While having a clear understanding of the great purpose of preaching is essential to becoming an effective minister of the Gospel, this alone does not grant the pulpit its true influence. These convictions must be put into practice, expressed through diligent and faithful commitment to the work of the ministry. The central idea we wish to explore here is the necessity of unwavering diligence in the Christian ministry.

The Apostle Paul, offering fatherly advice to a young preacher, included this remarkable instruction: “Neglect not the gift that is in thee, which was given thee by prophecy, with the laying on of the hands of the Presbytery. Meditate upon these things; give thyself wholly to them, that thy profiting may appear to all.” Even the spiritual gifts imparted to young Timothy would be ineffective unless he devoted himself fully to his work. Paul himself was a noble example of the diligence he urged, likely accomplishing more in his short life than any other.

Paul was prepared for his ministry through early education in the liberal arts and sciences at the schools of Tarsus, as well as through manual labor as a tentmaker. This gave him both a disciplined mind and a body accustomed to hardship. From Tarsus, he went to Jerusalem, where, under the renowned teacher Gamaliel, he advanced rapidly and “profited above many of his equals.” However, God had destined him for a different calling, setting him apart from his mother’s womb to be a preacher of the Gospel. At the time of his conversion, God revealed to him that he was chosen to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to the Gentile world. From that moment, Paul pursued this mission with singular purpose and diligence, asking only, “Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?” and never pausing to consider his own comfort or “confer with flesh and blood.”

The first three years of Paul’s ministry were spent in different regions of Arabia. From there, he returned to Damascus, where, despite opposition from furious rulers, he preached openly in the synagogue. He then went to Jerusalem, where, though he stayed only fifteen days, he left a lasting impact, if not in conversion, then in the conviction and confusion of his enemies. From Jerusalem, he journeyed to his native city of Tarsus, then, with Barnabas, to Antioch. He traveled back to Jerusalem, then to Seleucia and Cyprus, preaching in all the major cities. From there, he continued to Pamphylia, Pisidia, and Iconium, with God continually confirming the word of His grace. He returned to Antioch, strengthening and confirming the churches and proclaiming the great door that had been opened for the conversion of the Gentile world.

Paul’s ministry was one of tireless labor and self-denial. He worked in Philippi, Athens, Corinth, Thessalonica, Ephesus, Illyricum, Troas, Miletus, Caesarea, and finally, Rome. Reflecting on his hardships, Paul says:

Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was stoned, three times I was shipwrecked. I spent a night and a day in the open sea. In my frequent journeys, I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my own countrymen, in danger from Gentiles, in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea, and in danger from false brothers. I have toiled and labored and often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides all this, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. (2 Corinthians 11:24-28)

Never was a mind more divinely suited to its work than Paul’s, and never did a minister of the Gospel so magnify his calling with such “mighty diligence and industry,” laboring in season and out of season, by day and by night, by sea and by land. As one early Christian father observed, Paul “ran from ocean to ocean, like the sun in the heavens, sooner lacking ground to tread upon than desire to spread the faith of Christ.” What he could not accomplish through his voice, he supplemented with his pen, leaving behind fourteen epistles to the churches. These letters, which remain to this day, offer profound insights into the doctrines and duties of the Gospel. For their simplicity, urgency, and true eloquence, they are unparalleled in the sacred writings.

It is beneficial for us to keep such an example of ministerial diligence before our eyes. Through Paul’s life, we can better appreciate how much can be accomplished by the patient and self-sacrificing efforts of one devoted servant of God.

Effective diligence encompasses the entirety of a minister’s life, requiring full dedication to the work of the Gospel. For a minister, time is more precious than rubies. A diligent minister carefully manages his time, gathering up every fragment so that none is wasted. There is nothing he feels more solemnly accountable for, nor anything he uses more cheerfully or intensely, in service to his Lord. While he, like everyone, needs moments of rest, it is essential that he chooses these moments with an honest conscience, fully aware that, when faced with the choice between labor and rest, it is natural to lean toward rest.

Independence of character is necessary for the minister to arrange his time without interruption. Though this may sometimes cost him popular favor, his consistent habits will eventually be known and respected. Yet, for a minister who insists on uninterrupted time for labor, it is vital to make full use of that time. This is largely a matter of habit, and it is one that can be readily acquired.

Some accomplish more in eight hours than others do in twelve, owing to the habit of focused effort. Ministers of the Gospel, of all people, have no time to waste. They may be careless with many things, but not with time. Wisdom in planning time, as well as punctuality and diligence in following through, are essential to their effectiveness.

A wise elder minister once advised the writer, “Seize time by the forelock.” The best days of the week and the best hours of the day are needed for the work of the ministry. We rebuke our hearers when they presume there is “time enough yet;” perhaps we should rebuke ourselves as well. How often do we let time slip away that ought to have been redeemed? How often do we stand discouraged at the threshold of duty, when we might have approached it with enthusiasm had we fully appreciated the value of time?

People in the world wisely manage their time, and Christian men in secular work are often diligent in how they spend theirs. We do not read of the Savior standing idle. “I must work the works of Him that sent me, while it is day,” He said, “the night cometh, when no man can work.” Jesus was tireless, from the beginning of His public ministry to the moment He gave His life on the cross. God’s accepted time with the sinner is now. When, if not now, is it the accepted time for His ministers to be about their Father’s business?

As McCheyne wrote to Burns while he was preaching in Dundee, “Go on, dear brother; but an inch of time remains, and then eternal ages roll on forever—just an inch of time on which we can stand and preach the way of salvation to a perishing world.”

Diligent In Preparing For The Pulpit

This general reflection on the diligent use of a minister’s time deserves special emphasis when applied to one crucial aspect of his duties: preparation for the pulpit.

Of all a minister’s labors, the most essential is preparing for the pulpit. The pulpit is his primary sphere of action; it is the great work to which God has appointed him, and it is through this work that he can accomplish the most toward the purpose of his calling. What a minister is as a man, a Christian, and a servant of the Gospel, and what he achieves for the souls of others, largely depends on the careful preparation of his sermons.

Some ministers are not lazy, yet still do not devote sufficient time to preparing for the pulpit. This, we are convinced, is a grave mistake—worse than mere inefficiency. A few exceptional individuals, endowed with extraordinary gifts and great diligence, seem to be always preparing, needing only a brief period to gather and organize their thoughts before delivering a sermon. Such men are rare, however, and even they could greatly increase their effectiveness with more thorough, intentional preparation.

We cannot emphasize enough the importance of diligent preparation for the services of the pulpit. For what duty should a minister be more prepared than for standing before hundreds, or even thousands, who wait with solemn expectation to hear the message of Divine love from his lips? Sadly, some ministers make pulpit preparation a secondary concern—a regular practice. We hesitate to criticize such a grievous habit, which is so contrary to the true spirit of ministry.

There may be times when a minister must cram his preparation into the last day of the week, and there are those who can manage this pressure. Ministers who make a habit of careful preparation are precisely those who can rise to meet such occasional challenges. When a vessel is full, it can withstand a sudden demand; when fruit is ripe on the tree, it can be quickly harvested without suffering. Yet wise ministers will not allow themselves to be frequently driven to this extremity. “Beaten oil, beaten oil, for the lamps of the sanctuary.”

It is said of the renowned Dr. Dick, a fellow student of Robert Hall and Sir James Mackintosh, and the author of one of the best systems of theology, that he began preparing his sermons for the upcoming Sabbath on the evening of the preceding Sabbath. The writer knows a living minister who once shared that, for nearly forty years, he rarely went to sleep on a Sunday evening without asking himself, What shall be the subject of my discourse for the next Sabbath? He wasn’t satisfied until he had selected a topic, which then became the focus of his thoughts, studies, prayers, and even conversation for the week. If more of us adopted this practice, would we not become better preachers?

A young and overconfident licentiate once asked the late Dr. Strong of Hartford, “How long does it take you, sir, to write a sermon?” Dr. Strong replied, “That depends on the nature and importance of my subject; sometimes two, sometimes four, sometimes six days, and sometimes nearly as many weeks.” The young man, astonished, exclaimed, “Is it possible? Why, sir, I can write a sermon in half a day at any time!” To which Dr. Strong replied, “Yes, and make nothing of it!” This exchange captures the whole issue with hasty sermon preparation. To make little of the labor is to make little of the sermon. As the Frenchman once said of his academy, “We had nothing to do, and we did it.”

There are, indeed, times when a minister is justified in setting aside elaborate sermon preparation due to pastoral visitation or other duties in the Church. Seasons of sickness, public calamity, or special outpourings of the Spirit often require pastoral care that leaves little time for intensive study. In such times, a diligent student of the Word is prepared to step into these roles. He is at ease in the lecture room, at the prayer meeting, and in the homes of his congregation. His most effective efforts during these seasons often come from spontaneous, heartfelt messages requiring little preparation, for they arise from a disciplined life, much prayer, and God’s grace in time of need. Such a minister can look to God with confidence, trusting in the promise, “As thy days, so shall thy strength be.”

Even in these intense seasons, it is beneficial not to entirely neglect careful preparation for the pulpit. Sermons crafted during times of great public distress or spiritual revival often become a minister’s most powerful and impactful messages. These sermons, filled with deep earnestness and spiritual power, are worth preserving and repeating. Some of the most stirring sermons in our language, for instance, were published by London ministers during the Great Plague of 1666. Similarly, some of the most powerful sermons by President Edwards and Dr. Griffin were prepared during the great revivals in Northampton, New Hartford, and Newark, which many ministers know well.

From 1800 to 1805, Dr. Dwight at Yale College preached with remarkable spirituality and passion during revival seasons, yet his sermons—apart from his Saturday evening lectures to students—were still carefully prepared. Likewise, during two major revivals under Dr. Emmons in Franklin, he never delivered a sermon without fully preparing and writing it, except for the concluding “improvement” sections, even when addressing assemblies of awakened and anxious people in district schoolhouses or private homes.

No minister can remain diligent without a firm resolve to do so. Hard work does not naturally bring pleasure, for labor itself was part of the curse pronounced upon humanity. While men are often busy with trivial matters, calm, serious, and productive work is not their natural tendency. The habit of diligence requires a strong, determined will. Weak resolutions will not suffice; they will vanish and be forgotten within a month. There is a natural reluctance to long, sustained effort, and overcoming this requires a firm and steadfast purpose. This struggle cannot be won without a fight, and the man who overcomes it will need great vigilance and many prayers. His ultimate aim must be to “do the work of an evangelist.” He must be committed to this labor, undeterred by difficulty and unwearied by years, with the overriding goal that “Christ should be magnified in his body, whether by life or by death.”

Are there no incentives for such commitment? Can we not, through strong motives and high encouragements, remind ourselves and others of the practicality, importance, usefulness, and honor of this work, as well as the sinfulness, discouragement, and dishonor of putting our hand to the plow and looking back?

Consider the great law of human existence in this world: “In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou eat thy bread, until thou return to the ground.” No one can escape this law without suffering its consequences, least of all a minister of the Gospel. Yet, it is not uncommon to hear some ministers complain about the demands of their work. While this does not always signify idleness, it often reveals a lack of deep engagement with their mission. Ministers are not the only ones to choose a labor-intensive calling.

Many other professions are equally demanding, with men working tirelessly from youth to old age, expecting to reach their goals through constant effort. Why should ministers of the Gospel expect otherwise? How can they hope to fulfill their calling by any other means?

There is no violation of human dependence in expecting to work hard. It is both the duty and privilege of a minister to “trust like a child and work like a man.” No aspect of God’s government, nor any principle in the physical, intellectual, or spiritual nature of humanity, nor any tenet in the economy of salvation, rewards idleness. Even in the sovereign workings of God’s grace, where “it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy,” people are still commanded to “work out their own salvation,” because it is God who “works in them to will and to do.” Dependence on God becomes their greatest encouragement; they work when God works, and God works when they work.

It is true that “God gives the increase,” but that is precisely why ministers should “plant and water.” The field must be cultivated, or it will remain barren, and God will not give the increase. For those who labor, everything else must give way to diligent planting and watering. This labor cannot be neglected, carelessly performed, or taken up only for a season and then abandoned. Just as “he that tilleth his land shall have plenty of bread,” a devoted minister is a fellow worker with God. On the other hand, a negligent minister defies every law of nature, morality, and grace, and wages a constant struggle against his Maker.

The Work of the Ministry

What is the work itself that a minister of the Gospel is engaged in? The work of a minister involves complete devotion to God and a dedication to serving others through ministry. If a minister truly believes in his calling, he is keenly aware of God’s grace—not only in making him a recipient of grace and an heir of God’s kingdom, but also in entrusting him with the responsibility of ministry. Recognizing the power of the pulpit, he knows there is no work more significant for the present and eternal good of people, making ministry uniquely desirable.

Such grace from God deserves more than ordinary loyalty; it demands total and exclusive dedication to the ministry—a commitment solemnly made before God, angels, and people. God has arranged for their material needs to be met, allowing them to focus on nurturing His people with wisdom and understanding, while devoting themselves fully to their calling.

Ministerial devotion is not simply a duty; it is driven by love, conscience, gratitude, and a sacred promise. The minister’s high calling is to tend to souls, awakening them from indifference, exposing wrongdoing, confronting sin, and urging them to seek refuge in Christ. Such a task cannot be taken lightly.

The Master they serve is the one whose name is “Wonderful, Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.” He is the Eternal One, existing before all things; the Omnipresent One who walks among the golden candlesticks, holds the stars in His right hand, and remains with His ministers until the end of the world; the Omniscient One, whom all the churches honor as the one who searches the mind and heart. He is the Savior who created them, preserved and blessed them, who owns them—they are His servants and His possession. To save them from death, He paid the ransom with His own blood and, by countless rights, claims all they are, all they have, and all they can do.

This is God incarnate, the humbled Deity, the Eternal Son who endured tears, agony, and death, taking upon Himself their burdens, offenses, griefs, and darkness, so that He might lift them from the dreadful abyss of eternal shame and suffering, and through them, proclaim this hard-won deliverance to others. The heaven-born Pearce could say, “Yes, my dear, dying Lord, I am Yours, Your servant; and if I neglect the service of such a good Master, I can expect nothing but a guilty conscience in life and a dreadful death like that of Judas or Spira.” Whitfield said, “I want more tongues, more bodies, more souls for the Lord Jesus. If I had ten thousand, He should have them all.” Payson declared, “Oh, what a Master I serve! Never was preaching such sweet work as it is now.” Such men proved the strength of their heavenly armor and did not wish to take it off until they laid it down beside their graves.

This diligent commitment to the duties of his office is what every minister owes to himself. He cannot truly respect himself, nor the office he holds, unless he is a model of diligence. Paul urged his beloved disciple to live in such a way that “his progress may be evident to all.” Young ministers often do not realize how much they can achieve until they commit themselves to earnest, persistent labor. Until they put forth effort, their abilities remain hidden, even from themselves. It is crucial for them to discover that their path can be one of continuous advancement.

The simple fact that a person can constantly grow is of immense value to a minister of the Gospel. Regardless of how small his current knowledge and holiness may be, his goal should be progress; his light should “shine more and more until the perfect day.”

But this is impossible without patient and steadfast effort. Hard work is what he needs. No group of men can be more accurately described as needing to have their intellectual abilities, spiritual strengths, and moral virtues trained through rigorous industry. They must be accustomed to effort, to challenging and often discouraging work, and to the kind of effort that eventually overcomes discouragement. Without this, they will never “make full proof of their ministry.”

Minimal Commitment or Wholehearted Devotion?

There is a clear distinction between ministers who are diligent and those who only do the minimum required. Talent without effort will not yield a fruitful ministry; industrious ministers grow in both their abilities and impact. Some ministers, though they may initially show no extraordinary promise, become esteemed through dedication, systematic study, and self-denial. They prioritize the work of the ministry above personal comfort or social gain, proving that greatness in ministry is achieved through discipline and hard work. Differences in ministers’ effectiveness often stem from persistent dedication.

A minister who squanders time in social distractions, idleness, or trivial entertainment should not expect to be powerful in the pulpit or successful in his high calling.

Every minister should aspire to excellence. And there is only one way to achieve it: as the Savior said, “He who would be the greatest among you, let him be the servant of all.” This is precisely what a minister should strive to become—the servant of God, the servant of the Church, the servant of those under his care, “the servant of all.”

If there is ambition in a minister’s heart, let it be directed toward this goal; yet, there is nothing in this service that fuels personal pride. It is not wrong to seek the kind of distinction that was granted to Barnabas, of whom it was said, “He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit, and many people were added to the Lord.” A minister should not hesitate to seek excellence in all that is good and beneficial—in the work God has given him, in turning sinners from their wrong ways, and in covering a multitude of sins.

Yet, if a minister aims for this distinction, he must be willing to pay the price through corresponding effort. To become an able minister of the New Testament will cost him dearly—it will require concern and hard work, prayer and persistence, days and nights filled with care, tears, and trembling. With time and habit, the anxiety may lessen, and the tears may dry, but the labor does not decrease. Henry IV once said of his son, who was eager to wear the crown, “He little knows what a heap of cares and toils he snatches at.” The same can be said of the ministry. Dr. Samuel Johnson remarked, “I envy not a clergyman’s life as an easy one; nor do I envy the clergyman who makes it an easy life.” It is not an easy path, and if it becomes so, then it is no true ministry, no real service.

Those seeking an idle, easy life should not consider the pulpit. They may find such comfort in the harvest field, on the ocean, at the forge, or with the tools of a carpenter, but not in faithfully fulfilling the duties of the pulpit. The work is one of labor; “we are laborers together with God.”

Many diligent ministers have found that there are times when the responsibilities are extremely heavy to bear. As Payson once said, “If any man wishes to be a successful minister, he knows not what he asks; it is better for him to consider whether he can drink Christ’s bitter cup and be baptized with His baptism.”

This may seem like a dark picture, yet we would all better understand such thoughts if we knew, as this man of God did, what it truly means to be a successful minister.

The Joy of a Diligent Ministry

We cannot overlook another thought: a diligent ministry is the most joyful ministry. Carlyle says, “Blessed is the man who has found his work; let him ask no other blessedness. Know your work, and do it; and work at it like Hercules. There is but one monster in the world—an idle man.” Payson found joy in his toil and even in his suffering. Ministers sometimes experience profound happiness in their work, especially when it is most demanding.

Whitfield remarked, “I find that the more I do for God, the more I am able to do, and the more comforted I am in doing it.” Writing to a fellow laborer, he said:

I am glad you have sounded the silver trumpet in London. “It grows as it goes” must be both your motto and mine. There is nothing like keeping the wheels oiled by action. The more we do, the more we can do; every act strengthens the habit. The best preparation for preaching on Sundays is to preach every day of the week.

Henry Martyn expressed:

I desire no other service but the service of God, laboring for souls on earth and doing His will in heaven. I wish for no other heaven on earth than preaching the precious Gospel of Christ to immortal souls. There is nothing else in this world for which I would wish to live, except that God might appoint me some work.

These are beautiful thoughts; they are the essence, the joy of ministry.

Every active and diligent minister may not always be so happy; he faces times of discouragement both within and from the world. His sky is not always clear, but he finds comfort even under the clouds. If he laments that it is not always harvest time, he rejoices that it is always seed time. If the golden autumn does not always pour out its riches before his eyes, he is still encouraged by the beauty and promise of spring and the hard work of summer. That unhealthy sensitivity and corroding sentimentality, which weaken every manly and energetic quality and every growing grace, and which causes many ministers to fall into despair, finds no place in his heart. His best, holiest, and most uplifting desires are fulfilled in the hope of responsible effort.

The most diligent ministers may indeed feel they are “unprofitable servants,” yet they are joyful servants, and happiest when most engaged in their work. Ministers lose their love for their calling when they ease up on their efforts. There can be no satisfaction in the demanding labors of the sacred office for a negligent worker. Such a person has few pleasant memories to look back on; few fragrant recollections to refresh his weary mind. The joy of a clear conscience does not belong to him. Nor does he find comfort in his current labors, however sporadic and light they may be.

He develops a complaining spirit—such an attitude naturally grows from a lazy mind. He is constantly making unhappy comparisons; instead of rejoicing in the successes of others, he only laments his own lack of it. And he has no bright hopes to encourage him; there are few blossoms of expectation along his path. It is always winter for him—never seed-time, never harvest. He wanders among leafless trees, shivering under the harsh, cold wind.

Dr. Chalmers As An Example of A Dedicated Minister

The life and death of the late Dr. Chalmers offer a beautiful glimpse into the deep joy that accompanies a hardworking minister. In all his extensive writings, I cannot recall a single gloomy or melancholy thought. Even when addressing the most serious and profound topics, he did so not without solemnity, but with a liveliness and energy that reflected a cheerful and contented spirit. I love to reflect on such a man and to linger on the evergreen richness of his thoughts. Even his stern and strenuous journey fascinates me, for it was marked by lightness and joy.

I picture him climbing the slopes of Mount Zion, sometimes grasping the rugged rocks, at other times the green branches, always challenging his own endurance as he ascended—until, like Moses on the heights of Nebo, he takes one last look at the plains below and, scarcely aware of the transition, finds himself among the people of light and love, in the presence of God and the Lamb. Thinking of such a man, I find myself saying, “I would not wish to be like a Lazzaroni. I have no desire to be a weed on the shore.”

The Final Judgment

Ministers will one day be called to account. Those who have served faithfully can look forward to this day with confidence, knowing an incorruptible crown awaits them. “They that be wise shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars forever.” For such ministers, there is eternal rest—a blessed rest—where the hardship of labor is exchanged for the joy of serving God continually.

Will it not be all the sweeter for those who, in this world, were “in labors more abundant”? They are not grasping at “a heap of cares and toils” but are looking forward to the “crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give them at His appearing.”

Are there no misgivings, as he considers the judgment, in the heart of a negligent minister of the Gospel? Can he look forward to it with peace, hope, joy, and triumph in that Savior who so tenderly commands him to feed His sheep and lambs? Has he put on the full armor of God and fought the good fight? Has he run the race to win the prize? Is he aware that a day of reckoning and eternal accountability awaits ministers as well as their congregations?

Does he remember that, when he stands with them at the bar of God, it is not impossible for the blood of souls to be found on his hands? The role of a minister adds profound weight to that final day of judgment for those entrusted to his care. The words he has spoken will either testify for or against those who heard them. And if he has been negligent and unfaithful, nothing can protect him from the terrifying fate of the unprofitable servant.

But I will not dwell further on these thoughts. There is a reproach upon the character of an idle minister, a stain not easily erased. An idle minister of the Gospel of the ever-blessed God—what a contradiction! Such a man is not among the kind of ministers the Savior envisioned when He said to His disciples, “The harvest is great, but the laborers are few; pray therefore to the Lord of the harvest, that He would send forth laborers into His harvest.”

He does not belong to the group of ministers for whom the Church prays. Instead, he should fear that he is out of place and that the sentence may be passed against him: “Cut him down, why does he use up the ground?” Rather than standing between the living and the dead to stop the plague of sin, such a minister is like the dead among the living. He buries himself alive and is more suited to the graveyard than to the active work of God’s Church on earth and her tireless battle against the powers of darkness. And when he dies, he “leaves nothing behind him but a tomb.”

It is crucial that we form a proper understanding of the true character and work of a minister of the Gospel. We are not held accountable for the number of talents we possess, but for how diligently we use them. There is no need to shy away from hard work. There are plenty of motivations to spur us on and reasons to fear neglect. Ministers may hope for appreciation from people, but even if this is withheld, the promise remains: “Lo, I am with you.” They have the light of God’s countenance, a joy unmatched by any earthly labor; for what can the world offer that compares to when God “gives them songs in the night”?

This is no time to rest on the battlefield. How can ministers be negligent when their powerful and relentless Enemy is tirelessly striving to win souls away from them and those entrusted to their care? Who would not prefer to labor and die like Payson rather than live in idle comfort in the sacred work of reconciliation? O for such a spirit! O for such a generation of ministers—ministers who, like Paul, can look back and look forward and say, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished my course!”