Few people have been canceled for what they have done in the pews, but a good many have been canceled for what they have done in the pulpit. Few gossip bloggers or discernment vloggers scan videos of the congregation to look for sins, nits, or anomalies, but many scan videos of the pastors. There is a whole industry of people who watch sermons in order to mock, rate, review, critique, or bring down the preachers. If it has always been a risk to be the person at the front of the room, how much more today, when a single errant word, embarrassing flub, or theological mistake can make its way around the world at the speed of social media? A sermon can become a meme before a pastor has even offered the benediction.
A young man who aspires to church leadership recently asked me what he should know about being a pastor and preacher. And this was what I told him: Acknowledge the risk you take by being the man in the pulpit.
Of course, there has always been the risk of dishonoring God by getting Scripture wrong or by going beyond what the Bible clearly states. While few men will ever teach outright heresy, most will at one time or another preach facts that are wrong, emphases that are skewed, or applications that veer either legalistic or antinomian. Many men cringe to remember their most youthful sermons when their convictions were strong, but their wisdom was weak. “Not many of you should become teachers,” says James, “for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness” (James 3:1). Most preachers grapple with this statement from their first sermon to their last, and rightly so.
There has also always been the risk of being a spiritual target. The men who lead the regiment are the focus of every sniper, and likewise, the men who lead the church are the focus of the enemy as he wages war against God and his church. The man at the front of the room should expect that he will always be held firmly in the devil’s crosshairs.1
A sermon can become a meme before a pastor has even offered the benediction.
And then there has always been the risk that the pastor will just plain embarrass himself in front of his church. Every seasoned pastor could put together an agonizing mental blooper reel of misspoken words, poor choices of vocabulary, or unintentional double entendres. There are the illustrations that fell flat, the iPads that crashed, the mics that were left hot, the notes that fluttered to the floor, and the flies that were somehow left unzipped. To be the man at the front is to risk public humiliation. Some can shrug this off or even embrace it, but for others, it can be an insurmountable obstacle.
And then, beyond all of this, there are the additional risks that come in this new world where the expectation is that every sermon is recorded and where the rising expectation is that every sermon is streamed. Combine the speed and power of social media with that cottage industry of evil actors (those aforementioned bloggers and vloggers), and the risk is amplified all the more.
Yet the Word must be preached, for the lost must be called and the called must be equipped. The Word must be preached, for God has called the church to be a preaching church, to minister his truths from the pulpit to the people. And since preaching requires preachers, there must be men who accept the risk. Hence, my counsel to the aspiring preacher is not simply to admit that if you spend enough time at the front of the room, you will eventually suffer humiliation, but also to accept the risk as worth it—worth it to obey God by heralding the good news of what Christ has done. Every good thing brings some risk, and this risk is light compared to the glorious weight of the truth. The church needs men who, like Isaiah, will say, “Here I am; send me” (Isaiah 6:8).
I suppose there must be some people who find it exhilarating to be at the front of a room, but I think there are many more who find it draining. There must be some people who look forward to it, but there are also many who dread it. There are some who think they deserve to be up there, but far more who accept the role out of obedience to God. I want to honor those who accept the risk, and I encourage you to do the same. And together let’s pray that God will continue to raise up men who will stand up and lead his people, for the pulpit must be filled and the truth must be proclaimed.
- On that note, here’s an apt quote from De Witt Talmage. “A French general, riding on horseback at the head of his troops, heard a soldier complain and say, ‘It is very easy for the general to command us forward while he rides and we walk.’ Then the general dismounted and compelled the complaining soldier to get on the horse. Coming through a ravine, a bullet from a sharpshooter struck the rider, and he fell dead. Then the general said, ‘How much safer it is to walk than to ride.’” ↩︎
