If you step out the doors of Capitol Hill Baptist Church, walk across the parking lot, and hike up a long hallway of stairs, you’ll arrive in the office of my good friend Mark Dever. There his massive study claims the entire second story of his home, the walls hidden by bookshelves.

But Mark’s study is more unusual than you think.

Entering Mark’s office, you immediately become aware of people. Mark is rarely alone in his study, and it appears he likes it that way. His sermon preparation is unlike anything I’ve seen as he enjoys interacting with the flurry of staff and interns buzzing around his desk. And on more than one occasion, Mark has prepared entire sermons in the church parking lot—not to avoid people, but to better tap into the stream of staff, interns, and church members cutting between the church and his study! But when the parking lot is not ideal for sermon prep, Mark moves back into the study, where the stream of staff and interns continues. Mark’s (quite unusual) study arrangement makes a loud statement about his care for people, his desire to train others, and his love of friendship.

The second thing you notice about his study is the books. Books are everywhere, floor to ceiling. Though his study is large and his walls are hidden by bookshelves, I would guess Mark’s collection of books exceeded the shelf space in the mid-1990s. When the shelf space was exhausted, the books kept coming, the horizontal arrangement stopped, and vertical piles of books began to accumulate. Though there must be some organization to the maze of books, I cannot tell you what system it follows (probably only Mark knows).

Third, you will notice his love of music. There is always some form of music playing in his study, which is not unusual for a study. But his eclectic musical interests are bizarre and distracting. You could hear classical music followed by a Maranatha! worship chorus from the early ’70s, then a singing nun (no joke!), Keith Green, opera, and jazz. Often when I’m in his study I ask him to turn the music down or to change it to something, well, less annoying and distracting.

On June 6, 2007, I joined the staff and interns at 9Marks in Mark’s study. We sat among the books and silenced the music, and I turned the microphone on Mark to hear about his life and ministry. We were scheduled to talk for one hour but extended it to another hour (and could have gone a third without any problem). The full interview recording can be downloaded from the 9Marks website here and here.

Although I had explored many of the topics in the interview with Mark before, the Q&A uncovered a stream of information I had never heard before. I commend the entire interview, but I especially wanted to highlight a few excerpts here for pastors.

The god of Options

This first excerpt reminds me of the many pastors I have met who are distracted from serving joyfully in the present by thinking continuously about future options. These pastors are often unaware of how their consideration of the future affects their souls each day.

In answering a question about his future at Capitol Hill Baptist Church, Mark’s response included the phrase “the god of options,” which I found wise, and have since used (when appropriate) to care for other pastors. I think as pastors read the rest of his response, this phrase will remind them that, regardless of God’s will for your future, and without eliminating the real possibility of future transition, you can be certain that God’s will for you this day (and in the foreseeable future) is to serve him with gladness right where you are.

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C.J. Mahaney: Do you plan on staying at Capitol Hill Baptist Church?

Mark Dever: Lord willing.  

CJM: Lord willing what?  

MD: The rest of my life.  

CJM: As a member of the pulpit committee, Matt Schmucker remembers a particular statement you made in that regard. You said to Connie, “The next place we go, we’re buying...

MD: …cemetery plots.” Because we had been moving around and wherever we lived my heart got entangled with the people. I just hated moving and it was just horrendous for me. I had been studying the Puritans and realized that the basic model was to just stay someplace—like a marriage to a congregation. It is not exactly the same, it is not sin to leave it necessarily, but you don’t assume churches are a career ladder you are climbing. You are at one church for two years to work on some skills and when you run out of your bag of tricks you move to another church for three years, they hear all six of your sermons and then you move someplace else. No, I would like to know their children and their grandchildren. So I made clear when we were talking to the pulpit search committee that if I came I was intending, Lord willing, to stay. I had no further plans and actually planned to have no further plans.…

I remember, during a Wednesday night church potluck very early during my time here, I got my food and sat down. An older woman (probably in her mid-70s, late 70s at the time) who had been at the church for decades gets her meal and sits down right next to me. She looks at me and says, “I don’t like young preachers.”

CJM: And you are probably 33 years old?

MD: Thirty-two or 33. And I just looked at her. I said, “Really?” She said, “Yep. Of course I’ll make an exception in your case.”

CJM: Did you ask for an explanation why?  

MD: I just started eating my food and then I said, “I guess you expect to outlast him at the church, don’t you?” She said, “Yep. Always have.”  

And then I took some more food and then said, “Well, I think you may have met your match.”

CJM: Oh, outstanding.…Thank you for the compelling example you provide of a commitment to this church, and provoking other pastors to follow that similar attitude and approach. You introduced me to the description of Puritan pastors, that they were “looking for a place to settle.”

MD: A great example of that is when John Cotton, I think it was when John Cotton died, their church needed a pastor and began negotiating with the First Congregational Church up in Ipswich. Both churches entered a season of prayer for their pastor, John Norton, coming down to Boston. So it was not at all a kind of cloak-and-dagger secret committee goes and attends, tries to scout out the talent, and then steals them away. It’s two families, two congregations, praying about where would this brother be best used—which is a great way to approach it.

CJM: What are the unique joys of pastoring?  

MD: Well, for me, that would include that specific decision to stay here. It was a great opportunity to destroy the “god of options,” which I think young men and women who are successful in our culture tend to be addicted to.

I watch young people in this church when they are 25 and they don’t want to do anything that closes any options. At 27, 31, 33, the same thing. At some point life begins forcing itself on you and you have a wife and kids and some options just close. But I think the young folks in our culture who are doing OK by the world’s standards are enslaved to worshiping at the altar of this god of options.

So by saying I wasn’t interested in going anyplace else, I meant to send out a wide signal to say, “Please don’t tempt me by asking me about other options, because this is going to be slow, hard work and it’s worthy of a life.”