After fifteen years in vocational ministry, one of the things I am most convinced of is this:

Successful ministry isn't getting people attached to us; it's getting people connected to Jesus.

Ministry creates an interesting tension.

If you do it well, people will trust you. They may value your teaching, seek your advice, appreciate your leadership, and want you involved in important moments of their lives. That's not necessarily unhealthy. Relationships matter. Trust matters. Influence matters.

But influence is stewardship, not ownership.

The people God allows us to lead ultimately belong to Him.

That means there is a subtle danger in ministry that we have to continually guard against: we can become so good at getting people to listen to us that we forget our responsibility is to teach them to follow to Jesus.

We can build churches around personalities.

We can build ministries around personalities.

We can build social media platforms around personalities.

We can even disciple people in a way that unintentionally produces dependence upon the discipler rather than dependence upon Christ.

And the scary thing is that all of those things can look like successful ministry.

Attendance can grow.

Followers can increase.

People can quote our sermons.

Our calendars can stay full.

Our names can become recognizable.

People can constantly call us for advice.

And yet none of those things necessarily tell us whether we've actually succeeded at the assignment Jesus gave us.

Reach is an opportunity for impact. Reach is not impact itself.

In other words:

Don't stop at me. Look at Him.

And something happens a few verses later that I think every Christian leader should pay attention to.

John is standing with two of his disciples. Jesus walks by. John points them toward Jesus again and says, “Look, the Lamb of God!”

Then Scripture says:

“When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus.”
— John 1:37

They were John's disciples.

Then John pointed them toward Jesus.

And they followed Jesus.

That's successful ministry.

John understood something every Christian leader has to understand eventually:

I am not the destination.

My preaching isn't the destination.

My leadership isn't the destination.

My ministry isn't the destination.

My platform isn't the destination.

My organization isn't the destination.

Jesus is.

Later, when John's disciples became concerned that people were beginning to follow Jesus instead of John, John's response was remarkable (John 3:26–30):

“He must become greater; I must become less.”
— John 3:30

That's not false humility.

That's successful ministry.

John wasn't losing disciples.

John's disciples were finding Jesus.

There is a difference.

My vision for the role was to empower more people to lead.

I believed then—and still believe now—that one of the responsibilities of ministry leadership is what Paul describes in Ephesians 4:11–12:

Christ gave leaders to the Church “to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up.”

Or, as I learned it growing up:

“Equip the saints to do the work of the ministry.”

The goal wasn't for staff to do all the ministry.

The goal was for staff to equip God's people to do ministry.

So when I stepped into that role, I hung up a poster with one simple Scripture on it:

John 1:37.

“When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus.”

I wanted that verse in front of me, and I wanted it in front of my team, because it reminded us of what we were actually trying to accomplish.

We weren't making followers of ourselves.

We weren't trying to make people dependent upon our church.

We were making disciples of Jesus who could be equipped to do ministry wherever God eventually placed them.

More than a decade later, I hold that same conviction.

The setting has changed.

The assignment has changed.

The people I'm discipling have changed.

But the principle hasn't.

Today, I work with college athletes.

And college ministry has a built-in expiration date.

Athletes transfer.

They graduate.

Eligibility runs out.

They move to different cities.

They join different churches.

They begin careers.

Their lives move forward.

So if my definition of successful ministry is keeping everybody attached to me or attached to Georgia State FCA forever, I'm building the wrong thing.

My responsibility is to disciple them in such a way that wherever they land next, they can follow Jesus there.

The same principle applies to the FCA staff I bring alongside me.

I don't want to develop staff members who can only function when I'm present.

I want to develop leaders who can hear from God, study Scripture, disciple people, lead ministry, make wise decisions, and eventually develop other leaders themselves.

Healthy ministry doesn't just gather followers. It equips disciples.

That was the vision behind John 1:37 on my wall in 2015.

It's still the vision today.

I've told athletes I minister to that mature faith eventually has to move beyond, “Jesus, what can You do for me?” toward, “Jesus, I want You because You are Jesus.”

Jesus confronted this very issue after feeding the five thousand. The crowd came looking for Him again, but Jesus challenged their motives:

“You are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill.”
— John 6:26

They wanted what Jesus could provide without yet understanding who Jesus actually was.

Later in that same chapter, Jesus declares:

“I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”
— John 6:35

The gift ultimately points us toward the Giver.

That's part of why I've grown to care so deeply about the difference between activity and intimacy.

You can look the part.

You can attend Bible study.

You can know Christian language.

You can serve.

You can worship.

You can be around a ministry constantly.

And still not actually be connected to Jesus.

Activity is not the same as intimacy, and performance is not the same as connection.

Jesus isn't ultimately after our performance. He's after our hearts.

In John 15:1–8, Jesus describes Himself as the vine and us as the branches. He says:

“Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.”
— John 15:4

A branch doesn't occasionally visit the vine for inspiration.

Its entire life comes from remaining connected to the vine.

You don't visit the vine. You live in it.

That's what I want for the people God entrusts to me.

I don't want them dependent upon my spirituality.

I want them developing their own relationship with God.

I don't just want them asking me what Scripture says. I want them learning to open Scripture for themselves.

I don't just want them asking me to pray. I want them learning how to pray.

I don't just want them listening to me talk about Jesus. I want them walking with Jesus when I'm nowhere around.

Because eventually I won't be around.

If I've discipled someone well, my hope isn't that fifteen years from now they still need me to make every spiritual decision for them.

My hope is that they know Jesus.

They recognize His voice.

They know His Word.

They've developed spiritual disciplines.

They can discern.

They can pray.

They can lead.

And eventually, they can disciple somebody else.

Paul describes this kind of multiplication to Timothy:

“And the things you have heard me say...entrust to reliable people who will also be qualified to teach others.”
— 2 Timothy 2:2

Look at the multiplication:

Paul teaches Timothy.

Timothy teaches reliable people.

Those people teach others.

That's discipleship.

Jesus didn't tell us to gather people who would remain permanently dependent upon us.

He told us:

“Go and make disciples of all nations...”
— Matthew 28:19

That's multiplication.

The goal is for what God has entrusted to me to eventually reach far beyond me.

Ministry Is Stewardship, Not Status

This is also why I've had to continually examine how I view platform and influence.

There's nothing inherently wrong with having influence.

Influence can be incredibly useful for the Kingdom.

A platform can become a pulpit for the Gospel.

A gift can become a tool.

Leadership can open doors.

Relationships can create opportunities.

But I've learned to think about these things differently:

Stewardship instead of status.

Responsibility instead of popularity.

Tools instead of trophies.

Peter gives leaders a similar warning when speaking about shepherding God's people:

“Be shepherds of God's flock that is under your care, watching over them...not pursuing dishonest gain, but eager to serve; not lording it over those entrusted to you, but being examples to the flock.”
— 1 Peter 5:2–3

Notice the language:

Entrusted to you.

Not owned by you.

Entrusted.

The moment ministry becomes primarily about proving my significance, I've confused the assignment.

I don't want my life's work to simply prove that Charlie Craige was significant.

I want my life to produce significant Kingdom impact.

There's a major difference.

One builds monuments to ourselves.

The other builds something that can continue when our name isn't attached to it.

If someone you discipled eventually became a better leader than you, would you celebrate them?

If a ministry you built continued flourishing after you left, would that bring you joy or make you feel threatened?

If someone came to your ministry because of your preaching but eventually grew beyond needing your preaching to faithfully follow Jesus, would you see that as success?

I hope my answer is yes.

Because the masterpiece isn't supposed to make people marvel at the piece.

It should make them marvel at the Master.

Whatever gifts God has given me—leadership, communication, vision, relationships, creativity, influence—they're tools.

They are not trophies.

My calling isn't ultimately about my gift.

My calling isn't ultimately about my platform.

My calling is about Kingdom building.

Paul captures this perspective beautifully when addressing divisions in the Corinthian church. Some people were attaching themselves to different leaders—Paul or Apollos. Paul's response was essentially: You're focused on the wrong people.

“What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants, through whom you came to believe...”
— 1 Corinthians 3:5

Then:

“I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God has been making it grow.”
— 1 Corinthians 3:6

That's ministry.

We plant.

We water.

God gives the growth.

That's what ministry should ultimately be.

Come and see Jesus.

Not:

Come and see how great our ministry is.

Come and see how gifted our pastor is.

Come and see how impressive our organization is.

Come and see how much influence we've accumulated.

Come and see Jesus.

The real Jesus.

Not Jesus filtered through our politics.

Not Jesus filtered through our denomination.

Not Jesus filtered through our traditions.

Not Jesus filtered through our ministry brand.

Not Jesus shaped into whatever version is most convenient for our agenda.

Jesus.

My responsibility as a minister is to help people know Him, love Him, follow Him, and become more like Him.

And if I'm doing that well, something interesting should eventually happen:

They should need less of me because they've learned to depend more on Him.

That's not a loss of influence.

That's the fruit of influence used correctly.

After fifteen years of ministry, I don't want to build a collection of people who know my voice.

I want to help build a generation of people who know His.

I don't want people merely remembering something powerful I preached.

I want them remembering the Jesus I preached about.

I don't want people becoming more like me.

I want us, together, becoming more like Christ.

So whether I'm preaching to a crowd, sitting across the table from one person, leading a Bible study, discipling an athlete, developing a staff member, building a ministry, recording a podcast, writing something like this, or simply having a conversation, the assignment remains the same:

Point beyond myself.

Like John the Baptist:

There He is.

Look at Him.

Follow Him.

And I hope that the fruit of my ministry can continually be described by the verse I put on that wall back in 2015:

“When the two disciples heard him say this, they followed Jesus.”
— John 1:37

If people encounter me but ultimately end up following Jesus, I can live with that. Actually, that's the whole point.

Successful ministry isn't getting people attached to us; it's getting people connected to Jesus.

“He must become greater; I must become less.” — John 3:30