Oh the Deep Deep Love of Jesus
March 15, 2026
Preached by Benjamin Vrbicek
Discussion Questions
How have you experienced the church as both a wonderful and a hard place?
Is there anything in your heart that is restricting your love for your church and its leaders? If so, what? Are you willing to work on it? Why or why not?
How did Paul’s gospel-ministry also look like the gospel?
In John 15:15, Jesus says, “No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” In the gospel, we do not merely become servants but friends of God. In what ways do you cultivate a friendship with another person? How can you cultivate this same friendship and warmth with Jesus that he wants to have with you?
Scripture Reading
2 Corinthians 6:1–13
1 Working together with him, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain. 2 For he says,
“In a favorable time I listened to you,
and in a day of salvation I have helped you.”
Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation. 3 We put no obstacle in anyone's way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, 4 but as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, 5 beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; 6 by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; 7 by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; 8 through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; 9 as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; 10 as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.
11 We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians; our heart is wide open. 12 You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections. 13 In return (I speak as to children) widen your hearts also.
I have a few pictures I’d love to share of our preaching pastors in our first sermons. You know when someone shows a picture of a little child, and everyone goes, “Ahhh, that’s so cute.” You can be ready for that. [Show Benjamin, Jeff, Noah, Ron, Michael, and Tim Shorey, who is preaching on Good Friday.]
You can see the passage of time. What sustains a pastor through all those years? What should a pastor’s heart be toward the church and the church’s heart be toward their pastors? Our passage in 2 Corinthians has a lot to say about that. Let’s pray for the Lord’s help.
“Dear Heavenly Father . . .
I actually tried not to be the person preaching this passage and had someone else on staff scheduled. The snow day back in January shifted the schedule a bit. It’s not that I don’t want to preach this passage. When we were planting the church two and a half years ago, of all the passages in the Bible about pastoral ministry and a church’s heart toward their pastors and a pastor’s heart toward his church, this was the passage I chose to preach. That’s why I didn’t want to do it again. I didn’t want to repeat.
But after doing all the study of the passage again, I realized as much as I normally try not to repeat passages and sermons, some messages need repetition. Sometimes we see new things in old truth, not because the truth has changed, but because we have changed and our church has changed. So here we go again.
The idea when we preached this before was that before the church plant, we wanted “to pull back the curtain” of pastoral ministry. But as soon as Ben Betchel and I said that to each other, we both chuckled because even though the phrase gets used often, it doesn’t have an entirely positive connotation. In The Wizard of Oz the little dog Toto pulls back the curtain, and everyone beholds The Great Oz. But they see he’s not so great. He’s an imposter. That scene is the source of the comedic line, “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain,” which is said as ‘the man behind the curtain’ panics.
When Ben and I said we wanted to pull back the curtain on pastoral ministry, that’s not exactly what we meant. But it might be sort of what we meant. There is one great shepherd of the sheep, and it’s not any local church pastor or church planter. Jesus is the great shepherd of the sheep, the one who builds his church (Heb. 13:20; Matt. 16:18). The rest of us are, as Paul says in our passage in v. 4, just God’s servants. But it’s a really special privilege to be God’s servant. Paul knew that. I’m coming to know that more and more.
At the same time, Ben and I also wanted to reckon with the reality of the Christian life and the reality of ministry, and how those realities are often more gritty than they are glossy. Which made 2 Corinthians 6 perfect on that morning and now on this morning.
As we’ve often pointed out, it’s fair to say that they had been through some hard stuff, both separately and together. In the opening chapter Paul writes, “For we do not want you to be unaware, brothers, of the affliction we experienced in Asia. For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death” (2 Cor. 1:8–9a). He tells the church that ministry became so hard that he wanted to die more than live. That’s gritty. That’s transparent.
A recent poll by the Barna Research Group examined pastoral burnout over the past five years. The good news is that burnout is down from the high points of March 2022 and 2023. But the bad news is that burnout is still high. When asked the question, “Have you given real, serious consideration to quitting being in full-time ministry within the last year?” in December of 2025, so just a few months ago, 25% of pastors said they had given real, serious consideration to quitting being in full-time ministry that year (“Pastors Quitting Ministry: New Barna Data Shows a Shift,” Barna, January 26, 2026). We have six employees on staff, and four with the title pastor.
Not only had Paul been through trials generally in his travels, but he’d also been through trials specifically with this church. In fact, when you piece together the details of their correspondence, there are two other letters we don’t have. Paul alludes to them in the letters we do have. And in one of the letters we don’t have—the letter Paul wrote right before 2 Corinthians—he says it was a hard letter to write and a hard letter to receive.
The church had been in deep sin and needed a loving rebuke. And Paul gave it to them. That rebuke letter was so hard to send that, at least for a short time, Paul regretted even writing it because he worried their grief would cause them to spiral away from Christ rather than toward Christ (cf. 2 Cor. 7:8). He was so nervous to see them again after that painful letter that he sent his friend Titus to check on them first (see Acts 20:1f; 2 Cor. 2:12–13; 7:5–16). Paul and his people, we might say, got history together.
And all this history for Paul could have caused him to close his heart to them. That would have been normal, even natural. You don’t love me, I won’t love you. That’s normal, that’s natural. The lack of love reciprocated by a pastor’s people, the nature of the need for occasional rebuke from a pastor to his people, the disgrace and danger that came socially from being a Christian leader, and not to mention the pastor’s own sinful bent and insecurities, could all have—could have—conspired to restrict a minister’s heart to his people (and their heart to him).
That, however, is not what happened. We should describe 2 Corinthians like a beautiful sunflower growing in the crack of a parking lot. It’s not supposed to be there. Only weeds grow in small cracks without soil. There was so much working against a pastor’s heart being affectionately inclined toward his people and his people’s heart toward him. And there always is—whether in Corinth and Ephesus or Harrisburg. There are so many things that could restrict a pastor’s heart toward his people and their heart toward him. It didn’t happen for Paul, and we must strive that it not happen here.
In this passage we see four aspects of a pastor’s heart for his people. I’ll spend just a few minutes on each.
1. Not in Vain: that God’s grace and his ministry would be effectual
First, we see the phrase “not in vain.” To say it positively, we’d say that Paul’s heart is that God’s grace and his own ministry would be effectual. In other words, the grace of God would do stuff—good stuff—among them and through them and in them now and forever. This “not in vain” line comes from v. 1, which I’ll read again. “Working together with him [meaning with God], then,” Paul says, “we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain.”
I will tell you that this concern, this heart, is not theoretical. Paul saw, as every pastor sees, people who seem to have a casual relationship with God and remain little changed. That worries Paul. That worries pastors. Some of you worry me.
A few years ago I read the book Diary of a Pastor’s Soul. It’s a fictionalized account of a pastor’s last year in his church before he retires. And the pastor writes a little reflection about what he’s learning each week during his last year. The pastor who wrote it had recently retired after thirty-seven years in ministry. In the preface the author had this line that I can’t stop thinking about. It relates to this idea of a pastor’s heart that his people not receive God’s grace and pastoral ministry in vain. He writes,
What most pastors are thinking about as they drive home from their retirement party is not how excited they are to be free from working for the church. They’re thinking that it all went pretty fast, cost so much more than they could have anticipated, and profoundly changed them along the way. And they’re reassuring themselves that they made a difference with this use of their lives.” (M. Craig Barnes, Diary of a Pastor’s Soul, 12)
What was Paul’s heart for his people and what was Craig Barnes’s heart, who wrote that book, and what is the heart of all pastors for their people? It is that God’s grace would be effectual, that God’s grace would make a difference and not be received in vain.
Paul labored so that the gospel would become so real that marriages that couldn’t heal could heal, that people who couldn’t preserve through loneliness could supernaturally preserve in a church community, that people who couldn’t imagine making any life choices that weren’t based on money, could make choices based on more than money, that people who formally couldn’t get along and forgive and be reconciled, could repent and forgive and reconcile. That’s Paul’s heart. It’s ours too.
2. Not an Obstacle: that his life would increase their esteem for Christ
Second, Paul’s heart was that he would not be an obstacle to their joy in Christ. Rather, Paul’s heart was that the esteem for Christ among his people would increase through his ministry. He wanted people to be able to say, “I love Jesus more because of that man’s ministry,” rather than, “I’m deconstructing and shipwrecking my faith because of that man’s ministry.” We see this in vv. 3–8a. I’ll read them again.
3 We put no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, 4 but as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, 5 beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; 6 by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love; 7 by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; 8 through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise.
There could be many ways we could explore just these verses. We might point out that the sufferings he endures, like the beatings and imprisonments, are all in the plural. We could go to the book of Acts and read about some of these in more detail.
But what we need to see most is that Paul points this out to his people in a context where there was essentially a pyramid scheme of preachers and traveling speakers. In Corinth at the time, the proof of your competence as a speaker was the size of the following you built and the material blessings you acquired. In other words, if you can get a huge speaking fee and fill a stadium, you must be legit. Into that context Paul says, “You want to know how my love and ministry are legit, you want to know how I commend Jesus as special, well, I do this when it hurts.” Paul’s heart is that the proof of his worth and, more importantly, the worth of Christ, would be seen in his suffering.
Yes, you can and should praise Jesus in the sunshine. When you’re healthy and happy, and it’s seventy-two degrees, it’s good to thank Jesus. But that prosperity by itself doesn’t often help a world really understand what it means to have Jesus commended to them. When the sun shines, and it’s seventy-two degrees, and you praise Jesus, it might just be that you like the sun shining.
But if the temperature is below zero and you’re cold and the wind is blowing and you’re on the side of a cliff and you don’t know how to get down, if you can still praise Jesus then, then Jesus must be really special. That’s what Paul is doing.
But not only through suffering; he also wants to commend Jesus through the more positive traits he chose to cultivate. In a world hostile to the gospel—a world hostile to the message of a God who loves people but also calls them to repent and change—Paul’s heart was still to cultivate “patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love, by truthful speech.” Paul believed the world was not so hostile that he should give up on kindness and love. Paul believed, by the Holy Spirit, that kindness should coexist with the truth, just as they do in God. Your pastors here feel the same.
3. Not Superficial: that gospel-realities would be their truest truths
Third, we come to the phrase “not superficial.” Paul’s heart was that together they would not embrace superficial identities. The words “not in vain” and “not an obstacle” are in the text. But I admit the words “not superficial” are not in the text. But this is my way of describing the realities Paul describes. Paul’s heart is that they would not have a superficial view of their identities. To say it positively, Paul’s heart was that gospel-realities would be their truest truths. I’ll explain what I mean. Let me read vv. 8b–10.
We are treated as impostors, and yet are true; 9 as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed; 10 as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.
I remember over twenty years ago sitting in a church on a Sunday that a pastor named Phil preached these verses, and I felt called into ministry. I wrote in the bulletin that I wanted this for my life: as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything. I don’t know why I felt that way except to say that God was putting something into my heart. Maybe he’s putting this desire in some of your hearts now, not just in the general way, but in a full-time vocational way. Time will tell.
Again, my way of describing Paul’s heart here is to say that he is “not superficial,” but rather that his heart was for gospel-realities to become their truest truths. What do I mean? Take the line “poor, yet making many rich.” Some people take these contrasts to mean something like, on the one hand regarded in this life poor, but on the other hand, we are actually rich in Christ. That sort of works, but I not exactly. It’s not that Paul could be, just from one angle, regarded poor. No, he was actually poor. So what is he saying in these contrasts? Paul didn’t want to be regarded superficially but rather that gospel-realities would be his truest truths. His real poverty wasn’t the fullest reality.
I’ll keep going. Look at it like this: If you have all the money in the world, but you don’t have the riches of God in the gospel, then that’s real poverty.
I’ll take another. Paul speaks of being unknown and yet known. To be known in this world is to be famous. That could be fun, right? But if you are famously known in the world and not known by God, that’s a superficial fun. To have everything but not have God is a superficial joy. But, on the other hand, to be unknown in the world and to be known and loved by God, and to have nothing in this world but have everything in God, to be in all kinds of situations and ministry roles that at times do make you sorrowful, but at the same to have gospel-realities, then, he says, that is real joy. And Paul wants us to relate to each other not by thin, superficial realities, but what is most true of us now in Christ and will be most true forever.
In the chapter before, Paul wrote that Jesus, who knew no sin, became sin for us on the cross, so that in Jesus we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). And when you draw back the curtain, we see that Paul’s heart was that his people would know these gospel-realities as their truest truths and highest joys. He wanted them to know you can be sorrowful and yet mingled in the sorrow there would be a rejoicing that’s deeper and stronger and more sturdy. This is pastoring—but if you ask me, it’s also the Christian life. The fight by faith to embrace gospel-realities as our truest truths.
4. Not Restricted: that mutual affection would flow between them
Finally, we come to the last “not.” Not in vain, not an obstacle, not superficial. Now, we see “not restricted.” To say it positively, Paul’s heart was that mutual affection would flow between them. I’ll read the verses vv. 11–13 again.
11 We have spoken freely to you, Corinthians; our heart is wide open. 12 You are not restricted by us, but you are restricted in your own affections. 13 In return (I speak as to children) widen your hearts also.
That line about children could sound demeaning, but Paul means it in an endearing way. In 1 Corinthians 4:15, Paul tells them, “For though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers. For I became your father in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” Paul loved them as a loving father. He wanted their hearts not to be restricted. Yes, they had history together, and that history could have made, indeed should have made, their relationship full of thorns and thistles, but here Paul was, like a sunflower in a parking lot, loving people, opening his heart wide to people who had hurt him deeply, people who didn’t love him back—at least on the whole, at least not yet.
This may surprise you, but the biggest wet blanket in the ministry is not people who leave the church with a big stink and make all kinds of noise and have all kinds of meetings. I mean, I don’t love when people leave angry with me and us. But that’s fine every so often. But when it happens this way, I know why a person is upset. The biggest wet blanket in ministry is getting ghosted, when people just disappear. That’s so hard.
The vision of ministry Paul has is not one of exchanging goods and services for pay. Paul’s ministry among them was not like Facebook marketplace. You want something, great, I’ll give it to you for a price. You want sermons, you want leadership, you want truth? Here’s the price. That wasn’t Paul. That’s not ministry. He labors among them as a father who loves and longs for them to love him back and to follow him as he follows Christ (cf. 1 Cor. 11:1).
And yet they are closed off. The word is “restricted.” He says, “You are restricted in your own affections.” I hear that, and I think, as perhaps some of you do, of the human body and the heart and veins and arteries and cholesterol and plaque buildup. Your body needs open veins and arteries, not clogged. Restrictions can cause heart attacks and strokes. Paul is saying to them, “My affection is flowing this way, but it’s not coming back.” And he’s asking them to consider why that is? Just like the issue of “not receiving grace in vain,” this issue of restricted affection was not theoretical to Paul—or us.
I told this story once before, but I’ll do it again; it’s about a guy I’ll call Steve. Steve was at my first church. I had just been hired, like maybe three weeks. I was hired as their Associate Pastor of Connections. I was going to help people get connected. And I’m handing bulletins out at the church door and Steve comes up and I hand him a bulletin. He says, “So you’re the new guy.” He said it with a sort of funny but not mean smirk on his face. He was happy to see me; I could tell. So I say that I am the new guy, and he says, “So what do you do?” I say with a smirk, “I help people get connected.” Steve just kind of raises his eyebrows and says, “Oh.” I smile back at him and look at him all serious-like and say, “Steve, do you feel connected?” He smiles, takes the bulletin from my hand, and says, “I’m as connected as I want to be.” And then he walked into church.
Steve and I became friends. He became our realtor when we bought and sold a house in Tucson. What you don’t know about Steve, and I didn’t know when he told me he was as connected as he wanted to be, is that Steve was at church, but he was busy healing. He had been a pastor at another church and failed and lost his marriage, and he was pretty broken, and he was at that time as connected as he wanted to be.
But what I loved about Steve was that he knew being restricted and guarded was not a long-term strategy. I wonder this about some of you. You’re connected as you want to be—or, in Paul’s words, restricted—but I want to ask if that is your long-term strategy?
Paul’s heart and the heart of the pastors here is that we would be doing something more than Facebook marketplace, more than dispassionate, aloof, consumeristic exchanging of religious goods and services.You want a sermon, so you pay me. I want money, so I preach. Paul longs for something more than this for him and for them. I think all pastors do. And I think you do too.
So ask yourself if you’re restricted at our church and why? Maybe for good reasons. Maybe for a time of healing. But what I would ask, is your ten-year plan for your relationship with the local church and the people you serve with? My heart for you is something more than mere attendance.
Conclusion: Paul’s heart that his gospel-ministry would look like the gospel
So, we come to the conclusion. How might I summarize all this heart language that Paul has for his ministry? Not in vain, but that God’s grace and his ministry would be effectual. Not an obstacle, but that his life would increase their esteem for Christ. Not superficial, but that gospel-realities would be their truest truths. Not restricted, but that mutual affection would flow between them. How do we summarize this?
I would say that behind the not in vain, behind the not an obstacle, behind the not superficial, behind the not restricted, Paul’s heart was that his gospel-ministry would look like the gospel. Paul’s heart was that his gospel-ministry would look like the gospel. In short, all four of these “pastor’s hearts” are the heart of Christ displayed in the gospel. This passage is not so much about Paul’s heart but Christ’s heart. This passage is about the deep, deep love of Jesus, to grab the title of the hymn.
The gospel Paul received from Jesus was not in vain. Jesus lived, died, rose, and will come again, and that will not be for nothing. The message of the cross and resurrection, the message of the grace of Christ, produces life. It did for Paul. It still does.
And while the words of Jesus and the life and death of Jesus can be viewed as offensive, when Jesus is rightly understood, he’s not an offense or an obstacle. Jesus suffers and endures and loves, and he does it all in purity and truth and in power of the Holy Spirit so that people would esteem him.
And Paul wants his gospel ministry to be like the gospel message in that it’s not superficial but truths that change the deepest realities—forever.
And perhaps most especially, in the gospel message, Jesus loves us before we love him. Jesus dies before we would die for him. Jesus suffers for us before we even care about him. Paul’s ministry—Paul’s heart for his people—looks like unrestricted love to people who are still restricted because he received the gospel when he was still restricted to God.
And that gospel message changed him and this church in Corinth, just as it’s changing pastors and it’s changing people all over the world. And the gospel is the only thing that will change pastors and churches in Harrisburg. There may not be a Great Wizard of Oz behind the pulpit of any church, but there is a great savior named Jesus sitting on a throne. We must pay lots of attention to the God-man behind that curtain.
I’ll invite the music team forward so we can have a time of response through singing. Let’s pray. “Dear Heavenly Father. . .”
