So Dear to Us: Leadership Lessons from Paul

By Wesley Strackbein

What motivates us to strive for hard things and take the helm, when called for?

No matter one’s station in life, there are hills to climb and responsibilities to lead. Whether we’re a parent or child, a church or civic officer, a layman or single person, we all have duties to discharge in relation to others.

Step one is to know what’s required of us. Yet whatever form our duties take, leadership must be humbly sought after with knees bowed to God’s will and a heart driven by loving service to our fellow man. While bold action is sometimes necessary, personal glory has no rightful place in its pursuit. A sincere desire to please God and sacrificially help others must be what drives us to lead.

In this study we will consider the Apostle Paul’s example of such leadership. Drawing insights from his First Missionary Journey to his ministry in Macedonia, we will contrast his love for God and the brethren with the lust for personal acclaim championed by such Greeks as Homer and Alexander the Great. Capping off this survey, we will see Paul’s heart poured out in bold but tender service to the Thessalonians in what is one of the most moving pictures of shepherdly care found in all of Scripture.

Jesus Christ: The Perfect Servant-Leader

Before examining Paul’s life record, we would do well to root our thoughts in Christ’s witness as the unmatched servant-leader.

Jesus Christ perfectly modeled selfless and sacrificial leadership when He came to earth as a man. “I seek not my own glory” (John 8:50), he declared.¹ His aim, instead, was to please His Father: “I seek not my own will, but the will of the Father which has sent me” (John 5:30).² The Father’s will was that Jesus would “lay down [His] life” for the “lost sheep” granted to Him and secure their salvation (Matt. 10:24; John 10:7-18, 27-30; Matt. 1:21; John 6:37) — a mission propelled by love: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16, NKJV).³

When the time came for Christ to fulfill this mission, He did not shrink from His agonizing trial, but “steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem” (Luke 9:51). Though inglorious shame awaited Him (Heb. 12:2), he forged ahead in obedience to His Father and in love for the unworthy sinners He was committed to save.

His disciples totally failed to get the message. Just after Christ explained that He was about to be cruelly mocked, whipped, and crucified, and then arise the third day (Mark 10:33-34; Matt. 20:17-18), James and John pushed to have Jesus grant them special seats of honor in His future kingdom (Mark 10:35-37; Matt. 20:20-21). This appeal angered the other ten (Mark 10:41; Matt. 20:24), and up through the evening of the Lord’s Supper, the twelve debated among themselves who would be the greatest in the kingdom (Luke 22:24). The disciples’ disconnect is pathetic and jarring. As Charles Spurgeon well noted, “While the mind of Jesus was occupied with his humiliation and death, his followers were thinking of their own honour.”⁴

Christ’s response to their lust for glory is instructive:

[W]hoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; And whoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant: Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered to, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many. (Matt. 20:26-28)

With the twelve utterly checked out and self-absorbed, Christ followed through in His atoning death on the cross. And, in keeping with His longsuffering patience, He gave these derelict men (save Judas) a second chance. After His resurrection, Jesus issued a renewed call to leadership, commissioning them, among other witnesses, to preach the Gospel and make disciples in every nation of the world (Mark 16:15-16; Matt. 28:18-20).

Saul the Pharisee: The Zealous Tormentor of Christians

While the Apostles Peter and John became great stand-outs in this pursuit, after Christ Himself, the New Testament gives us no more detailed and nuanced picture of servant leadership than that of Paul, the “Apostle to the Gentiles” (Rom. 11:30).

Paul was anything but this at the beginning. His early legacy was not one of warm care for the Church at all, but as the sworn enemy of Christ and His followers.

Born a Jew in the Cilician city of Tarsus, one of the period’s leading intellectual centers,⁵ Paul, was “brought up in [Jerusalem] at the feet of Gamaliel” (Acts 22:3), a celebrated rabbi of his day.⁶ Both men had impeccable credentials. Gamaliel was the grandson of Hillel the Elder, the great scholar whose House of Hillel was one of two dominant schools of rabbinic thought in the first century.⁷ Paul, known in the early record of Acts by his Jewish name, “Saul,” was — in his own words — a “free born” citizen of Rome (Acts 22:25-28), “Circumcised the eighth day, of the stock of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, an Hebrew of the Hebrews; as touching the law, a Pharisee” (Phil. 3:5).

Though both were noted Pharisees, Saul stridently differed with his elder mentor in how to respond to the early explosion of Christianity.

When a council of the Sanhedrin called for the slaying of the apostles after they refused to stop preaching the Gospel — in defiance of the council’s express orders — Gamaliel called for restraint:

Refrain from these men, and let them alone: for if this counsel or this work be of men, it will come to nothing: But if it be of God, you cannot overthrow it; lest haply you be found even to fight against God. (Acts 5:38-39)

Gamaliel convinced the Sanhedrin to “let them go” after beating them (Acts 5:40). Saul’s posture was the complete opposite. In the words of F.F. Bruce, “Gamaliel might counsel patience and moderation but, as Saul viewed the situation, it was too serious for such temporizing measures.” ⁸ Thus, “breathing out threatenings and slaughter against the disciples of the Lord” (Acts 9:1), Saul launched a reign of terror against Christians, making “havock of the church” (Acts 8:3).⁹

Saul’s later description of the torment he wrought is chilling: “beyond measure I persecuted the church of God, and wasted it” (Gal. 1:13); “[I] beat in every synagogue them that believed on [Christ]” (Acts 22:19), pursuing believers “to the death, binding and delivering into prisons both men and women” (Acts 22:4).

We’re not told how many Christians were tortured or killed by Saul’s instigation, but we know that, early on, he consented to the death of Stephen (Acts 7:54-60) — the first recorded Christian martyr — and that he later obtained written orders from the high priest to seize all known Christians in Damascus and bring them bound to Jerusalem (Acts 9:1-2).

Christ Halts Saul: A Radical Conversion and a New Commission

Saul never carried out his Damascus purge, for the very Christ he sought to squelch stopped him cold in his tracks. Luke records:

. . . as [Saul] journeyed, he came near Damascus: and suddenly there shined round about him a light from heaven: And he fell to the earth, and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why persecute you me?” And he said, “Who are you, Lord?” And the Lord said, “I am Jesus whom you persecute: it is hard for you to kick against the pricks.” And he trembling and astonished said, “Lord, what will you have me to do?” And the Lord said to him, “Arise, and go into the city, and it shall be told you what you must do.” And the men which journeyed with him stood speechless, hearing a voice, but seeing no man. And Saul arose from the earth; and when his eyes were opened, he saw no man: but they led him by the hand, and brought him into Damascus. (Acts 9:3-8)

The great persecutor of Christ was thus brought to his knees. Blinded and shaken, Saul journeyed to Damascus where he was met by the Lord’s servant, Ananias, whom God had met in a dream, directing him to restore the troublemaker’s sight and help him. Given Saul’s notorious track record, Ananias’ reluctant response is understandable:

Lord, I have heard by many of this man, how much evil he has done to your saints at Jerusalem: And here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all that call on your name. (Acts 9:13-14)

God’s answer to Ananias revealed His sovereign purpose for this humbled Pharisee, “Go your way: for [Saul] is a chosen vessel to me, to bear my name before the Gentiles, and kings, and the children of Israel” (Acts 9:15).

Ananias relented, and when he laid hands on Saul, his sight was miraculously restored. Upon being baptized, Saul then communed with the Christians in Damascus and — to the amazement of all — “straightway . . . preached Christ in the synagogues [there], that he is the Son of God” (Acts 9:20). In a remarkable turnabout, the Jews in Damascus plotted to kill Saul for his bold preaching of Jesus, but he secretly escaped the city by night with the help of fellow converts, being let down the outer wall in a basket (Acts 9:23-25).

There’s not much written about the next fourteen years of Saul’s life, after which his First Missionary Journey began. (At that point and thereafter, the Scriptures distinctly refer to him as “Paul.”)¹⁰ Judging from one later reflection, he appears to have faced death again during this time for his zealous Gospel witness (2 Cor. 11:24).¹¹ In his letter to the Galatians, Paul left a partial account of the period, emphasizing that Christ — not the original apostles — directly gave him the primary revelation of Himself while he was in Arabia (Gal. 1:12-2:1), acting as the divine author of his apostleship.

Diligent and Loving Follow-up: Paul’s First Missionary Journey

Beginning in Acts 13, Paul takes center stage in Luke’s account with the launch of the apostle’s First Missionary Journey. The Church of Antioch sanctioned the mission by laying hands on him and Barnabas. Pursuant to their commission, the two men, aided by John Mark at the start, preached the Gospel on the island of Cyprus (Acts 13:4-13) and then on the mainland of Asia Minor (Acts 13:14-14:26).

While many lessons can be drawn from this eventful outreach, Paul’s courage and loving discipleship of others stand out. In reading the Book of Acts, we learn that Paul and Barnabas not only “waxed bold” (Acts 13:46) in their preaching, but that they had abiding love and care for the new converts that came to Christ in Antioch of Pisidia, Iconium, and Lystra.

In all three cities they had fruitful ministry, but in all three cities they faced fierce persecution which forced them to flee. In two of the three cases, we know that the situation was so volatile that their very lives hung in the balance.

From the record given, Antioch of Pisidia was the least extreme of the three. There the local Jews “raised persecution against Paul and Barnabas, and expelled them out of their coasts” (Acts 13:50). In Iconium, a spiteful group of Jews and Gentiles sought “to stone them” (Acts 14:5), and when Paul and Barnabas were made aware of it, they “fled to Lystra and Derbe” (Acts 14:6). Lystra was the worst, as there Paul was actually stoned by pursuing “Jews from Antioch and Iconium” and presumed dead, before he “rose up” and left with Barnabas to Derbe (Acts 14:19-20).

Though we’re told they “shook off the dust of their feet” when they were thrust out of Antioch of Pisidia (Acts 13:51), the “shook off the dust” phrase cannot be construed as an expression of “good riddance” or an “Oh, well, we tried” mantra.¹² Nothing could be further from the truth. One need only to carefully read to the end of Luke’s record of this missionary endeavor to learn the full story.

Remarkably, after a brief time in Derbe, Paul and Barnabas made a point to retrace their steps back through these same three cities where they’d faced serious harm in order to further encourage the faith of the new believers and shore up the organization of the fledgling churches there.

Here is Luke’s heartening summary:

And when [Paul and Barnabas] had preached the gospel to that city [Derbe], and had taught many, they returned again to Lystra, and to Iconium, and Antioch, Confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God. And when they had ordained them elders in every church, and had prayed with fasting, they commended them to the Lord, on whom they believed. (Acts 14:21-23)

In their helpful work on Paul’s ministry, William John Conybeare and John Saul Howson offer this poignant description of the dynamic:

[Paul] revisited the places where he had been reviled and persecuted, but where he had left as sheep in the desert the disciples whom his Master had enabled him to gather. They needed building up and strengthening in the faith, comforting in the midst of their inevitable suffering, and fencing round by permanent institutions. Undaunted therefore by the dangers that awaited them, our missionaries return to them, using words of encouragement which none but the founders of a true religion would have ventured to address to their earliest converts, that “we can only enter into the kingdom of God by passing through much tribulation.”¹³

Albert Barnes’ remark is also on point:

The welfare of the infant churches they deemed of more consequence than their own safety; and they threw themselves again into the midst of danger, to comfort and strengthen those just converted to God.¹⁴

The bottom line is this: Paul wasn’t a one-splash Johnny who stormed into town with dramatic pizazz only to leave when the first serious controversy erupted. He had a dogged commitment to personal discipleship — fueled by genuine love and care — that required diligent follow-up so that the faith of the new believers would grow and endure.

While long known for his tireless zeal,¹⁵ Paul’s example here shows profound character growth, revealing the heart of a true shepherd willing to lay down his life for the sheep. Thankfully, this moving conclusion to Paul’s First Missionary Journey was not an isolated event, as it signaled a new pattern of loving service which marked his ministry thereafter.

A God-Ordained Impasse: The Macedonian Call 

The apostle’s care for his Asian brethren continued.

Following his participation at the Jerusalem Council and a season of preaching in Antioch, “Paul said to Barnabas, ‘Let us go again and visit our brothers in every city where we have preached the word of the LORD, and see how they do’” (Acts 15:36).

Barnabas agreed with the plan, but sharp contention arose between the two men when Barnabas wanted John Mark to join them for this second trip, to which Paul objected.¹⁶ When they couldn’t come to terms, Barnabas took John Mark and sailed to Cyprus, while Silas joined Paul, with the two men passing through Syria and Cilicia before coming to Derbe and Lystra.

It was there that a local convert — “well reported of by the brothers that were at Lystra and Iconium” — arose to active service (Acts 16:2). His name was Timothy. Born of a Greek father and a Jewish mother, the young man so greatly impressed Paul that he asked him to join their ministry team.

A short time later, the men hit an impasse. Similar to Paul’s Damascus experience, God brought their efforts to an abrupt halt. Luke writes:

Now when they had gone through Phrygia and the region of Galatia, they were forbidden by the Holy Spirit to preach the word in Asia. After they had come to Mysia, they tried to go into Bithynia, but the Spirit did not permit them. So passing by Mysia, they came down to Troas. (Acts 16:6-7, NKJV)¹⁷

There God intervened with new marching orders:

And a vision appeared to Paul in the night. A man of Macedonia stood and pleaded with him, saying, “Come over to Macedonia and help us.” (Acts 16:8, NKJV)¹⁸

The plea in his vision is striking. It shows the desperate need the Macedonians had for sound and committed leadership. Paul’s service in Asia Minor showed his heart for just such a task, and now God was directing him to meet the spiritual needs of people in a new land.

The Lord’s redemptive purpose — to give salvation to lost sinners of every nation (Matt. 28:18-20; Rev. 5:9) — was powerfully unfolding. In answering the “Macedonian Call,” Paul and his companions would now herald the Gospel on European soil — a momentous event for the spread of Christianity.

Troas in the Broader Landscape: A Vainglorious Legacy

Before delving further into Paul’s new mission, it behooves us to consider the broader landscape behind it. The more we understand the cultural, historical, and geographical backdrop, the better we can grasp the significance of his work and message. Coloring in this canvas will give deeper meaning and more fully bring to life the lessons of leadership that Paul has to teach us.

Geography plays an important part in the equation. Northwestern Asia Minor, where Paul’s team was briefly stalled out, was marked with a centuries-long legacy of clashing egos — of vainglorious warriors who sought eternal fame by their daring exploits. Chief among them were Achilles and Hector, followed by Xerxes and Alexander the Great.

The Troas of Paul’s day drew its name from the nearby ruins of Troy, the once-great walled city, which—more than a thousand years earlier — hosted the most renowned war of antiquity.¹⁹

Troy’s location on the Aegean Sea was geographically significant, as it guarded the western entrance to the Hellespont (later named the Dardanelles), the narrow strait that connects the Aegean to the Black Sea. Whoever controlled this strategic shipping lane not only held a distinct military advantage, but also wielded major influence in the trade between the powers of the West and East.²⁰

Pivotal Backdrop: The Trojan War in Context

While access to the Hellespont was a prize to fight for, the Trojan War was ignited by a personal scandal. The “face that launch’d a thousand ships” was that of the beautiful Helen, wife to King Menelaus of Sparta.²¹ Following an official visit to Sparta by Paris — son of King Priam of Troy — Helen left Sparta with the Trojan prince.

Whether she was abducted against her will or committed a flagrant act of adultery, Helen’s disappearance with Paris caused a ferocious uproar.²² In response to this insult, King Agamemnon of Mycenae, brother to King Menelaus and the most powerful Greek ruler of his day, rallied a vast host of Achaean warriors, including Ajax, Odysseus, and Achilles to cross the Aegean and lay siege to Troy.

Though details of this ten-year war have been passed down through various sources (which differ with each other on sundry points), the most famous and influential account is given by the poet Homer in the Iliad, with his Odyssey covering the aftermath.²³ Homer’s rendering of the great battle between the Achaeans (his generic term for the Greeks) and the Trojans was written roughly five centuries after the war and is full of fanciful embellishments which evoke the capricious wranglings of the gods and goddesses of the Greek pantheon.²⁴ With this in view, it is difficult to sort fact from fiction in reading Homer. Yet — setting aside scholarly quarrels — what is unmistakable is that the motivations and struggles of the key characters, as Homer presented them, profoundly shaped the thinking of Greeks for centuries.²⁵

Homer’s Heroes and the Lust for Eternal Glory

One of the most enduring themes of the Iliad and the Odyssey is the concept of kleos, a key Greek word for “glory.” In his article, “What Did ‘Kleos’ Mean for the Greeks?” N.S. Gill explains the meaning:

Kleos is a term used in Greek epic poetry that means immortal fame, but it can also mean rumor or renown. A very important theme in Homer’s great epics . . .  kleos often referred to having one’s achievements venerated in poetry. As classicist Gregory Nagy notes in his book The Ancient Greek Hero in 24 Hours, a hero’s glory was treasured in song and so, unlike the hero, the song would never die.²⁶

In the Iliad — which covers only about two months in the Trojan War’s final year²⁷— the desire to achieve kleos is showcased through the choices made by the two main competing characters: Achilles, the Myrmidon, and Hector, Prince of Troy.

As Paris’ elder brother, Hector was more mindful of his duties, and his quest for kleos is most clearly seen through a gripping interchange between him and his wife, Andromache. Fearing Hector would fall in battle, she made a fervent appeal to her husband to hold back, to which he gave reply.

Homer pictures the scene thusly:

Andromache, stood close beside him, letting her tears fall, and clung to his hand and called him by name and spoke to him:

“Dearest, your own great strength will be your death, and you have not pity on your little son, nor on me, ill-starred, who soon must be your widow; for presently the Achaians, gathering together, will set upon you and kill you; and for me it would be far better to sink into the earth when I have lost you, for there is no other consolation for me after you have gone to your destiny — only grief. . . . you it is who are my young husband. Please take pity upon me then, [and] stay here on the rampart. . . .”²⁸

Then tall Hektor of the shining helm answered her:

“All these things are in my mind also, lady; yet I would feel deep shame before the Trojans, and the Trojan women with trailing garments, if like a coward I were to shrink from the fighting; and the spirit will not let me, since I have learned to be valiant and to fight always among the foremost ranks of the Trojans, winning for my own self glory [kleos], and for my father.²⁹

In Homer’s telling, Achilles’ drive for kleos is given in his answer to the stark choice, posed by his mother, of a quiet but inglorious life of peace back in Achaea, or of death in battle at Troy and eternal glory:

For my mother Thetis the goddess of silver feet tells me I carry two sorts of destiny toward the day of my death. Either, if I stay here and fight beside the city of the Trojans, my return home is gone, but my glory [kleos] is everlasting; but if I return home to the beloved land of my fathers, the excellence of my glory [kleos] is gone, but there will be a long life left for me, and my end in death will not come to me quickly.³⁰

While we cannot fault Hector for defending his homeland, the self-glory he and Achilles thirsted after was utter vanity. Their desire to win fame and be celebrated for all of time for their deeds of valor was a testament to their unchecked pride.

Both Hector and Achilles got their wish for lasting renown. Hector famously fell to Achilles in one-on-one combat.³¹ Achilles, on the other hand, died from an arrow shot by Paris, which, sources outside Homer maintain, was lodged in his heel — from whence comes the term, “Achilles’ heel.”³²

Homer’s Iliad closes just prior to the sacking of Troy, but other accounts round out the story. ³³ After ten years of failed attempts to defeat King Priam’s city, the Achaeans finally triumphed through the ruse of the Trojan Horse, a stratagem attributed to the sly Odysseus, King of Ithaca.³⁴

Alexander the Great: The Marcher Baron of Self-Glory

Ithaca’s hero would get his own book by Homer — The Odyssey — which chronicles Odysseus’ adventures after the Trojan War. Yet it was the legacy of Achilles, not Odysseus, who fired the mind of the greatest Greek warrior ever to follow him — Alexander the Great.

The son of King Philip II of Macedon and a direct descendant of Achilles through his mother Olympia, Alexander was consumed by the Trojan War epic.³⁵ Not only was he nicknamed “Achilles” at a young age by his early tutor Lysimachus,³⁶ but Alexander had his later mentor Aristotle prepare him a special copy of the Iliad which he kept under his pillow at night, along with his personal dagger, while on campaign.³⁷

Alexander’s father was the King Agamemnon of his day, wielding power over all of Greece. A brilliantly successful warrior, Philip had a slew of military victories, including conquests of Thessaly and Crenides, the last of which he renamed Philippi after himself.³⁸ After defeating the Thebans and Athenians at the Battle of Chaeronea in 338 BC, he formed the League of Corinth, a confederation of Greek city states which swore fealty to him and his descendants.³⁹ One of the league’s primary goals was to band together to defeat the Persian Empire, an aim King Philip began actively planning before he was abruptly assassinated in 336 BC.⁴⁰

With his father dead, Alexander rose to the throne at age twenty and spent the first two years of his reign consolidating power. After quelling rebellions led by Thebes, Athens, and Thessaly, the young warrior was recognized as Greece’s chief military leader and, joined by his Greek allies, he was ready to take on Persia.⁴¹

Leading his army onward, Alexander strove to make his mark. Driven by a sense of history, he carefully patterned his movements in light of the great warriors and military feats of the past.

More than a century and a half before, Persia’s King Xerxes amassed an enormous army to invade mainland Greece to avenge his father Darius’ surprising loss to the Greeks at the Battle of Marathon in 490 BC.⁴² As with Alexander, Xerxes thought and acted in bold strokes. Upon approaching the Hellespont in 480, he ordered his engineers to build pontoon boats to form a temporary bridge for his troops to cross the strait into Europe.⁴³ Once completed, Xerxes went to nearby Troy where, in Herodotus’ record, he “made an offering of a thousand oxen to the Trojan Minerva, while the [priests] poured libations to the heroes.”⁴⁴ Herodotus provides Xerxes’ goals in the king’s own words, given in a speech to his men: to “win glory” and “obtain satisfaction and revenge” against the Greeks.⁴⁵

Alexander pursued Xerxes’ path in reverse, as he crossed the Hellespont from the opposite side and then made his own pilgrimage to Troy. Philip Freeman describes the scene of his landing:

As the coast drew near, Alexander took his spear and cast it with all his might onto the beach, claiming Asia for himself as spear-won from the gods. Then he leapt ashore before the boat had even reached land and waded through the surf onto Persian territory. ⁴⁶

While Xerxes’ visit to Priam’s city was marked by ceremony, Alexander’s homages to the past ran deeper, particularly in his honoring of Achilles. Plutarch writes:

[Alexander] went to Ilion [Troy] where he sacrificed to Athena and made libation to the heroes. He anointed the gravestone of Achilles with oil and went with a run with his companions . . . and then laid a wreath, counting Achilles happy that in life that he had had a faithful friend and in death a great herald [i.e., Homer]. During his exploration and tour of the city, he was asked if he wanted to see Alexander’s [i.e., Paris’s] lyre, he said he had not the least interest in it; he was looking for Achilles’, to which Achilles sang the deeds of good men.⁴⁷  

Oxford scholar Robin Lane Fox gives this synopsis of Alexander’s visit to Troy:

Throughout, Alexander’s purpose was written large in his detailed behaviour. . . . in its every tribute it had evoked the hero Achilles, his fellow seeker for fame and glory. . . . The new Achilles, facing his sternest test, had come first to honour the old . . . because Homer’s hero had fired his imagination.⁴⁸

Achilles’ quest for immortal glory (kleos) — as described by Homer in the Iliad — was imitated by Alexander, and this pursuit was intensely personal to him. Fox notes that Alexander “chose to live [Homer’s ideals], not as a distant reader but more in the spirit of a marcher baron living out the ballads which mirrored his own world.”⁴⁹

And march he did. Not only did Alexander utterly defeat the Persian Empire, but the cultural impact that came in the wake of his vast conquests reverberated for centuries through his successors.⁵⁰ The world of Paul’s day, without question, was profoundly shaped by this legacy. The fact that the New Testament was written in Greek is one clear evidence of this truth. Philip Freeman remarks:

The spread of Alexander’s Hellenistic culture throughout the Roman world and beyond became a prime factor in the eventual success of Christianity. The New Testament and most other popular early Christian literature were written in the Greek language, not the native Aramaic of Jesus of Nazareth. The almost universal knowledge of Greek allowed the Gospels to be read with equal ease in Jerusalem, Egypt, and Rome. When the Apostle Paul wrote his New Testament letters to the native people of Asia Minor, Greece, or to the Romans themselves, they were composed in the tongue of Alexander.⁵¹

Yet as much as historians delight in trumpeting the connection between Alexander the Great and the New Testament era, what they often fail to mention is that Paul’s witness — echoing his master, Jesus Christ — was a direct affront to the Greeks’ lust for glory that Homer so famously extolled. And in no part of the apostle’s ministry is this more clearly seen then when he and his companions — which consisted of Silas and Timothy, now joined by Luke — answered the “Macedonian Call.”⁵² Sailing from Troas, near the ruins of ancient Troy, Paul modeled a pattern of leadership in the land of Achilles that rejected vainglory for humble and heartfelt service to others.

Ministry at Philippi: Humble Service, Not Self-Seeking Fanfare

The Macedonian mission began at Philippi.

Renamed after Alexander’s father following Philip’s defeat of the city in 356 BC, the once walled stronghold was made a Roman colony with an established military garrison by order of Octavian (later Caesar Augustus) after he and Marc Antony defeated Brutus and Cassius on the plain just west of there in 42 BC.⁵³

Given this momentous history as well as Paul’s dramatic vision to come to Macedonia, one might expect his team’s arrival to begin with a bang. Yet no fireworks or fanfare greeted them when they came.

Philippi had no synagogue, and it appears that it took Paul and his team a number of days to get the ball rolling. This finally occurred when they met with a group of women by a river outside the city gates, where — in John Gill’s rendering of the original text — “was thought to be a place of prayer” (Acts 16:13, Gill).⁵⁴ The scene, in Luke’s words, comes across as rather informal: “we sat down and spoke to the women who met there” (Acts 16:13, NKJV).⁵⁵

Though this make-shift prayer meeting appears unimpressive, the spirit of God moved in the moment on the heart of Lydia, a clothes merchant from Thyatira, who became the first known Christian convert in Europe.

Paul and his team’s outreach to a small, seemingly obscure gathering of women is an indictment against the likes of Alexander and Achilles who fawned for the public limelight and the praise of men.

While theatrics would soon follow for Paul in Philippi — as he boldly freed a young woman possessed by a demon, landing him and Silas in jail before God miraculously freed their bonds through an earthquake — his willingness to share the Gospel in an unceremonious, less-than-grand setting, is instructive. It shows a genuine care for people in need rather than a concern to further one’s personal ego.

In his later letter to the Philippian church, Paul drove home this theme. Wholly refuting the Greek’s obsession with personal glory, he called on believers to follow Christ’s example of humble servanthood instead:

Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better than themselves. Look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others. Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But made himself of no reputation, and took on him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: And being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself, and became obedient to death, even the death of the cross. (Phil. 2:3-8)

While exhorting the Philippians to assume a humble posture of service one toward another, Paul in no way suggested that they avoid bold action when it was needed. In fact, he reports how his courage to face prison for the Gospel’s sake had emboldened others in their witness. Writing from a Roman jail, Paul stated:

But I would you should understand, brothers, that the things which happened to me have fallen out rather to the furtherance of the gospel; So that my bonds in Christ are manifest in all the palace, and in all other places; And many of the brothers in the Lord, waxing confident by my bonds, are much more bold to speak the word without fear.  (Phil. 1:12-14)

Even though facing potential death for his faith, Paul stressed his resolve to not recoil from speaking the truth, “that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall be magnified in my body, whether it be by life, or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain” (Phil. 1:20-21).

What shines through in Paul’s testimony to the Philippians is not proud self-promotion, but a deep love for Christ and His people. Returning back to Paul’s missionary journey, we see this on display following his release from the Philippian jail. Before moving on in their travels, Paul and Silas sought to personally encourage their fellow believers at Philippi: “And they went out of the prison, and entered into the house of Lydia: and when they had seen the brothers, they comforted them, and departed” (Acts 16:40).

Macedonia’s Great Hub: The Gospel Planted in Thessalonica

Leaving Luke at Philippi, Paul, Silas, and Timothy made their way west to their second major stop in Macedonia — the thriving metropolis of Thessalonica.⁵⁶ Named after Alexander’s sister by her husband Cassander — a key successor to the great conqueror — Thessalonica was the leading city in Macedonia in Paul’s day and remains so till this day.⁵⁷

Not only was Thessalonica large and prosperous, but it was strategically situated. Pastor John MacArthur writes:

Perhaps Thessalonica’s greatest asset was its location astride the Egnatian Way, the major east-west highway of the Roman Empire, which ran from what is now to Albania to Byzantium (Constantinople; Istanbul). Thessalonica’s main street was part of that great highway linking Rome with the eastern regions of the empire.⁵⁸

If Paul wanted to make a name for himself in Macedonia, Thessalonica would have been the place to do so. And while this was the furthest thing from his intentions, this is precisely what his detractors accused him of.

Unlike at Philippi, Thessalonica had an established Jewish synagogue where Paul and his team preached for three Sabbaths.⁵⁹ As they proclaimed Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection, some Jews and “a great multitude” of “devout Greeks,” including leading women of the town, believed (Acts 17:4).

Moved with jealous envy, unbelieving Jews in Thessalonica fomented a rowdy mob to raise a ruckus against Paul’s ministry. Setting “the city in an uproar,” they leveled this accusation to the local rulers:

These that have turned the world upside down are come here also. . . . and these all do contrary to the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, one Jesus. (Acts 17:6-7)

One need not look hard to realize that Paul viewed Christ as supreme over Caesar. To his comrade Timothy — who was by his side at Thessalonica — he later declared Christ to be “the blessed and only Potentate, the King of kings, and Lord of lords” (1 Tim. 6:15).⁶⁰ But Paul’s message in Macedonia’s great hub was not one of political sedition, as alleged. Nonetheless, to escape the immediate tumult, Paul and his team were compelled to flee Thessalonica by night and fight these false claims another day.

Answering His Critics: A Window into Paul’s Heart and Soul

Following brief but impactful labors in Berea and Athens, Paul settled in Corinth for an extended season of ministry.⁶¹ From this base, Paul wrote a letter to the Thessalonian church which many believe was his earliest epistle.⁶² In this pastoral missive, the apostle squarely addressed questions about his motivations as a leader that still festered among the people there. In his Exposition of Thessalonians, William Hendriksen sets the stage for this lingering controversy:

A careful study of Paul’s Defense shows that the slander by means which his enemies were trying to undermine the influence of his message amounted to this: “Paul and his associates are deluded individuals who for selfish reasons and with trickery are trying to exploit the people.”⁶³

Significantly, Paul’s answer to these misrepresentations is not a mere intellectual exercise; his apologetic, found in 1 Thessalonians 2:1-12, is intensely personal. Paul gives a defense of his leadership, but he goes much deeper than that, showing what drove him as a man at his very core. Pastor Bill Einwechter put it this way:

. . . Paul’s response is a vindication of his ministry and his motives. But, my friends, it is more than that. It is a window into the heart and soul of the great apostle to the Gentiles and the ministry that he conducted in the spirit of the Lord.⁶⁴

While Paul’s leadership traits are found throughout the Book of Acts and in all of his thirteen epistles, few texts in Scripture paint such a clear picture of what made him tick like these twelve verses do:

For yourselves, brethren, know our entrance in unto you, that it was not in vain: But even after that we had suffered before, and were shamefully entreated, as ye know, at Philippi, we were bold in our God to speak unto you the gospel of God with much contention. For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile: But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which trieth our hearts. For neither at any time used we flattering words, as ye know, nor a cloke of covetousness; God is witness: Nor of men sought we glory, neither of you, nor yet of others, when we might have been burdensome, as the apostles of Christ. But we were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her children: So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us. For ye remember, brethren, our labour and travail: for labouring night and day, because we would not be chargeable unto any of you, we preached unto you the gospel of God. Ye are witnesses, and God also, how holily and justly and unblameably we behaved ourselves among you that believe: As ye know how we exhorted and comforted and charged every one of you, as a father does his children, That you would walk worthy of God, who has called you to his kingdom and glory. (1 Thess. 2:1-12)

Their Entrance in Context: Fruit Wrought by God and Bold Perseverance

Paul begins his defense by stating that “yourselves, brethren, know our entrance in unto you, that it was not in vain” (1 Thess. 2:1).

Thayer’s Greek Lexicon defines “vain” as “fruitless” or “without effect,”⁶⁵ so Paul’s point is that he and his companion’s work in Thessalonica was not without obvious fruit—the “proof was in the pudding,” in other words. In case the Thessalonians (or others) might be tempted to see this “fruit” as the result of some excitable frenzy that often follows the trail of charismatic charlatans, Paul explained that it was wrought by God. It came by His sovereign “election” through the power of “the Holy Ghost,” so the Divine Author—rather than Paul and his team — was deserving of the praise:

Knowing, brethren beloved, your election of God. For our gospel came not unto you in word only, but also in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance; as ye know what manner of men we were among you for your sake. And ye became followers of us, and of the Lord, having received the word in much affliction, with joy of the Holy Ghost (1 Thess. 1:4-6)

Building on this, Paul gives the immediate context of his team’s coming to Thessalonica from Philippi:

But even after that we had suffered before, and were shamefully entreated, as you know, at Philippi, we were bold in our God to speak to you the gospel of God with much contention. (1 Thess. 2:2)

At Philippi, Paul and Silas were beaten with “many stripes” and “cast . . . into prison” for their Gospel witness (Acts 16:23). In response to these painful hardships, lesser souls would have given up the cause or watered down their message to be more palatable. Not so Paul and his trusty men. Rather than cow to such pressure, they soldiered on to Thessalonica with unflinching courage. “Bold” were they — the Hebrew word meaning “frank in utterance, or confident in spirit and demeanor,” — as they preached “the gospel of God” to the Thessalonians, though still met by open “contention.”⁶⁶

Paul Digs Deeper: More Than a Rousing Boast

As much as such inspiration ought to warm our blood to stalwartly serve our great Lord amid adversity — and, most assuredly, it should — the motives that compel such service must be right and pure, a point Paul understood.

By the time the “Apostle to the Gentiles” wrote this letter to the Thessalonian church from his post in Corinth, he had journeyed through the land of the ancient Achaeans and Macedonians. He had walked were Alexander trod and debated philosophers at Mars’ Hill in Athens, where the legacies of such feted greats as the bard Homer, and his self-seeking hero Achilles, were well known. Paul was also familiar with the dissimulating academics, vain religious hucksters, and shady showmen of his day, some of whom he had encountered first hand.⁶⁷

The point is that Paul was well aware of the prideful Greek mindset that spurred men on to brave feats and stunning heroics in pursuit of their own selfish agenda. So rather than give some rousing boast of his personal boldness and end the discussion there, he went deep below the surface in his letter to reveal the true heart motivations which moved him and his companions to do the positive things they did, and to avoid the negative vices they avoided.

No Ulterior Motives or Man-Pleasing: Only Words Approved by God

In answer to his critics, Paul declares that there were no wicked desires that tainted their outreach: “For our exhortation was not of deceit, nor of uncleanness, nor in guile” (1 Thess. 2:3).

In looking at the meaning of these three terms, we learn that deceit means a fraudulent “straying from orthodoxy or piety”;⁶⁸ uncleanness means a physical or moral impurity,⁶⁹ which can include “lustful, luxurious, [or] profligate living”;⁷⁰ and guile means “a trick (bait)”⁷¹ a “lure” or a “snare.”⁷²

These dirty tricks are the common ploys of pompous deceivers, yet none of these filthy vices were true of the apostle and his men. As Adam Clarke pithily summarizes: They “had no false pretences, and were influenced by no sinister motives.”⁷³ Their intentions — as Paul will continue to emphasize in this discussion — were pure.

Then states Paul: “But as we were allowed of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which tries our hearts” (1 Thess. 2:4).

The word “allowed,” as translated in the Authorized Version, is better rendered “approved,” as the ESV gives it in English, and in employing this term, Paul is emphasizing that his team’s mission was directly ordained by God.⁷⁴ In his later epistles, Paul went to greater lengths to build the case of his divine calling as an apostle,⁷⁵ and Luke would later give the world the official record of the “Macedonian Call.” But Paul takes it a step further. Not only was their calling from God, but so was the message they gave: “But as we were [approved] of God to be put in trust with the gospel, even so we speak; not as pleasing men, but God, which tries our hearts” (1 Thess. 2:4).

Paul makes it plain that his team’s message was not tailored to curry favor with their audience and satisfy their whims, but to please God, who gave them a sure word to faithfully steward. And from this word they would not stray.

That ministers face temptations to please men is real, as John MacArthur states, yet Paul and his cohorts avoided it:

In the ministry, there is always pressure to mitigate the message, to be inoffensive to sinners, to make the gospel acceptable to them. But such a compromise had no place in Paul’s strategy. Instead, he had full confidence in God’s power to overcome all opposition and achieve His redemptive purpose.⁷⁶

Bill Einwechter hits the nail on the head with these remarks on the text:

A true preacher doesn’t speak of himself or from himself, but he speaks of God and from the Scriptures, giving a faithful account of what the meaning of those words are.

A man should never seek praise from his ministry, because if he does, in the end, he will shape his ministry to get the praise that he lusts for.⁷⁷

“It’s the smile on God’s face [men should] want, not the smile on man’s.”⁷⁸ This line by Pastor Joe Morecraft encapsulates the heart that Paul and his companions had in their labors.

Not Once Did We Flatter You: True Hope through Loving Confrontation

Before getting to the positive spirit of care that drove Paul and his team, the apostle gives one more crucial round of negatives that they shunned in their outreach:

For neither at any time used we flattering words, as you know, nor a cloak of covetousness; God is witness: Nor of men sought we glory, neither of you, nor yet of others, when we might have been burdensome, as the apostles of Christ. (1 Thess. 2:5-6)

There’s a lot to unpack here, but we must begin by discussing flattery. Not once, Paul states, did his team resort to this crooked vice.

God’s word has much to say about flattery, and at every turn, it is shown to be evil. Proverbs teaches us to “meddle not with him that flatters with his lips” (Prov. 20:19). The reason given? “A man who flatters his neighbor spreads a net for his feet” (Prov. 29:5, NKJV),⁷⁹ for “a flattering mouth works ruin” (Prov. 26:28). Not surprisingly, God pronounces judgment on those who practice this sin: “The LORD shall cut off all flattering lips . . .” (Ps. 12:3).

So just what is flattery?

Noah Webster’s 1828 Dictionary defines the term as praise and “commendation bestowed for the purpose of gaining favor and influence,” while John MacArthur adds this helpful nuance: “The person using flattering speech compliments someone else merely as a ploy to win favor with that person or to gain power over them.”⁸⁰

Upon reading these definitions, it should be apparent that a person who flatters does not seek the good of the person they butter up, but in speaking fawning words, they seek their own selfish interests. This may simply be done because the flatterer wants the person to like them, or the aim could be far more complex and devious.

While condemning flattery, the Proverbs commend loving rebuke, when it is called for:

Whoever rebukes a man will afterward find more favor than he who flatters with his tongue. (Prov. 28:23, NKJV)⁸¹

Open rebuke is better than secret love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. (Prov. 27:5-6)

Though it must be approached in the right spirit, the person who cares for another’s soul must be willing to speak the truth to them when they err.⁸² This was the pattern Paul and his companions pursued.⁸³ In the previous chapter, Paul relates that the “manner of entering in we had to you” was such that “you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9).

The implication: By making sin out to be the evil that is — rather than soft-pedaling it through flattery — Paul led the Thessalonians to true hope in Christ.

No Cloak of Covetousness: We Would Not Lean on You for Money

Not only did Paul not employ flattery in his work at Thessalonica, but “neither at any time used [he] . . . a cloak of covetousness; God is witness” (1 Thess. 2:5).

Albert Barnes explains the phrase “cloak of covetousness” this way:

The word rendered “cloke” here . . . means, properly, “what is shown or appears before any one”; i.e., show, pretence, pretext, put forth in order to cover one’s real intent, Mt 23:14 Mr 12:40 Lu 20:47. The meaning here is, that he did not put on a pretence or appearance of piety for the sake of promoting the schemes of covetousness.⁸⁴

In today’s world, cable television is replete with showy ministers who greedily hock their messages for money — in “Jesus’ name.”⁸⁵ Among those they snooker are home-bound, little old ladies who freely give their “small mite” to support these swindlers. This point is personal, not just a broad observation, as a dear elderly widow in this author’s family gave a large portion of her small income to one such “ministry” that turned out to be a sham.

Paul and his team were not only void of such evil intent, but they worked doubly hard to financially support themselves on the side (likely making tents, Acts 18:3), rather than leaning on the Thessalonians for money. This is the clear implication of verse nine: “For you remember, brothers, our labor and travail: for laboring night and day, because we would not be chargeable to any of you, we preached to you the gospel of God” (1 Thess. 2:9).

Paul was not against receiving donations, as believers at Philippi gave to his work at Thessalonica (Phil. 4:16), and he later expressed to Timothy that those who labor in the word are worthy of being paid for their efforts (1 Tim. 5:17-18). This said, Paul made it plain that he and his associates were not driven by greedy gain, a vice every Christian should shun.

Nor of Men Sought We Glory: We Did Not Throw Our Weight Around

Paul’s final point of who he and his men were not stands in stark contrast to what Homer championed and what celebrated Greeks such as Achilles and Alexander the Great strove after—personal glory: “Nor of men sought we glory, neither of you, nor yet of others, when we might have been burdensome, as the apostles of Christ” (1 Thess. 2:5).

While “heathens cherished [glory] as the spur to great achievements”⁸⁶ Paul and his companions chose selfless service instead. One indicator of this is found in Paul’s use of the term “burdensome.” Bill Einwechter explains:

The word translated “burdensome” here comes from a root that means “weight.” Here it is used with the verb “to be,” and it means literally “to be in weight.” Hence to use their weight—to insist on one’s own importance and authority is the idea. . . . The circumstances were such that [Paul and his team] might have thrown [their] weight around when [they] came to Thessalonica. . . . that’s the idea.”⁸⁷

The fact that Paul had real authority is a point he made in this same defense, saying their work was “approved” by God (1 Thess. 2:4). Yet Paul and his men didn’t flaunt it in a burdensome way to those they led. They didn’t toot their own horn or harshly lord their position of leadership to further their own glory.

The obvious lesson for us all is well stated by Einwechter: “If you have authority, don’t abuse it or misuse it. Instead, use your authority as the basis of serving others. Do not throw your weight around, but bless others.”⁸⁸

You Were Dear to Us: A Love that Cares Poured Out

Having established a spate of negatives of what he and his companions were not, Paul then delves deeper into what drove them to serve.

Thus far in the positive column we’ve learned that their bold and uncompromising witness (1 Thess. 2:2) was propelled by a desire to please God and faithfully steward the word entrusted to them (1 Thess. 2:4).

But now Paul more fully reveals his heart.

What he writes at this juncture is one of the most beautiful and moving pictures of leadership found in all of Scripture. Paul’s words drip with personal affection as he uses the intimate metaphor of a mother and a father to describe his care for the fledgling flock at Thessalonica. His emotions are palpable; his heart is on display with a warmth that cannot be missed. These are people he dearly loves:

. . . we were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherishes her children: So being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted to you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because you were dear to us. . . . As you know how we exhorted and comforted and charged every one of you, as a father does his children, That you would walk worthy of God, who has called you to his kingdom and glory (1 Thess. 2:7-8; 11-12).

It’s hard to find words that improve upon the simple purity of Paul’s. The deep nature and instincts of the maternal and paternal bond toward the raising of children is inherent to creation, and the imagery he draws from these connections are personal and poignant. Save for the love a husband and wife have toward one another, no other more intimate love-relationship could be employed to convey the depth and breadth of Paul’s care.

Nowhere to be found in this picture, in John Gill’s words, is “a haughty imperious manner; assuming power and dominion, lording it over God’s heritage, and commanding persons to do homage and honour to them.”⁸⁹

What’s found, instead, in Pastor Al Martin’s words, is a “wise, assertive, concerned spiritual father . . . [who] manifested the gentle, sensitive love of a nursing mother.”⁹⁰

“. . . [T]he fundamental grace that characterized Paul’s spiritual” leadership of the Thessalonians, notes Martin, “was this grace of intense, sensitive, self-giving love, manifested in a gentleness of bearing, selflessness of disposition, and arduous labor in the outworking of its demands.”⁹¹

Returning to Paul’s incomparable words, he states to the Thessalonians that he and his men would have given their very “souls” for them “because you were dear to us” (1 Thess. 2:8). Yet this shepherding was more than emotional exultation; Paul’s ardent desire was that his spiritual children “would walk worthy of God, who has called you to his kingdom and glory,” and to this end he “exhorted and comforted and charged every one of” them (1 Thess. 2:12).

From Paul’s deep well of care came a compulsion to guide the steps of his sheep “in the way that [they] should go” (Prov. 22:6) — that they might becomingly persevere as children before the God and Father who saved them.

And undergirding all this passion and drive were pure motives: “You are witnesses, and God also, how piously and justly and blamelessly we behaved ourselves among you that believe” (1 Thess. 2:10).

It’s this kind of pure love and personal discipleship commitment — not a lust for self-glory — that should characterize our service of others.

1 Thessalonians 2:1-12 is a great treasure we should all study and draw from. Bill Einwechter calls it “the perfect passage to apply in any leadership realm,”⁹² and so it is:

This apologia, this defense, is very valuable and very blessed to us. . . . It applies to the church in every age. It applies to every believer. We are given a timeless picture of what should be the true motives and the true godly methods of the genuine servants of Christ. . . . It shows all of us how we should be conducting ourselves as we seek to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ and minister the word of God to others.⁹³

Conclusion

Both Christ and the Apostle Paul modeled selfless leadership that was fueled by a deep, personal love toward those they served.

We’re called to do the same, regardless of our station. Wherever God has placed us, we are to boldly, yet tenderly, give of ourselves to strengthen others. Eschewing flattery, we’re to caringly build them up in the truth.

Are we compelled by such a love? Or do our prideful egos drive our thoughts instead?

Do we take on hard tasks for our own glory? Or do we humbly sacrifice, expecting nothing in return?

What truly motivates us in our inmost being?

These are questions we must answer. Now’s the day and now’s the hour to get our hearts right where we’ve erred.

And if the thirst for acclaim has got the better of us, let us repent of this sin before God and freely help those in need.

It’s time to get over ourselves and be about others.