Lionel J. Windsor | Australian Church Record | Synod issue 2025

Recently, I had the joy of spending time with some ministers in an area of Sydney where Anglican churches are growing and thriving. Several of the ministers had participated in church consultations that used an outcomes-oriented framework based on solid gospel convictions and utilising organisational systems theory. The consultations had helped the ministry teams accurately measure their present situation and make concrete plans to achieve goals for reaching the lost. This had already led to substantial gospel growth and had given these ministers renewed optimism and Christ-centred confidence in ministry. I praise God for this. I believe there should be more of it.

The positive power and potential of frameworks like this leads me to keep sounding a note of warning. I’m not trying to dampen enthusiasm for such frameworks. I’m trying to help make their implementation theologically robust for decades to come. As we employ these frameworks and witness their power, there’s something to “watch out” for. We need to have our eyes wide open. The warning I want to keep sounding arises from Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 3:10: “Let each one take care (or “watch out”) how he builds ….”

This article, originally published in the Australian Church Record Synod Issue 2025, continues a conversation that began with my article in the ACR Easter issue 2024. I’m writing here primarily for members of the Synod of the Diocese of Sydney. But I’m hoping what I write will be relevant to anyone who has discovered the tremendous power of goal-driven thinking in gospel ministry and wants to reflect further on it. If you haven’t followed the prior conversation, don’t worry; I’ve written this article so you can read it as a standalone.

It’s also available in video format on YouTube:

And in audio format on the Podcast “Iso-Chats: Theology” or by direct play and download here:

A failure of communication

My original article (also available on YouTube and on this site) was “Gospel Seriously: The Dangerous Necessity of Goal-Driven Ministry.”[1] Andrew Heard—a brilliant driving force for the consultations I described above—wrote a critical response, “Reflections on ‘The Dangerous Necessity of Goal-Driven Ministry.”[2] The main thrust of Andrew’s response was unmissable: he found my original article confusing and lacking clarity. Since successful communication isn’t merely about what is said (the input) but what is heard (the outcome), it’s right for me take responsibility for the miscommunication.

Happily, my failure to communicate is also an opportunity to clarify. And clarity on this topic is vital. That’s because it concerns the future of the gospel in Sydney, Australia and the world. Yet it’s not easy. As brothers in Christ, Andrew and I are approaching the same goal from different angles. On the one hand, Andrew is seeking to equip people to see the gospel of Jesus Christ passionately proclaimed and urgently responded to by as many as possible. On the other hand, I’m seeking to help ensure that the gospel we proclaim and respond to remains the same in 50 years and beyond. These are two complementary activities that work together but can’t be subsumed under one another. The difference requires robust discussion. So, we need to disagree precisely while avoiding polarisation. That’s why I’m grateful for Andrew’s critique and the chance to clarify.

In this reply, I’ll seek to clarify three things:

1. the nature of the danger I’m talking about,
2. the definition of “goal-driven ministry” I’m using, and
3. most importantly, the significance of Paul’s warning to “take care” or “watch out” in 1 Corinthians 3:10—and what it has to do with the metaphor of the “wise master builder.”

Clarity on the danger

Necessity and danger: Both eyes open

To reiterate the basic point of my original article: it’s vitally important to do two things at once. The two things might seem to be contradictory, yet we can only move forward by grasping both of them simultaneously:

Appeal #1: Engage in goal-driven ministry for the sake of the gospel of Christ crucified

Appeal #2: Constantly critique your goal-driven ministry by the gospel of Christ crucified[3]

Think of these two appeals as two “eyes.” We need to have both eyes open to see the world in 3D and walk properly. I summarised this “two-eyed” approach using a provocative subtitle: “The Dangerous Necessity of Goal-Driven Ministry.” I thought the phrase “dangerous necessity” nicely captured the two-eyed approach. But when my article was published, somebody pointed out that Andrew’s newly released book, Growth and Change, contained an almost identical phrase in its subtitle: The Danger and Necessity of a Passion for Church Growth.[4] I’d submitted the manuscript for my article before Andrew’s book was available, and I’d assumed I’d come up with the danger-necessity duality myself. But it’s far more likely that I’d heard Andrew or others using it over the previous few years and had internalised it so much that I thought it was my idea. Apologies, Andrew!

In his response to me, Andrew rightly draws attention to his book.[5] And now that I’ve read it, I can confirm that Growth and Change is transformative and powerful. It’s a theologically grounded defence of gospel-focused change and growth in church life, along with a clear, practical outline of how to implement such change. It’s an important book for anyone involved in gospel ministry to get their hands on. And—as expected from the subtitle—it draws attention to both the necessity and some of the dangers of this way of thinking.[6] Granted, Andrew and I approach the necessity and danger from opposite directions. Andrew names some dangers but focuses on the necessity.[7] I affirmed the necessity but focused on a key danger.[8] But my focus on danger wasn’t designed to negate the necessity. After all, most things in life that are worth doing are dangerous. But still, we need to take the danger seriously. As we engage in this necessary thing, we need to always “take care” or “watch out” (1 Cor 3:10).[9] We need to have our eyes wide open.

What danger, exactly?

The key danger I’m talking about is not something Andrew directly identifies in his book. Andrew focuses on more immediate and medium-termdangers for individual ministries: “Sinner-driven churches,” “worldly respect,” “The pursuit of cultural relevance,” “theological compromise,” “Stress and grief,” “negativity,” “Rampant pragmatism,” and the ends justifying the means.[10] These dangers are all clear and present dangers. It’s perfectly right for Andrew to focus on them in such a practical book.

Yet the danger I’m talking about is deeper than these. It may only become full-fledged in future generations, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less dangerous. The danger is this: allowing our ministries to be so shaped by the particular framework of speaking and thinking about ministry we’ve adopted that the gospel we preach—or, more importantly, the gospel that people hear—ends up becoming shaped by the values we’ve adopted in our ministry framework. Many of those values (understandably) revolve around human effectiveness. But the gospel we preach cannot revolve around human effectiveness. Hence, the danger.[11]

Warning signs

In my original article, I listed some possible warning signs that might make us realise we’ve gone too far.[12] I wasn’t pointing the finger at Andrew or any other particular leaders in this area—I don’t think they have gone too far. I realise now from Andrew’s response that it might have looked like I was taking covert aim at them—and if so, I apologise. To clarify: I was talking about attitudes that I myself feel tempted to adopt, and which I have actually seen expressed by some less informed devotees of these frameworks.

I identified four dangerous attitudes that arise from warnings in 1 Corinthians 1–4:

1. being “impressed” by goal-driven human leaders (e.g., 1 Cor 4:6),
2. being “fascinated” by human systems and measures (e.g., 1 Cor 4:3–5),
3. “despising” other ministries that seem weak (e.g., 1 Cor 1:28), and
4. “glorifying” effective ministries (e.g. 1 Cor 3:21).

I don’t just mean commending and learning from effective ministries (we should do this!). I’m talking about that sense of superiority that arises when we realise that we’re being intentional and getting results but others aren’t. I’m talking about that satisfaction we can feel when we realise that we really do know how to do ministry better than others. I’m talking about the tendency we can have to tolerate leaders who are numerically successful but aren’t displaying the fruit of the Spirit that flows from the humility of the cross. These warning signs are real for me—and for all of us. And the more powerful and effective our ministry framework is, and the more it leads to real, God-honouring results, the more critical it is to be aware of the danger so we can consistently critique ourselves by the gospel of Christ crucified.

Clarity on “goal-driven ministry”

But hold on, you might say, why does it have to be so complicated? Surely, all we need to do is to ensure the values in our framework for speaking and thinking about ministry are purely biblical and theological. Then we can just press on without worrying, can’t we?

No, that approach is far too naïve. Our frameworks for engaging in ministry are never purely biblical and theological. That’s just not the nature of the beast.

What’s the thing we’re talking about?

At this point, we need clarity on the true nature of the ministry frameworks we’re dealing with. In my original article, I identified a particular kind of framework. “For want of a better term,” I labelled it “goal-driven ministry.”[13] I laid out a definition at the start and sought to be consistent with it throughout:

the kind of ministry thinking that tends to borrow heavily from the worldly wisdom of things like systems theory—inputs, processes, measurement, outputs—strategic planning, leadership, statistical analysis, quality control, business management, etc.[14]

I continue to stand by this definition of “goal-driven ministry” (GDM). However, reading Andrew’s response, I can see that my discussion needs clarification. Andrew argued that I was quite unclear, because the phrase “goal-driven ministry” has a broader, more “natural meaning” and “intuitive sense” of merely being intentional in ministry, i.e. “simply being focused on achieving a goal” in any ministry scenario.[15] And at one point, I did refer to this broader sense of intentionality when I was discussing the necessity of GDM. I argued from 1 Corinthians 8–10 that we must be intentional in ministry (generally), for the sake of the salvation of others.[16] Then, I argued that because such intentionality (broadly defined) is necessary, there’s another step we need to take: “it’s worth prayerfully and humbly learning from people in our world who have put significant thought and effort into working out how to turn goals into actions in our lives and our organisations.”[17] I was saying that A) we must be intentional (generally); and B) since intentionality means action, we need to make use of the best language and thinking we can find to help us to do it. And whether we admit it or not, most of the best language and thinking about goals comes from the secular world.[18] I called that “GDM”. I also called it “Plundering the Egyptians” (PTE)—i.e., using secular wisdom to be truly intentional, i.e., to think and talk about achieving ministry goals.

Sometimes, our use of secular wisdom to achieve ministry goals is obvious. We analyse numbers and organisational life cycles. We employ statistical analysis of populations and church life. I’ve benefitted from productivity management gurus to help take control of my life and achieve life goals (I’ve even blogged about it).[19] In my teaching at Moore Theological College, I utilise secular pedagogical methods focused on achieving “learning outcomes.” Right now, an expert organisational psychologist is helping me to develop in leadership. This is normal, necessary, and unavoidable. And yet, it’s dangerous. As I said: “The gold we plunder (i.e., the worldly wisdom we adapt) is never merely a neutral building material. It always glitters and tempts us to love and treasure it in its own right.”[20]

Plundering the Egyptians: The brilliance of Growth and Change

Now that I’ve read Andrew’s book Growth and Change, I can see quite clearly that this necessary and dangerous use of secular wisdom—plundering the Egyptians—is precisely what Andrew is doing. That’s the brilliance of the book. It’s not just a theological argument about why we need to be goal-oriented as a concept. It is this, but it’s more. It’s a book that adopts secular wisdom in the cause of change. Secular wisdom permeates Andrew’s book. For example:

• He expertly appropriates organisational change management theory, including its potent theoretical metaphor of “heat.”[21]
• He has a chapter discussing a modern psychological framework—Maslow’s hierarchy of needs—not only critiquing its shortcomings but also showing how this piece of “worldly wisdom” can be fruitfully “[a]pplied to biblical thought.”[22]
• He helpfully draws insights about leadership from ideas in secular organisational theory—e.g., the “Stockdale Paradox” derived from ancient Greek Stoic philosophy,[22a] resource management, investment, delegation, recruitment, management, reviews, leading leaders, vision casting—all while avoiding the idea that a church leader is merely a CEO.[23]

Most significantly (consistent with my definition of GDM), Andrew frequently utilises organisational systems theory. This is a robust, pragmatic secular framework informed by insights from engineering, economics, and management theory. For example:

• He deliberately and creatively appropriates various kinds of systems theory terminology—e.g., “inputs,” “outputs,” a “feedback loop,” and “intermediate output targets”—to discuss the importance of intentionality in ministry.[24]
• He recognises different kinds of systems thinking, insightfully arguing that it’s better to think in terms of the “branch of modern psychology” called “family systems” theory rather than the kind of systems theories tailored to large businesses.[25]
• Systems theory thoroughly informs his “overall philosophy of ministry,” which is about pathways, strategies, and ecosystems involving interconnections and interdependencies.[26]
• He explicitly tells his readers he is seeking “to apply ‘systems thinking’ to the life of a church community.”[27]

This is powerful stuff. As I mentioned, it also fits my definition of goal-driven ministry (or “Plundering the Egyptians”) very well. It’s a robust, theologically informed adoption of secular wisdom (based on modern pragmatism) to theorise about the centrality of ministry goals. Andrew said about my definition: “If this is GDM, I’m not a fan.”[28] But I guess that’s because I wasn’t clear enough. After all, as I said, I’m a fan myself. And in fact, I think Andrew is a fan, given that it’s everywhere in his book! Maybe Andrew’s reticence to own it comes from the fact that I mentioned the word “business” as one element in my list of examples—and it’s clear in his article Andrew is very keen to distance himself from the suggestion that church is a “business.”[29] But his adoption of secular wisdom goes way beyond merely suggesting that a church is like a business! And I think it’s great. But it’s also dangerous.

How do we respond?

So how do we respond when engaging with such ministry frameworks that helpfully adopt secular wisdom to theorise about the centrality of ministry goals? Here are three possibilities:

Response 1. We could react against the existence of secular wisdom in the framework and reject the whole framework merely because it’s using something “worldly.” Andrew rightly calls this the “genetic fallacy.” [30] He suggests my readers might go down that route. So readers—please don’t! We must realise that using secular wisdom isn’t merely necessary; it’s unavoidable (to adopt Andrew’s language).[31] We’re always doing it, whether we realise it or not. We can’t avoid being human. This means we’ll always be using the wisdom and structures of the secular human world in some way.

Response 2. We could downplay the existence of secular wisdom in our framework and instead emphasise the theological element. This might help us to persuade the “Response 1” people for whom the mere existence of secular wisdom becomes a “heat dissipator” to avoid change.[32] However, if we did this, we would have our eyes closed to the mixed reality of our ministry frameworks. We would end up “baptising” the secular wisdom in our frameworks as if it were actual theology—and the gospel itself would be confused.

Response 3. With our eyes wide open, we could simply admit we’re adopting secular wisdom. We could then use it effectively while not confusing the human aspects of our ministry philosophies with true theology. This would allow the gospel to constantly critique our ministry philosophies. It would enable us to watch out for the danger that the gospel of Christ crucified might be muted by whatever secular wisdom we’ve used in our ministry philosophies.

Clarity on the wisdom of the cross in 1 Corinthians 1–4

That’s why 1 Corinthians 1–4 is so helpful. But since Andrew disagrees significantly with me about some parts of 1 Corinthians 1–4—in particular, the meaning of 1 Corinthians 3:10—some clarification is needed.

What’s Paul talking about in 1 Corinthians 1–4?

In my original article, I opened my discussion of 1 Corinthians 1–4 with the sentence: “If you approached 1 Corinthians 1–4 with a strongly goal-driven pragmatic filter, you’d probably conclude that Paul had gone completely mad.”[33] I then listed the mad things you’d probably conclude. The reason I listed these mad things was to show that you can’t approach 1 Corinthians 1–4 this way. Paul didn’t write these chapters as a list of practical tips for ministry. If you try to read it that way, you end up thinking it’s foolish.

In doing this, I was trying to make a point about the absurdity of approaching 1 Corinthians 1–4 as a list of ministry tips. But I can see from Andrew’s response that I wasn’t clear enough. Andrew says my readers would look at my list of absurdities and conclude that I genuinely believed the passage was giving us a list of practical tips for how to do ministry—but bizarre tips about being deliberately stupid and never pursuing any goals! He suggests I was saying that Paul “deliberately acted in the most thoughtless, foolish and stupid ways imaginable.”[34] A serious miscommunication on my part!

So to clarify, let me double-underline the next sentence in my original article: “What’s going on? It’s not that Paul was crazy, or that he merely wanted to be perverse.”[35] My point (along with that of many commentators) was that what seems foolish in the eyes of simplistically pragmatically driven readers makes sense when we understand the purpose of 1 Corinthians 1–4. Paul wasn’t just talking here about his general ministry strategy. He was countering a situation where secular wisdom dominated the Corinthians’ thinking and actions. Their “worldview (their big-W Wisdom) prized rhetorical effectiveness and following human leaders. This was diametrically opposed to the values of the gospel of Christ crucified.”[36] This meant that in this situation especially, Paul deliberately avoided utilising the ministry framework the Corinthians valued, even though it would have seemed highly effective in communicating the gospel to them.

Even though we don’t face precisely the same situation as the Corinthians, 1 Corinthians 1–4 is still highly relevant to us. That’s because it helps us to understand and interact with secular wisdom. It helps us to treat it with care. Even though secular wisdom is worth adopting and using in ministry, there are times when we or the people we preach to can become like the Corinthians. We can become so enamoured of the effectiveness of the secular wisdom we have adopted in our ministry frameworks that our very use of it undermines the message of Christ crucified. And it’s a real danger.

Surely, effectiveness in preaching the gospel can’t be a danger, can it? Of course it can. Why? Because, as Paul emphasises in 1 Corinthians 1–4, the gospel is fundamentally a message that we are ineffective at achieving the great goal: salvation. We need God to save us. And he’s done this in a way that opposes all human power and wisdom: through the cross. So if we become too focused on human effectiveness and wisdom in ministry, then no matter how much we’re saying we believe the message of the cross, we’re not actually holding to it. That doesn’t always happen, but it’s what had happened in Corinth. And that’s Paul’s primary topic throughout 1 Corinthians 1–4. That’s why these chapters are so helpful for us to critique ourselves today, even as we rightly pursue goals in ministry.

“Wisdom” in 1 Corinthians 1–4

“Wisdom” is the key term throughout 1 Corinthians 1–4. Paul uses the word group 26 times, plus many other related terms. So, to understand these chapters, it’s important to grasp what “wisdom” means in the Bible.

In discussing wisdom, Andrew points mainly to the book of Proverbs, which portrays “a world that, generally speaking, operates on the basis of cause and effect” and undergirds a theologically principled pragmatism.[37] That’s why pragmatism works—because it’s true! But it’s not the whole truth. A full-orbed biblical account of “wisdom” must go beyond this basic cause-and-effect idea in Proverbs. To be truly wise, we need to consider Job and Ecclesiastes, where again and again the Bible underlines the fact that true wisdom involves humility before God in the face of not being able to discern cause and effect. We need to consider the “wisdom” of the Suffering Servant in Isaiah, who confounds human plans and rulers and achieves God’s purposes through suffering (e.g., Isa 52:13–15; cf. 29:14). We need to consider Daniel’s “wisdom” which looked to God to reveal his mysteries in a way that humans cannot discern (e.g., Dan 2:30).

These latter themes are all prominent in 1 Corinthians 1–4 (in fact, Paul often quotes from the Old Testament to make his point). Paul is here emphasising the wisdom of the cross that stands against human wisdom, strength, and power (e.g., 1 Cor 1:18–31). This is why 1 Corinthians 1–4 provide us with an essential corrective to any overly optimistic “cause-and-effect” understanding of wisdom.

The “skilled/wise master builder” (1 Corinthians 3:10)

I argued that this overall topic of 1 Corinthians 1–4—the clash between human wisdom and God’s wisdom—is critical to understanding Paul’s discussion of ministry in 1 Corinthians 3:5–15, especially v. 10:

According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled [or “wise”, sophos] master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care [or “watch out”, blepetō] how he builds upon it. (1 Cor 3:10 ESV).

Paul is here employing a metaphor. Because Andrew and I disagree about how to read this metaphor, it’s helpful to spell out in more detail how the metaphor is functioning and exactly where Andrew and I disagree.

A metaphor occurs when an author uses an image that naturally belongs in one area of life well known to the readers (a source domain) to make a point relevant to another area of life that the author wants to discuss (a target domain).[38] Here, the source domain here is the historical world of physical temple-building projects. The target domain is Paul’s discussion of Christian ministry in light of the clash between human wisdom and God’s wisdom. In terms of the historical source domain (physical temple building), Paul is portraying himself “like” a “skilled master builder.” He’s inviting his readers to imagine him in some way like an expert temple-building project manager with practical know-how in laying physical foundations and coordinating contractors.[39] In terms of the textual target domain (Christian ministry and the clash of wisdoms), Paul is actually talking about his role as the founding apostle who proclaimed the gospel of “Jesus Christ and him crucified” as the foundation for all future ministry (2:2; 3:11). A diagram can help to illustrate Paul’s metaphorical language:

The Greek word sophos contains a double meaning that enables Paul to create a deliberate link between the source domain (the “skilled” activity of physical temple building) and the target domain (the “wise” activity of preaching the message of the cross). To drive the connection home, Paul explicitly draws together the threads of the temple-building metaphor (3:10–17)—and indeed his whole discussion to this point—by using the word sophos in a way that remind his readers he is talking here not about human ability but about the clash between divine and human wisdom (3:18–23):

Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise (sophos) in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise (sophos). For the wisdom (sophia) of this world is folly with God. (1 Cor 3:18–19a ESV)

Andrew insists that when we read the phrase sophos archtektōn in 3:10, we must choose between the source domain (historical context) or the target domain (biblical text / context). He firmly lands on the source domain, i.e., the ancient world of physical temple building. For Andrew, therefore, Paul’s language is “straightforward.” He treats the phrase like a literal term, arguing that we can and should import further ideas from the historical context to fill it out. So, for example, because a master builder in the ancient world was “skilled” at practical tasks and led a team of contractors, Paul must also be using the idea here to focus his readers on his own “practical ability” and “experience” as “the one who leads a team.”[40]

However, this fails to consider that we’re dealing here with a metaphor, not a literal phrase. Metaphors, like sermon illustrations, are only valid for the points the author explicitly seeks to draw out. That’s why we can’t import everything we know about ancient master builders into Paul’s use of the phrase. We need to examine how Paul is using this metaphor in his argument here (the target domain). When we look at the text, we see he’s not using the image here to portray himself as a great example of skilful team leadership. (Sure, Paul led missionary teams, but that’s not what he’s talking about here.[41]) Instead, he’s focusing on his unique founding role as the apostle who lays down the gospel—i.e., the wisdom of the cross, which stands against human wisdom—as the standard that all future ministers must conform to. Paul is the unique master builder who laid the one foundation. Everybody else (including all ministers today, regardless of whether we lead teams) are mere contractors, bound to follow the apostolic master pattern: Jesus Christ and him crucified (3:11; 2:2). Throughout this passage, Paul is consistently talking about the wisdom of the cross. He’s not making a concession to human skill, as Andrew seems to suggest.

I don’t think Andrew is correct when he states that “many commentators” share his line interpretation.[42] The claim is not actually supported by the commentators Andrew cites.[43] One of these commentators (Hays) argues strongly for the understanding I’ve outlined, not for Andrew’s view.[44] Another commentator (Gardner) briefly mentions both interpretations without coming to a firm conclusion.[45] A third commentator (Thiselton) does sketch something like Andrew’s view. However, Thiselton is almost exclusively focused on the historical background of the image; he does not engage at all with the issue of how sophos relates to Paul’s theological exploration of wisdom in these chapters.[46] Furthermore, Andrew does not mention the commentators I cited in my original article (Carson, Ciampa & Rosner).[47] Rosner & Ciampa engage with both the historical background and Paul’s text in most depth, arguing compellingly at multiple points for the interpretation I’ve advocated here.[48] I think it’s fair to say that biblical scholarship supports my interpretation quite strongly, whereas Andrew’s interpretation is an outlier at best. In any case, I’m happy to leave it to my readers to check out these sources and evaluate these claims.

To summarise: Paul uses the metaphor of the “skilled/wise master builder” not to refer to his practical ability as a leader but to focus on his unique apostolic role: preaching the wisdom of the cross in contrast to human wisdom and power/ability as the basis for all future ministry.

The warning: “Take care” / “Watch out!” (1 Corinthians 3:10)

And so Paul has a warning for all future ministers: “watch out!” / “take care!” (blepetō) (3:10). We need to have our eyes wide open to danger. The specific danger is that we might end up building in a way that doesn’t match the foundation laid by the apostolic master builder: the wisdom of the cross. We need to watch out that whatever other building materials we choose to use (secular or otherwise), we don’t deviate from the key task of preaching the gospel of Christ crucified, even when it may seem foolish in the eyes of our world that values human wisdom and power (3:12, cf. 3:19).

Paul sharpens the warning by pointing to a future measurement of our ministry work. This isn’t a humanly measurable outcome; it’s an evaluation that God will disclose through apocalyptic judgment (3:13). What exactly will be tested and measured? All the scholars cited so far (both by Andrew and by me) agree that the measure God will use is not the results of our ministry (the “outcomes,” to use Andrew’s systems-theory terminology) but our adherence to the wisdom of the cross.[49]

In a nutshell, Paul teaches that God will judge Christian workers on the single measure of their avoidance of human wisdom and adherence to the wisdom of the cross as they go about their work.[50]

To summarise: While practical human skill in ministry is necessary, that’s not what Paul is talking about in 1 Cor 3:10. Paul wrote this passage as a vital warning for ministers to build according to the wisdom of the cross, which stands against human wisdom. This is a warning that we all need to heed in case we become too enamoured of practical human skill in ministry.

Eyes wide open for us today

Here are some closing reflections on what we should do with any powerful frameworks for ministry that incorporate the best insights from secular wisdom but also carry the danger I’ve pointed to.

Firstly, let’s do this dangerous thing! We mustn’t avoid using secular wisdom simply because it’s dangerous. We need to use it for the very reasons Andrew outlines in his book: for the gospel of Christ crucified, for God’s vision, for the reality of heaven and hell, for the brevity of life, for love.[51]

But, secondly, the danger is still real. So let’s do it with our eyes wide open. Let’s not baptise our practical ministry frameworks as if they’re pure theology. Let’s freely admit we’re incorporating secular wisdom, then get on with it. That will give us true clarity. Then, as we rightly pursue effectiveness in achieving ministry goals, we can also avoid the danger—which is more real and subtle than we might think—to start valuing human effectiveness, especially when it comes to salvation.

Thirdly, we need to realise that there might be times when we might need to deliberately set aside certain uses of secular wisdom because we realise it’s taking over in our hearts and minds or the hearts and minds of our hearers. This is the situation Paul found himself in among the Corinthians.

I’ll finish with a mother of all warnings from Martin Luther. Luther experienced an extreme form of this danger in the Medieval Catholic church. Centuries of exceedingly effective church growth in Europe had tragically been accompanied by the glorification of human strength and power in ministry and salvation. This had actually changed the gospel that was being preached. Picking up Paul’s warnings in 1 Corinthians 1–4 and elsewhere, in his Heidelburg Disputation (1518), Luther wrote:

18. It is certain that man must utterly despair of his own ability before he is prepared to receive the grace of Christ.

19. That person does not deserve to be called a theologian who looks upon the invisible things of God as though they were clearly perceptible in the things which have actually happened.

20. He deserves to be called a theologian, however, who comprehends the visible and manifest things of God seen through suffering and the cross.

21. A theologian of glory calls evil good and good evil. A theologian of the cross calls the thing what it actually is.[52]

Admittedly, we’re a long way from the situation Luther had to address! But it’s still worth heeding the warning so that we never get anywhere close. As we strive to achieve God-honouring outcomes, let’s keep our eyes wide open.

---

[1] Lionel Windsor, “Gospel Seriously: The Dangerous Necessity of Goal-Driven Ministry,” Australian Church Record 1928 (2024): 5–15.

[2] Andrew Heard, “Reflections on ‘The Dangerous Necessity of Goal-Driven Ministry,’” Australian Church Record 1930 (2025): 77–88.

[3] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 6.

[4] Andrew Heard, Growth and Change: The Danger and Necessity of a Passion for Church Growth (Matthias Media, 2024).

[5] Heard, “Reflections,” 78.

[6] E.g., Heard, Growth and Change, 99–103.

[7] E.g., “We must always live with the danger passion brings”: Heard, Growth and Change, 103. Cf. “there is nowhere safe” (98, 125).

[8] Heard, “Reflections,” 77.

[9] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 12–13.

[10] Heard, Growth and Change, 21–32, 97–99, 198–201.

[11] Andrew does discuss the danger of our individual methods affecting our message: Heard, Growth and Change, 98–99. However, he doesn’t address the deeper danger: that our overall framework for speaking and thinking affects our message.

[12] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 14–15.

[13] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 5.

[14] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 5.

[15] Heard, “Reflections,” 80.

[16] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 6–8.

[17] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 8.

[18] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 8, 10.

[19] Lionel Windsor, “Sustainable Sacrifice,” Blog, Forget the Channel, 2016, https://www.lionelwindsor.net/bible-resources/biblical-series/sustainable-sacrifice/.

[20] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 9.

[21] Heard, Growth and Change, 13–14, 106, 143.

[22] Heard, Growth and Change, 77–95 quoting 77, 86.

[22a] James B. Stockdale, Courage Under Fire: Testing Epictetus’s Doctrines in a Laboratory of Human Behavior, Hoover Essays 6 (Stanford: Hoover Institution, 1993); term coined and applied to organizational theory by Jim Collins, Good to Great: Why Some Companies Make the Leap … and Others Don’t (London: Random House, 2001), 83–87.

[23] Heard, Growth and Change, 80–81, 119, 128, 176, 238, 240–42.

[24] Heard, Growth and Change, 107–10, 179–205.

[25] Heard, Growth and Change, 242.

[26] Heard, Growth and Change, 233–49 quoting 234.

[27] Heard, Growth and Change, 243.

[28] Heard, “Reflections,” 81.

[29] In fact, Andrew’s discussion of my article made it sound as if I was primarily discussing “business practice”: Heard, “Reflections,” 81. Yet I only mentioned the word “business” as one brief example of a range of secular ideas.

[30] Heard, “Reflections,” 84.

[31] Heard, “Reflections,” 77.

[32] Cf. Heard, Growth and Change, 143.

[33] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 10.

[34] Heard, “Reflections,” 87.

[35] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 10.

[36] Windsor, “Gospel Seriously,” 11.

[37] Heard, “Reflections,” 84; cf. Heard, Growth and Change, 133–41.

[38] This is standard cognitive linguistic terminology; see, e.g., Oscar E. Jiménez, Metaphors in the Narrative of Ephesians 2:11–22: Motion towards Maximal Proximity and Higher Status, LBS 20 (Leiden: Brill, 2022).

[39] A definitive article on this source domain is by Jay Shanor, “Paul as Master Builder: Construction Terms in First Corinthians,” New Testament Studies 34.3 (1988): 461–71.

[40] Heard, “Reflections,” 85–86.

[41] We can see from elsewhere that Paul leads a “team” that includes Timothy and Sosthenes (1:1; 4:17; 16:10). However, Paul isn’t talking about Timothy and Sosthenes in this passage. Instead, he’s talking about Apollos (3:4–6) and others like him. Apollos isn’t on Paul’s immediate “team”; he’s in broader gospel partnership with him (3:6; 16:12).

[42] Heard, “Reflections,” 85–87 quoting 87.

[43] Anthony C. Thiselton, The First Epistle to the Corinthians, NIGTC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2000); Paul D. Gardner, 1 Corinthians, ZECNT (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2018); Richard B. Hays, First Corinthians, Interpretation (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1997).

[44] Hays, First Corinthians, 53–56 esp. 54. Andrew (“Reflections,” 87 n 8) quotes Hays selectively; he also appears to misunderstand what Hays means by the terms “double sense” and “ironically.”

[45] Gardner, 1 Corinthians, 173.

[46] Thiselton, First Corinthians, 308.

[47] Donald A. Carson, The Cross and Christian Ministry: An Exposition of Passages from 1 Corinthians (Leicester: Inter-Varsity Press, 1993); Roy E. Ciampa and Brian S. Rosner, The First Letter to the Corinthians, PNTC (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2010).

[48] Ciampa and Rosner, First Corinthians, 150–57; cf. Carson, Cross and Christian Ministry, 77–82.

[49] Shanor, “Paul as Master Builder,” 55; Carson, Cross and Christian Ministry, 80–81; Thiselton, First Corinthians, 312–13; Ciampa and Rosner, First Corinthians, 155–156; Hays, First Corinthians, 55; Gardner, 1 Corinthians, 171–79; contra Heard, Growth and Change, 184.

[50] Ciampa and Rosner, First Corinthians, 156.

[51] Heard, Growth and Change, 37–56.

[52] Martin Luther, “Heidelburg Disputation (1518),” in Luther’s Works 31: Career of the Reformer: I, trans. Harold J. Grimm (Philadelphia: Muhlenberg, 1957), 35–70 here 40.