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Should Leaders Create Controversy?

pastor

I recently opened my inbox to see an article by Steven Furtick asking this very question. Over at Outreach Magazine, Furtick writes:

One of the greatest things preventing many pastors and churches from reaching their optimal level of impact is their fear of controversy. . . . They avoid criticism, which no one likes to receive. But they forfeit something far greater:

Influence. You can’t have influence if you are not willing to be controversial.

Just ask Jesus. . . . If Jesus’ ministry was controversial, why do we expect ours should be any different? . . . If you want to be like Christ, expect controversy. If you’re faithful to what God has called you to do, you are going to be misunderstood. Criticized. Maybe even hated.

But don’t worry when people are criticizing you. Worry when they’re not criticizing you. Because at that point you’ve blended in too much to be worth noticing. Personally, I’d rather be misunderstood than ignored.

So how ’bout it? Should leaders be comfortable with controversy?

Should leaders create controversy?

Well, this is a subject I’ve been mulling over for some time, and more intently since reading this article.

Our controversial message

On the one hand, it’s easy to say yes, church leaders should be willing to be controversial. Those who stand up for the truth, who proclaim the gospel unashamedly will inevitably create controversy because they are holding fast to the Word of God.

“For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing,” Paul wrote in 2 Cor. 2:15-16, “to one a fragrance from death to death, to the other a fragrance from life to life.”

The gospel is offensive in and of itself because it confronts us with an accurate view of ourselves—we are faced with the truth that we are hopelessly lost in our sin. We have exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worship and serve created things instead of our blessed Creator (Rom. 1:25). Left to our own selves, we are idolators whose hearts are so deceitful and corrupt we cannot even rightly evaluate ourselves (cf. Jer. 17:9).

There is no darker picture of the truth of humanity than the one we see in the Scriptures, and yet no brighter hope for our reconciliation with God. God isn’t content to leave us to our own devices to make ourselves right with Him—the price is too high, the debt is too great!

So instead, He does it for us—the Father ordains our redemption; the Son accomplishes it in His perfect life, death, and resurrection; and the Holy Spirit applies it to us, bringing life to the spiritually dead, renewing our hearts and minds in Jesus Christ.

So, if that’s the message we proclaim, absolutely it’s going to be controversial… and we should absolutely embrace the controversy that comes from it.

And yet…

Our uncontroversial attitudes

As clearly controversial as our message is, the Scriptures make it clear that Christians are to be decidedly uncontroversial in our approach to our calling. Consider what a brief survey of Paul and Peter’s epistles reveal on this matter:

…let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. (Col. 3:15)

…aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs… (1 Thessalonians 4:11)

An overseer must be above reproach . . . sober-minded, self-controlled, respectable . . . not quarrelsome… (1 Timothy 3:1-3)

[Christian leaders are not to have] an unhealthy craving for controversy . . . and constant friction among people who are depraved in mind and deprived of the truth, imagining that godliness is a means of gain. (1 Timothy 6:4-5)

Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us. (Titus 2:7-8)

a person who stirs up division . . . is warped and sinful; he is self-condemned. (Titus 3:10-11)

…let him turn away from evil and do good; let him seek peace and pursue it. (1 Peter 3:11)

…in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect. (1 Peter 3:15)

Whether inside or outside the Church, the apostolic witness is consistent and clear: Christian leaders, and indeed all Christians, are to be pursue self-control, peacefulness, and be above reproach (that is, beyond criticism, especially from unbelievers).

Just because Jesus was controversial…

The trouble with Furtick’s argument in his article is its flawed approach. It represents, at best, a half-truth.

Was Jesus controversial? Yes.

Why? Not because He was dangerous in the earthly sense.

Remember, Pontius Pilate found no fault with Him; He wasn’t a political upstart or a revolutionary in that sense. The danger Jesus represented was (and is) in His complete denunciation of our futile attempts to earn our own salvation and for His repeated declarations of His divinity.

There’s nothing more dangerous and nothing more controversial than that.

But here’s the thing… we don’t get to be controversial the way that He was.

We can’t make the claims that He did and we cannot perform the deeds that He did.

The danger of a half-truth comes when it’s presented as a whole truth. When that happens, a half-truth becomes a whole lie.

For the Christian, our call is more like that of John the Baptist—Jesus must increase, but we must decrease (John 3:30). It’s a call to humility. We don’t sacrifice influence by rejecting the notion of creating controversy. We increase in godliness as we consider others more significant than ourselves (Phil 2:3).

The only controversy that should ever come from our ministry is the faithful proclamation of the gospel. But anything else—if our methodology is stirring up division within the body, if our attitudes are creating cause for concern among believers and confusion among unbelievers, then we’ve not only missed the point, we’ve revealed we’re not fit for the ministry.

Controversy is not always wrong, but it’s pursuit is never to be commended. Influence is not wrong, but it is not something we, ultimately, can earn. It’s a gift from God given in whatever measure He deems fit. Steward what you have well and let Him worry about the rest.

Autonomous Christianity Never Works

dangerous-calling

I know it sounds strange, but sometimes the best thing a book can do is hit you square between the eyes. Paul Tripp’s new book, Dangerous Calling: Confronting the Unique Challenges of Pastoral Ministry, is like that. I’ll be doing a comprehensive review soon, but I wanted to take a moment to share one of the most helpful passages of the book.

Too often those of us in any form of church leadership—whether formal or informal—can feel a temptation to hide how we’re really doing. We feel like we need to put on a brave face, or we need to be super-shiny-perfect Christians.

But what does this reveal about us? Tripp explains:

First, when people are your substitute messiah (you need their respect and support in order to continue), it’s hard to be honest with them about your sins, weaknesses, and failures. There is a second thing that kicks in as well: fear. The more separation and discontinuity there is between the real details of my personal life and my public confession and image, the more I will tend to fear being known. I will fear how people would think of and respond to me if they really knew what was going on in my life. I may even fear the loss of my job. So my responses to the concerns and inquiries of others become structured by fear rather than faith. So I do not make the regular, healthy confessions of struggle to my ministry co-partners, I do not ask candidly and humbly for prayer in places where I clearly need it, and I am very careful with how I answer personal questions when they come my way.

This all means that I am no longer benefitting from the insight-giving, protecting, encouraging, warning, preventative, and restoring ministries of the body of Christ. I am trying to do what none of us is able to do—spiritually make it on my own. Autonomous Christianity never works, because our spiritual life was designed by God to be a community project. (Dangerous Calling, p. 38)

If the Christian life is a “community project” as Tripp says, we must resist the temptation to withdraw and hide our problems, not in the played “authentic” sense, but simply making sure we’re all in intentional community. Pastors need those around them to whom they can confess their sins—and not just their wives (for that is a burden to great to carry). Pastors’ wives need safe women to be in intentional community with, who don’t expect them to be “just so.” Same goes for leaders at every level.

Leader, if you feel like ministry “has” to be a lonely thing—if you consistently pull away from any form of community—you need to ask yourself:

Is the problem that there’s no one I can trust—or is it me?

Success, Faithfulness, and Fruitfulness

old-church

One of the looming questions in Christian ministry is trying to figure out how to measure whether or not what you’re doing is “working” (I hope you’ll forgive the expression). Some look at it in terms of success, which really just means numbers.

  • How many people showed up?
  • How many baptisms were there?
  • How much are people giving?

And so on.

These aren’t bad metrics and can be an indicator of God’s working in a church’s ministry, but it’s not necessarily so as many critics of the church growth/seeker sensitive movement have made clear.

Others contrast this with the idea of faithfulness alone—that all you need is to be sound in your doctrine, godly in character and faithful in preaching and ministering to people. Again, good metrics, but as Tim Keller points out on the first page of his excellent new book, Center Church, a bit of an oversimplification as it risks ignoring the competency factor. Simply, you can be orthodox, godly, and faithful, but still not be good at what you do.

Keller offers a great third option: Fruitfulness. Here’s how he explains it:

As I read, reflected, and taught, I came to the conclusion that a more biblical theme for evaluation than either success or faithfulness is fruitfulness. Jesus, of course, told his disciples that they were to “bear much fruit” (John 15:8). Paul spoke even more specifically. He spoke of conversions as “fruit” when he desired to preach the gospel in Rome “that I might have some fruit among you also, even as among other Gentiles” (Rom 1:13 KJV). Paul also spoke of the “fruit” of godly character that a minister can see growing in Christians under his care. This included the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal 5:22). Good deeds, such as mercy to the poor, are called “fruit” as well (Rom 15:28).

Paul spoke of the pastoral nurture of congregations as a form of gardening. He told the Corinthian Christians they were God’s field” in which some ministers planted, some watered and some reaped (1 Cor 3:9). The gardening metaphor shows that . . . [g]ardeners must be faithful in their work, but they must also be skillful, or the garden will fail. Yet in the end, the degree of the success of the garden (or the ministry) is determined by factors beyond the control of the gardener. The level of fruitfulness varies due to “soil conditions” (that is, some groups o fpeople have a greater hardness of heart than others) and “weather conditions” (that is, the work of God’s sovereign Spirit) as well. (Center Church: Doing Balanced, Gospel-Centered Ministry in Your City, pp. 13-14)

This is a tremendously helpful corrective and one that I trust will be an encouragement to many who struggle in this regard. It completely changes how we evaluate what we do. It’s not a matter of just how faithful or godly a minister is, anymore than it’s about how many people are showing up on a Sunday morning. And best of all, it takes the wrong pressures off of pastors and leaders who are competent and faithful. “When fruitfulness is our criterion for evaluation, we are held accountable but not crushed by the expectation that a certain number of lives will be changed dramatically under our ministry.”

That’s good news, isn’t it?

Do Not Stroke the Ear, Strike the Heart

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The most pernicious and debasing evil of all is, a converting our sacred office into a medium for setting forth our own excellence — prostituting the glories of the cross for the indulgence of our own pride, drawing a veil over the glories of our adorable Master and committing a robbery against him, even in the professed business to exalt him. This is to lose sight of the great end of the Ministry — commending ourselves, instead of our Master, to the regard of our people. . . Our business is to make men think, not of our eloquence, but of their own souls; to attend, not to our fine language, but to their own everlasting interest. Our duty is . . . not to stroke the ear, but to strike the heart.

Charles Bridges, The Christian Ministry (as published in How Sermons Work by David Murray)

 

2 Things I Love (and 1 Thing I Don’t) About Preaching

pastor

This weekend I’m filling the pulpit on behalf of my friend Andrew Hall at Community Bible Church in Ilderton, Ontario. As I’ve been praying and preparing for this week’s message, I’ve been considering what I love and what I don’t love so much about preaching:

I get to worship God by serving others

I certainly don’t pretend to be the most gifted preacher in the world, but one of the best things about preaching is helping people see something in Scripture that they either haven’t seen before or reminding them of an important truth they can’t hear too many times. The last time I was at CBC, one of the best moments I had was a member of the congregation coming to see me after the service and sharing how the message helped her get some clarity on a difficult subject. This week, I’m preaching primarily on 2 verses (Jude 20-21) and I’m trusting that the Lord will bless my efforts to serve this congregation.

I get to worship God by doing something I love

Honestly, preaching is a lot of fun for me. It’s challenging, forces me to get out of my comfort zone (standing up in front of people isn’t my most favorite thing in the world), and allows me to invest time digging into the Word. Even though I’d probably say I’m a pretty average preacher in terms of ability, there’s few things more rewarding for me than this kind of practical worship of God.

As much as I love these things, there is at least one thing I don’t love about preaching:

Insecurity and temptations to please man

As much as I want to serve God and honor the text, it’s really tempting to seek the approval of others after preaching. I don’t know that any of us don’t like to hear that we’ve done a good job, but the danger for me is finding more value in that affirmation, rather than satisfaction in Christ.

That’s a bit of what I love (and don’t) about preaching. If you’re a preacher, what do you love about it? 

9 questions to ask when studying the Bible

One of the things I love about the Puritans is their commitment to the study of Scripture. When you read the works of the Puritans (and those heavily influenced by them), it’s clear that they thought deeply about the Scriptures and their application in a way that many of us—even the most committed—struggle to in the same fashion. According to Allan Harman, their approach basically took into consideration the following questions (I’ve included my own commentary with each):1

1. What do these words actually mean?

This might seem incredibly obvious, but it’s worth noting that in periods prior to the Reformation, many Christian teachers interpreted Scripture allegorically. (This isn’t a problem when the text itself is allegorical, of course.) However, a problem with this approach is that it can quickly lead to the obscuring of the author’s intended message. Whatever conclusions we come to about a text, we must start with what the author originally intended his audience to hear.

2. What light do other Scriptures throw on this text?

No passage of Scripture should be interpreted in a vacuum. Doing so rarely leads to a right conclusion about the author’s intent in writing it and the passage’s application for us today. When we come across texts that seem to conflict with one another (say, for example, John 1:1 and Deut. 6:4), we need to remember that if the Bible is truly inspired by God, if God is its ultimate source, then, generally speaking, there is no apparent conflict that can’t be explained without jumping through too many hoops (even if it’s simply acknowledging the truth of Deut 29:29).

3. Where and how does it fit into the total biblical revelation?

Just as a passage of Scripture should be interpreted in light of the author’s original intent and other relevant passages of Scripture, we also have to be careful to make sure we’re clear on how it fits into the “big story” of the Bible.

4. What truths does it teach about God, and about man in relation to God?

This is a wonderful diagnostic question for us because, just like the ones prior, it leads us closer to the point of all Scripture. This is where so much of our interpretation falls short today, where we put ourselves as the primary object of every text, where the Bible always and consistently puts God as primary and truths we learn about ourselves in the process are always in light of our understanding of God. If our understanding of a text isn’t first and foremost leading us to a greater understanding of the God who inspired it to be written, then we’re probably off in our interpretation.

5. How are these truths related to the saving work of Christ, and what light does the gospel of Christ throw upon them?

For me, this is probably the most crucial question—if as Jesus said, all Scripture is about Him (cf. Luke 22:37; 24:44; John 5:39), then it is our duty to make the connection to the gospel plain for our hearers and/or readers.

6. What experiences do these truths delineate, or explain, or seek to create or cure?

The Puritans were unrelenting about the need for application in teaching. And this is the first point reminds us that there is a response that the text demands. Our job is to find out what it is. The following questions drill deeper into this one.

7. For what practical purpose do they stand in Scripture?

All the truth contained within Scripture is there to train us in godliness that we may be equipped for every good work (cf. 2 Tim 3:16-17). Therefore, there’s always going to be a practical takeaway for us.

8. How do they apply to myself and others in our own actual situation?

This isn’t “what does the text mean to me” but “how does this text apply to my specific situation.” Some passages aren’t immediately applicable, and thus stand as “preventative medicine” for the day in which they are required.

9. To what present and human condition do they speak, and what are they telling us to believe and do?

This is the most important question we can ask when it comes to right application; there is no human condition that isn’t fundamentally addressed in the Word of God because it all stems from one root (the Fall). And ultimately, our primary response and application is always to repent and believe the gospel. Train-wrecked marriages, work issues, parenting… all of it can and is centered in the gospel, and that should be our primary call to application.

While these questions are quite simple, the answers we find by studying the Bible in light of them is extremely helpful.

What questions do you use to assist your study of Scripture?

  1. Harman shares these questions in Matthew Henry – His Life and Influence. ↩︎

“Wasted” Lives and Christian Calling

From our earliest years, we’re encouraged to pursue success—to find it in our hobbies, sports, education and, eventually, careers.

When I finished college, I had aspirations of being a successful and well paid graphic designer. (Don’t laugh—they didn’t tell us there was an abundance of designers and a dearth of job prospects.) Though I had a rough start to my career (long story), I eventually did start doing pretty well for myself.

Then I became a Christian. And Jesus told me to give it all up (cf. Mark 8:35).

So I left my job, joined the staff of a Christian ministry where I am employed to this day, took a fairly sizeable pay cut (and then took another household income reduction when Emily’s maternity leave ended) and then began to pursue the answer to a big question that’s been in the air for the better part of four years—one of calling.

Recently I’ve been reading Edmund Clowney’s little book, Called to the Ministry, and found his addressing of vocation particularly helpful:

Until we are ready to follow in the steps of that Saviour, discussions of Christian vocation are futile. Had vocational counselors interviewed Simon Peter, they would likely have directed him away from the fishing business. His gifts for leadership were wasted in a two-man fishing boat. But they would hardly have recommended a career in sectarian religious extremism, as a follower of the Nazarene. Devotion to such a cause could, and did, end in crucifixion.

From the twelve apostles to the Auca missionaries of our generation, the history of the Christian church is the history of “wasted” lives. The Christian may tabulate all the assets of his personality and take inventory of his preferences, but he casts all these at the feet of Christ. He is not seeking fulfillment but expendability. He counts not his life dear to himself, for he holds it in trust for Christ. His goal is beyond the grave; the crown of his high calling is in the hand of his risen Lord. (pp. 14-15)

This is the funny thing about the Christian life: while it’s important to use the gifts and abilities God has given each of us for His glory, we’re not called to find our fulfillment in the pursuit of such things. When I left my old job for this one, people—especially family—looked at me as though I had two heads. They didn’t get why I’d move to something where I’d be earning less. It seemed backwards.

And it is. But that’s the thing about the Christian life, and Christian ministry. Life and ministry for the believer are nothing less than counterintuitive.

Ministry is not typically the route to fame and fortune; those who pursue it as such are either naïve fools or devils from the pit. Ministry requires the giving up of our desires for such things.We think less of our fulfillment and more of our expendability for the cause of Christ. And in the process, with (as Clowney puts it) our goal being “beyond the grave” and “the crown of [our] high calling in the hand of [our] risen Lord,” we find our true fulfillment.

It might seem like a “wasted” life to some, but it’s one I wouldn’t trade for anything.

More Lessons I’m Learning from Other Preachers

I remember the first time I stepped into the pulpit. I was scared stiff. Sweaty palms, hands clenching my Bible and notes… but in the end, I did okay. Part of what helped was getting some help. The first meeting I ever had with our pastor was for him to give me some pointers. Then another friend took me under his wing, giving me the opportunity to get better.

Like writing, art, music, cooking or pretty much anything else, preaching takes practice. But it also takes a willingness to learn from others. A while back I shared a few lessons I learned from listening to other preachers. Here are a few more that I wanted to share:

1. There’s a difference between “speaking” and “preaching.”

Recently, I was at an event where I listened to a speaker discuss his vision for ministry and how he does life as a pastor. As I heard him speak, something felt off. He was clearly a gifted speaker, but as I listened, I kept thinking, “This is a man who is clearly a good leader, but he’s not a preacher.” He came across more as a CEO than a shepherd.

Perhaps it’s the context in which he was speaking that led to this, but something I’ve noticed about preachers is that what they say is rooted in God’s Word. Dever and Gilbert put it well when they wrote, “Anything that is not rooted in and tethered tightly to God’s Word is not preaching at all.” That’s the difference between speaking and preaching. Preaching is about God. Speaking is more often than not about me.

2. Preaching requires preparation.

Something I’ve become increasingly aware of in my own life is the propensity toward laziness. Once I get comfortable doing something, it’s easy to think I don’t need to put in all the work. I don’t need to practice or put together my notes in a timely fashion (timely, as in, giving myself enough time to prepare). I rely on natural ability rather than on careful, prayerful effort.

Maybe you’ve heard of this before, but I’ve found it helpful to think of raw ability in degrees of competence:

  • There are the consciously incompetent—you know you don’t know what you’re doing;
  • The unconsciously competent—you don’t know you know what you’re doing;
  • The consciously competent—you know you know what you’re doing; and
  • The unconsciously incompetent—you think you know what you’re doing, but not so much.

All of us, in whatever area we serve, move through these degrees of competence. I’ve seen it happen in the same day (and yes, it was me that did it). Those who know they don’t know much are usually the best learners and most open to criticism. The ones who think they’re awesome but aren’t tend to struggle with receiving critical feedback (in my experience at least).

Preaching requires a great deal of careful preparation. It might not take long to craft an outline or a manuscript (I’m actually getting pretty fast at this part), and some of us might be really quick on our feet, but we cannot afford to become undisciplined.

3. Preaching takes courage.

This weekend my own pastor preached another hard one, one that I shared some thoughts about very recently. Malachi’s a hard book, one that some might call a space-maker. As we’ve seen our church grow numerically, I can’t imagine the temptation that he and our elders must face. More people means our space issues become more pressing. More people in need of ministry means more leaders need to be developed. There are a lot of variables that I have no knowledge of whatsoever that come into play, but I can imagine it’s tempting to compromise on values to get things done. But preaching hard texts, ones that force people to feel the weight of their own sin, especially in the face of growth, takes courage.

Those are a few things I’m learning from other preachers—what about you?

Brothers, You are not Jewish Rabbis

Whether you’re an experienced or novice preacher, we would all be wise to take this advice from Mark Dever and Greg Gilbert to heart:

Your sermons should never be forty-five-minute morality lessons or best practices for living a better life. They should drive forward to the good news that King Jesus saves sinners through His life, death, and resurrection from the grave. In fact, we think that in every sermon you preach, you should include at some point a clear and concise presentation of the gospel. Tell people how they may be saved! I never want someone to come to my church, not just for a length of time but even for one single service, and be able to say they didn’t hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. Brothers, you are not Jewish rabbis. You are not called to give sermons that merely tell people how to live rightly or better. Is teaching people to live rightly part of preaching the whole counsel of God? Yes, absolutely, depending on the text! Is that ever all there is to it? Absolutely not! One way or another, every text in the Bible points to Jesus, and you should follow where it points. . . . It’s easy to preach the Bible, especially the Old Testament, as if it were a book of fables—a series of stories that do little more than instruct us morally. But if we believe Jesus, we know those stories are doing much more than that; they are pointing us to Him. So whether we do it by following the story line or pointing out the themes, our job is to show our congregations how to see Jesus, even from the story of Ehud.

Mark Dever and Greg Gilbert, Preach: Theology Meets Practice (Kindle locations 1525, 1560)

4 Functions of Sound Doctrine

Recently, I wrote that one of the key functions of doctrine is that it divides. Because Jesus himself is the most divisive person ever to live, all doctrine that aligns with him will necessarily cause division. But that’s not all that doctrine does. Consider Paul’s words to Timothy in 1 Tim. 4:6-16:

If you put these things before the brothers, you will be a good servant of Christ Jesus, being trained in the words of the faith and of the good doctrine that you have followed. Have nothing to do with irreverent, silly myths. Rather train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance. For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe.

Command and teach these things. Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity. Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching. Do not neglect the gift you have, which was given you by prophecy when the council of elders laid their hands on you. Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching [or doctrine]. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.

Paul points to four truths about sound doctrine in this passage:

Sound doctrine prevents us from falling into irreverent and silly myths.

Man-centered, pop-psychology preaching that has little or nothing to do with the cross of Christ, and in fact makes a mockery of it, leads us to error. It makes us the Bible about us, which is always going to end badly. Sound doctrine will always point us back to Jesus. He is the point of Scripture. He is the Redeemer. He is the author and perfecter of our faith. If what we teach, whether in sermons, books, blogs, lectures or films, doesn’t make Him the point, then we’ve completely and utterly failed in our task.

Sound doctrine trains us in godliness.

Godliness holds promise for the present life and the life to come, says Paul. Good doctrine allows us to better understand who Jesus, and live out our lives in loving grateful response to Him as He truly is.

Sound doctrine will save you.

“Keep a close watch on yourself and on the teaching. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers,” says Paul. The doctrine we proclaim tells others what we believe about Jesus, and if our proclamation is antithetical to Scripture, we have cause for concern. Therefore, we must keep a close watch on ourselves that we not fall into error.

Sound doctrine prevents confusion.

We are not ashamed of the hope that we have in Jesus. We need not fear that teaching sound doctrine—teaching the Scriptures—will return void. Isaiah 55:11 says, “O shall my word be that goes out from my mouth it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it” (emphasis added). God’s word always accomplishes God’s purposes. We need to stand in that confidence and not be afraid to proclaim the word of God!

When we fail to stress the importance of sound doctrine, when we fail to teach it, when we treat everything as “caught,” but not “taught,” where do we find ourselves?

Confusion. We find for ourselves teachers whose words are clever and sound nice, but they teach a different doctrine that does not agree with the sound words of Jesus. “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths” (2 Tim 4:3-4).

“Preach the word,” says Paul in 2 Tim 4:2. “Be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.” At all times, in all places, patiently, lovingly, confidently teach sound doctrine. Remind people that doctrine matters because what we teach about Jesus makes all the difference.