying the one who acted as a neighbor through mercy. The concluding imperative, poreuou kai sy poiei homoiōs (πορεύου καὶ σὺ ποίει ὁμοίως), directs the hearer toward action: go and do likewise. The distinction between knowing the law and embodying its intent becomes the central pedagogical achievement of the exchange.⁸

John 4 illustrates another dimension of Jesus’ method. In his encounter with the Samaritan woman, Jesus engages questions of social identity, religious tradition, worship, and messianic expectation. The conversation develops through a series of responses and misunderstandings, allowing the woman’s assumptions to emerge before Jesus redirects her toward a more comprehensive understanding of worship. The encounter subsequently becomes the occasion for communal testimony, as others from the town come to hear Jesus for themselves (John 4:39–42). Teaching moves from conversation to revelation and then toward the participation of a wider community.

Jesus also teaches through embodied demonstration. In John 13:1–17, he washes the feet of his disciples and then explains the significance of his actions. The Greek hypodeigma (ὑπόδειγμα), used in John 13:15, identifies his action as an example or pattern. The disciples are not merely instructed to value humility. They encounter humility practiced by the one they recognize as Lord and Teacher, and they are called to imitate what they have witnessed.

Equally important is the way Jesus permits his disciples to participate in ministry before they fully understand it. Mark 6:7–13 describes the Twelve being sent out with authority to proclaim repentance and confront unclean spirits. When they return, they report what they have done and taught (Mark 6:30). The pattern resembles supervised participation more than conventional lecture-based instruction.

Even their failures become occasions for formation. The disciples repeatedly misunderstand Jesus’ identity, the meaning of his mission, and the character of greatness within the kingdom (Mark 8:14–21; 9:33–37; 10:35–45). Rather than abandoning them, Jesus revisits these themes through further teaching, correction, and demonstration.

This recurring pattern offers an important challenge to contemporary preaching. How often do pastors revisit a theological subject because the congregation has not yet learned to embody it? How frequently do leaders invite people into actual ministry, observe their development, and provide personal correction? Jesus’ teaching was repetitive not because he lacked additional material, but because the formation of disciples required more than a single encounter with truth.

The encounter on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:13–35) provides one of the most compelling narratives of Jesus’ pedagogical approach. It also illustrates why correct information alone is insufficient for faithful biblical interpretation. The two disciples possess considerable information about Jesus. They know of his prophetic ministry, his crucifixion, the discovery of the empty tomb, and the reports of angelic witnesses. Yet they interpret these events through disappointed expectations concerning Israel’s redemption. Their confession in Luke 24:21, hēmeis de ēlpizomen (ἡμεῖς δὲ ἠλπίζομεν), “but we had hoped,” reveals the tension between their expectations and what has occurred.

Jesus begins with questions, allowing the disciples to articulate their understanding. He then challenges their failure to comprehend the prophetic witness and interprets the Scriptures concerning the Messiah’s suffering and glory (Luke 24:25–27). Luke uses the verb diermēneuō (διερμηνεύω), meaning to interpret or explain, to describe Jesus’ exposition of Moses and the Prophets. The significance is not simply that Jesus supplies additional proof texts. He reconstructs their understanding of Israel’s story around the necessity of the Messiah’s suffering and vindication. Their problem is hermeneutical. They possess biblical expectations, but those expectations have not adequately accounted for the shape of God’s redemptive purposes.

Recognition occurs when Jesus takes bread, blesses it, breaks it, and gives it to them (Luke 24:30–31). The narrative deliberately brings together scriptural exposition, shared hospitality, and recognition of the risen Lord. The breaking of bread recalls earlier Lukan meal scenes, particularly the feeding narrative and the Last Supper, without requiring the conclusion that Luke is describing a formal Eucharistic service. The disciples subsequently return to Jerusalem and bear witness to their encounter. Their explanation of Scripture has become inseparable from recognition, renewed hope, and communal testimony.

For homiletics, Emmaus is especially instructive because Jesus does not merely deliver a theological lecture to disappointed followers. He walks with them, listens to their confusion, engages their assumptions, interprets Scripture, shares a meal, and brings them into a renewed recognition of the Messiah. The primary theological claim remains the revelation of the risen Christ, but the narrative also demonstrates that biblical understanding often develops within relationships and experiences that extend beyond formal instruction.

A sermon may faithfully interpret the Scriptures, but discipleship asks what happens when the sermon concludes. Who walks with the people who remain confused? Who helps them reconsider assumptions that have shaped their theology for decades? Who sits with them in their grief, answers their questions, and helps them recognize the presence of Christ within their circumstances?

The preacher who understands Emmaus should not only aspire to explain Scripture with clarity but also cultivate a ministry where people are accompanied through the difficult process of learning to understand and inhabit the biblical story.⁹

If the purpose of pastoral ministry is the formation of disciples, then sermon preparation should be connected to a more intentional understanding of congregational development. Most pastors understandably plan their preaching in terms of individual messages or short sermon series. A biblical book may occupy several months, followed by topical series addressing marriage, prayer, spiritual disciplines, or the life of Jesus. While there is considerable value in these approaches, they can become disconnected from a larger vision of what a congregation needs to learn and practice over time.

Educational theory offers a helpful framework through the concepts of scope and sequence. Scope concerns the breadth of material to be addressed, while sequence considers the order and recurrence through which learning develops. These concepts should not turn the local church into a conventional classroom or impose an artificial timetable upon spiritual growth. They can, however, help pastors consider whether their teaching ministries are intentionally forming a mature community or simply producing a succession of individual sermons.

A pastor might begin by asking what a healthy congregation should understand and embody after three, five, or ten years of shared life. Such planning would consider the biblical narrative, the character of God, the Trinity, creation and image bearing, covenant, the kingdom, the person and work of Christ, the Holy Spirit, the church, reconciliation, spiritual formation, justice, suffering, prayer, mission, and the hope of renewed creation. The goal would not be to create a checklist of doctrines to be completed once, but to establish a framework of theological formation that is intentionally revisited and deepened.

The doctrine of the Trinity provides an illustrative example. A church might devote an entire sermon series to the biblical foundations and historical development of Trinitarian theology. Yet the subject should not disappear for the following decade simply because the series has been completed. The Trinity should continually inform teaching about prayer, worship, creation, salvation, Christian community, baptism, and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. Congregants encounter the doctrine repeatedly within different biblical and practical contexts, gradually developing a more integrated theological understanding.

This approach reflects the importance of repetition in the ministry of Jesus. The disciples encountered recurring themes of servanthood, kingdom greatness, faith, prayer, and the necessity of the cross. Their understanding developed over time as Jesus returned to these subjects in new circumstances.

For pastoral planning, I would recommend organizing a congregational teaching map around several recurring fields of formation rather than a rigid sequence of isolated courses.

Illustrative rhythms for a congregation, not a mandatory curriculum or prescribed biblical schedule

Area of formationSuggested recurrence
Biblical narrative and hermeneuticsContinuous exposition, with dedicated interpretive training annually
God’s character and the TrinityRegular reinforcement, with substantial treatment every 2–3 years
Jesus, covenant, kingdom, and atonementIntegrated throughout the year, with periodic focused series
Holy Spirit, spiritual gifts, and discernmentAnnual attention and recurring practical engagement
Spiritual practices, prayer, and worshipContinuous practice, with seasonal teaching and mentoring
Marriage, family, friendship, and reconciliationRegular relational formation, with periodic focused teaching
Justice, generosity, vocation, and public witnessIntegrated into exposition and revisited through service opportunities
Suffering, lament, death, and resurrection hopeRegular pastoral teaching alongside care for actual suffering
Mission, evangelism, and discipleshipContinuous participation, with annual equipping and assessment
Leadership development and mentoringOngoing apprenticeship with periodic evaluation

The purpose of such a map is not to displace expository preaching or force biblical passages into a predetermined topical system. Rather, it encourages pastors to recognize the cumulative theological and formational effect of their teaching over the life of a congregation. A pastor might discover, for example, that the church regularly addresses personal morality while rarely teaching the biblical story of covenant, kingdom, and new creation. Another congregation might possess extensive doctrinal knowledge while giving comparatively little attention to reconciliation, hospitality, or the care of vulnerable people.

A congregational teaching map makes these imbalances visible. It also helps pastors select sermon series with greater theological and pastoral intentionality.

The selection of a sermon series should therefore involve several considerations: What does the biblical text itself demand? What theological subjects have been neglected? What questions or misunderstandings are emerging within the congregation? What practices require renewed attention? Where is the Spirit directing the community toward repentance, growth, or mission? How does the proposed series contribute to the church’s larger understanding of Scripture?

These questions do not guarantee an ideal preaching calendar, but they provide a more intentional alternative to selecting messages primarily because a topic seems interesting, timely, or likely to attract an audience.

The most important implication of an intentional teaching strategy is that preaching cannot be expected to accomplish the entire task of discipleship by itself. A sermon may introduce, clarify, challenge, and reinforce biblical truth, but the formation of Christian character ordinarily requires sustained participation within a community of faith.

The New Testament provides several complementary expressions of this ministry. Acts 2:42–47 integrates teaching with fellowship, prayer, shared meals, and generosity. Acts 20:20 describes Paul’s ministry as both public and house-to-house. Colossians 3:16 envisions believers teaching and admonishing one another, while Ephesians 4:11–16 identifies the purpose of ministry leadership as equipping the saints for the work of ministry and the growth of the whole body.

In Ephesians 4:12, the term katartismos (καταρτισμός), often translated “equipping,” points toward preparing God’s people for their responsibilities. The pastor is not simply the person who performs religious ministry on behalf of the congregation. Pastoral leadership helps others become capable participants in the life and mission of the church.

A congregation committed to this understanding will recognize the value of multiple environments of formation. Sunday preaching provides corporate proclamation and a common theological framework. Small groups allow believers to wrestle with biblical teaching, pray together, confess struggles, and practice mutual encouragement. Personal mentorship provides opportunities for mature disciples to accompany those who are developing in faith. Deeper Bible-study gatherings enable the exploration of historical context, biblical languages, theological questions, and matters that cannot be adequately addressed within a typical sermon. Retreats, conferences, and study intensives create opportunities for concentrated reflection and fellowship. Shared meals, hospitality, service projects, pastoral counseling, and opportunities to participate in ministry provide contexts in which theological convictions are tested and embodied.

These environments should not be treated as unrelated programs competing for attention. They are complementary expressions of a common discipleship vocation. A sermon on forgiveness might be followed by small-group conversations about reconciliation, pastoral support for those navigating painful relationships, and practical opportunities to cultivate peacemaking. A series on the kingdom of God might connect with deeper biblical studies on covenant and eschatology, opportunities for local service, and mentoring relationships that help believers discern their own vocation.

The objective is not to keep congregants perpetually occupied with religious activities. Excessive programming can undermine the ordinary household, vocational, and relational settings in which discipleship must also take place. Rather, the objective is to provide meaningful environments in which biblical teaching becomes practiced wisdom.

The pastor, then, must think beyond the sermon calendar toward the entire formative life of the community. The question is no longer simply what will be preached on Sunday, but how the church will help people understand, practice, and pass on what is being taught.

Another practice worthy of recovery is the communal dimension of sermon preparation. The contemporary pastor often develops messages in relative isolation, moving from personal study to manuscript preparation and finally to public delivery. While solitude and careful exegesis are indispensable, the New Testament’s vision of the church as a body possessing diverse gifts challenges the assumption that one individual necessarily possesses every insight required for faithful and pastorally effective proclamation.

Ephesians 4:11–16, 1 Corinthians 12–14, and Colossians 3:16 portray a community in which teaching, wisdom, discernment, encouragement, and mutual edification extend beyond a single leader. This does not eliminate the responsibility of pastors and teachers to interpret Scripture faithfully. It does suggest that the congregation’s gifts can meaningfully contribute to the preparation and application of biblical teaching.

As discussed in our earlier Expedition 44 article, The Message, the Method, and the Messenger, a ministry think tank offers one practical expression of this principle.¹⁰

A pastor might gather a small group of trusted participants two or three weeks before a planned sermon or series. The group could include other pastors, teachers, elders, individuals with theological training, counselors, younger and older believers, and people whose life experiences offer perspectives that the primary preacher may not possess.

The discussion would begin with the biblical text rather than a predetermined message. Participants might examine the literary setting, historical context, difficult interpretive questions, competing theological perspectives, and possible applications. They might identify where a proposed sermon risks oversimplification, where an illustration may unintentionally alienate or harm listeners, or where a familiar passage has been interpreted through assumptions that deserve further scrutiny.

For example, a series addressing marriage and covenant might benefit from the perspectives of married and single believers, widows, counselors, and those who have experienced relational trauma. A message concerning poverty or generosity could be enriched by people who understand economic hardship firsthand. A sermon addressing the role of women in ministry should not be developed without serious engagement with women who have studied, practiced, and reflected upon their calling.

Such conversations can also reveal the questions a congregation is actually asking. The pastor may enter preparation intending to answer one theological problem only to discover that the text raises a more pressing question for the community.

The think tank should not become a committee that determines biblical truth through majority opinion. Sound exegesis remains essential, and the primary preacher retains responsibility for the message. Nor should pastoral confidentiality be sacrificed in the pursuit of relevant illustrations. Rather, the process encourages humility, collaboration, and the recognition that God has distributed gifts throughout the body.

This practice also models discipleship. Participants are not simply supplying material for a better sermon; they are learning to handle Scripture responsibly, listen across differing perspectives, and participate in theological discernment. Sermon preparation itself becomes an environment of formation.

A mature preaching ministry should therefore aspire to do more than produce fifty excellent sermons each year. It should increasingly develop people capable of studying Scripture, discerning truth, mentoring others, and participating in the ongoing work of the kingdom.

Perhaps one of the most important recoveries needed in contemporary ministry is a renewed understanding of what it means to be a pastor. The Greek poimēn (ποιμήν), translated “shepherd,” is not primarily a title for a professional religious communicator. It describes one entrusted with the care, guidance, protection, and nurture of a flock. In John 21:15–17, Jesus charges Peter to feed and tend his sheep. In Acts 20:28, Paul instructs the Ephesian elders to shepherd the church of God, while 1 Peter 5:2–3 calls elders to exercise oversight willingly, not as domineering authorities, but as examples to the flock. These passages present pastoral ministry as a responsibility for people, not merely for the delivery of messages.

There is something deeply challenging about the distance that can develop between this biblical vocation and contemporary pastoral practice. A minister may become extraordinarily skilled at sermon preparation, public communication, organizational leadership, and theological explanation while remaining largely absent from the ordinary lives of the people entrusted to that ministry. Yet Jesus’ example consistently brings leadership back into relationship. He knew his disciples, shared their experiences, recognized their weaknesses, challenged their misplaced ambitions, and entrusted them with responsibilities they were still learning to carry. His disciples did not simply learn his teachings; they learned his way of life.

Recovering this model does not mean every pastor must personally mentor every congregant or abandon the necessary responsibilities of public proclamation. The New Testament’s emphasis upon a plurality of leaders, shared gifts, and mutual ministry provides a healthier vision than concentrating all spiritual formation in one individual. Nevertheless, the pastor must help establish and personally embody a culture of discipleship. Sermons, small groups, shared meals, mentoring relationships, theological studies, pastoral conversations, and opportunities for ministry should not function as disconnected programs. They should belong to a coherent vision of helping people grow into the likeness of Christ.

Ultimately, the question facing aspiring preachers is not simply whether they can hold the attention of a congregation for thirty minutes. It is whether they are willing to give themselves to the long, patient, frequently inconvenient work of forming disciples. Jesus invited fishermen to leave their nets, not to become spectators of his ministry, but to walk with him, learn his ways, and eventually participate in the same mission. His invitation remains profoundly demanding. The church does not need to abandon preaching; it needs to recover the larger life of discipleship within which preaching belongs. We need shepherds who open the Scriptures and open their homes, who teach from the platform and walk alongside people in their struggles, who proclaim the kingdom and demonstrate its character, and who measure the fruitfulness of their leadership not merely by those who gather to hear them but by those who are learning to follow Jesus and teach others to do the same. The church was never intended to become an audience gathered around a religious personality. It was called to become a people walking in the Way of Jesus. And perhaps the greatest legacy of any pastor is not the sermons remembered after their ministry is finished, but the disciples who continue walking in that Way long after the pastor is gone.

Endnotes

1. Eckhard J. Schnabel, Acts, ZECNT (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2012), commentary on Acts 2:42–47; Wayne A. Meeks, The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the Apostle Paul, 2nd ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003). See also Larry W. Hurtado, At the Origins of Christian Worship: The Context and Character of Earliest Christian Devotion (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999).

2. John R. W. Stott, Between Two Worlds: The Challenge of Preaching Today (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1982); Thomas G. Long, The Witness of Preaching, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2016). Both works underscore the pastoral and theological significance of proclamation, although the critique of contemporary sermon-centered ministry developed here is the present article’s argument.

3. J. Richard Middleton, The Liberating Image: The Imago Dei in Genesis 1 (Grand Rapids: Brazos, 2005); John H. Walton, The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2009).

4. Niek Veldhuis, Religion, Literature, and Scholarship: The Sumerian Composition Nanše and the Birds, CM 22 (Leiden: Brill, 2004); Christopher A. Rollston, Writing and Literacy in the World of Ancient Israel: Epigraphic Evidence from the Iron Age, ABS 11 (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2010). For prophetic associations, see Joseph Blenkinsopp, A History of Prophecy in Israel, rev. and enl. ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1996).

5. R. T. France, The Gospel of Mark: A Commentary on the Greek Text, NIGTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), commentary on Mark 1:16–20 and 3:13–19; Joel Marcus, Mark 1–8: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary, AB 27 (New York: Doubleday, 2000).

6. Catherine Hezser, The Social Structure of the Rabbinic Movement in Roman Palestine, TSAJ 66 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997); Shmuel Safrai, “Education and the Study of the Torah,” in The Jewish People in the First Century, ed. S. Safrai and M. Stern, CRINT 1.2 (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1976), 945–70. Later rabbinic evidence should be distinguished from direct first-century documentation.

7. Klyne R. Snodgrass, Stories with Intent: A Comprehensive Guide to the Parables of Jesus, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2018); France, Gospel of Mark, commentary on Mark 4.

8. Joel B. Green, The Gospel of Luke, NICNT (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997), commentary on Luke 10:25–37; Expedition 44, “Who Is My Neighbor?,” September 2, 2026. For John 4 and 13, see Marianne Meye Thompson, John: A Commentary, NTL (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2015).

9. François Bovon, Luke 3: A Commentary on the Gospel of Luke 19:28–24:53, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), commentary on Luke 24:13–35; N. T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God, Christian Origins and the Question of God 3 (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2003). The interpretation here emphasizes the movement from mistaken expectation to scriptural understanding, recognition, and renewed witness. I could not independently locate the more recent X44 article specifically devoted to Emmaus, so I have not attributed unverified arguments to it.

10. Expedition 44, “The Message, the Method, and the Messenger,” June 2, 2026, written with Dr. Steve Cassell, especially the section titled “THINKTANK.”

11. Frank Thielman, Ephesians, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010), commentary on Eph 4:11–16; David G. Peterson, The Acts of the Apostles, PNTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), commentary on Acts 20:17–38; Karen H. Jobes, 1 Peter, BECNT (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005), commentary on 1 Pet 5:1–4.

  1. Leaving the nets: How does the calling of the Twelve challenge contemporary models of church membership and the assumptions we make about the commitment involved in following Jesus?
  2. The pastor’s vocation: If preaching is one dimension of shepherding, what should actually occupy a pastor’s time throughout the week? How would this affect the way churches evaluate pastoral success?
  3. Long-term formation: If you were responsible for shepherding the same congregation for ten years, what biblical truths, theological disciplines, and kingdom practices would you want people to have encountered repeatedly?
  4. Shared preparation: How might a sermon think tank strengthen both the biblical integrity of a message and the discipleship of those involved in preparing it?

Ask students to imagine that they have accepted responsibility for a congregation of seventy-five people and expect to pastor them for the next five years. Rather than writing a sermon series, have them design a pastoral discipleship philosophy. What will they teach repeatedly? How will they mentor emerging leaders? Where will serious biblical study happen? How will people practice what they are learning? What role will homes, meals, small groups, and ministry participation play? Finally, what will they do personally to remain accessible as shepherds rather than functioning only as weekly speakers?

The exercise should close with one question: If Jesus visited your congregation for six months, would he recognize your approach to making disciples as something resembling his own?

Design a Five-Year Congregational Discipleship and Teaching Map

Imagine you are pastoring a congregation for the next five years. What theological and doctrinal foundations do you want your people to understand, and how will you intentionally develop and reinforce those teachings over time? Consider which subjects deserve an entire sermon series, which need regular revisiting, and how you will account for the reality that many congregants do not attend consistently.

Your plan should extend well beyond Sunday preaching. How will you incorporate weekly Bible studies, small groups, mentoring, conferences, and other opportunities for discipleship? How will you provide theological direction and oversight for these ministries, particularly when others are leading them?

The goal is not simply to plan five years of sermons, but to develop an intentional strategy for forming mature disciples who understand Scripture, live out their faith, and disciple others.