7. Courage and Humility
There is an urgent need for courageous preachers who, like the apostles, will be “filled with the Holy Spirit” and will speak “the word of God boldly” (Acts 4:31, compare v. 13). People-pleasers and time-fillers never make good preachers. We are called to the holy task of biblical exposition and are appointed to proclaim what God has said, not what people want to hear.
Many in our churches “turn their ears away from the truth”, and look for “teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear” (2 Tim. 4:3, 4). But we should not scratch their itch or indulge them. We are to be like Paul who twice reminded the Ephesians that he had “not hesitated to preach anything that would be helpful” to them, proclaiming “the whole will of God” (Acts 20:20, 27). We have to beware of choosing texts and topics to suit our likes and dislikes or popular fashion. “People are driven from the church . . . not so much by stern truth that makes them uneasy as by weak nothings that make them contemptuous.” Yet many preachers get caught in the snare of fear (Prov. 29:25). Once ensnared, we are no longer free; we have become the servants of public opinion.
The Tradition of Courageous Preaching
There have been many courageous preachers. Moses heard, believed, obeyed and taught the word of God, in spite of opposition and resulting loneliness. Elijah stood alone to fight for religious truth and social justice as he challenged the prophets of Baal and condemned the king and queen for murdering Naboth. Nathan dared to challenge King David about his adultery with Bathsheba and his murder of her husband. Amos spoke out against evil in the king’s sanctuary at Bethel and foretold a horrible fate for Amaziah who tried to silence him. Jeremiah, although a patriot, was accused of hating his own country because he faithfully conveyed God’s words.
This tradition of courage includes John the Baptist. John was neither a reed blown by public opinion nor an aristocrat satisfying his own desires; he was a true prophet, controlled by the word of God (Matt. 11:7-11). His courage cost him his life. He was the last of the long line of prophets whom Israel rejected and killed (Matt. 23:29-36; Acts 7:52) before killing their Messiah and opposing his apostles (1 Thess. 2:15).
Jesus himself spoke fearlessly. Towards the end of his life the disciples of the Pharisees admitted: “Teacher, we know that you are a man of integrity and that you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are” (Matt. 22:16). It is not surprising that his popularity in Galilee lasted only about a year, nor that the authorities decided to kill him.
Jesus warned his followers that if the teacher was persecuted, his disciples would also be persecuted. And so it happened, a direct result of the boldness of their witness to Jesus. Peter and John were imprisoned. Stephen and James were martyred. Paul suffered greatly. From prison Paul wrote to ask his friends to pray that he might be given the words “so that I may fearlessly make [the gospel] known” (Eph. 6:19, 20). Instead of silencing him, his imprisonment gave him new opportunities for courageous testimony. The book of Acts ends with him under house arrest in Rome, still welcoming all who visited him, and still preaching and teaching “with all boldness and without hindrance” (Acts 28:30, 31).
This tradition of courageous witness and consequent suffering has continued throughout church history. Chrysostom in the fourth century preached with great power and courage, first in Antioch and then for six years as Archbishop of Constantinople, until he offended the empress and was banished. He spoke out bravely against evil in the city, and “rebuked without fear or favour all classes and conditions of men”. John Wycliffe, the forerunner of the English Reformation, opposed the church leaders, criticizing their worldliness, the corruption of the pope and the error of transubstantiation. He was put on trial several times, but his friends defended him and he escaped condemnation. However, many of his followers were burned as heretics. Luther is on record as saying that “Whoever wants to do his duty as a preacher . . . must denounce anyone that needs to be denounced — great or small, rich or poor or powerful, friend or foe”.
The Scottish reformer John Knox was physically weak, but he had a fiery nature and spoke forcefully. After his return to Scotland in 1559, his courageous preaching encouraged the Scots who longed for a reformed church. Summoned before the queen, whom he had offended with his preaching, he told her that in the pulpit “I am not master of myself, but must obey him who commands me to speak plain, and to flatter no flesh upon the face of the earth.”
In the twentieth century there were many courageous preachers worldwide who refused to edit their message to make it more popular. One was Archbishop Janani Luwum of Uganda, who was murdered in 1977 because of his denunciation of the excesses of Idi Amin. Another was Martin Luther King Senior, the father of the assassinated black American civil rights leader, who is described as “a big man, physically and spiritually. He stands strong and broad in his pulpit, afraid of no man, white or black, telling it like it is, preaching the word to his congregation and giving them his overflowing love.”
To Comfort and Disturb
Preachers, like prophets, believe they bring a word from God, and are not free to change it. Therefore all preachers have at various times to choose between truth with unpopularity and falsehood with popularity.
The gospel still offends, and nobody who preaches it faithfully can expect to escape all opposition. People today resent the exclusiveness of the Christian faith, and they resent the humiliation of being unable to reach God through their own wisdom or goodness. Christ from his cross seems to say, “I am here because of you. If it were not for your sin and pride, I would not be here. And if you could have saved yourself, I would not be here either.” The Christian pilgrimage begins with bowed head and bent knee at the cross; there is no other way into the kingdom of God.
Towards the end of his ministry, Alexander Whyte came to a crisis on this very issue. He knew that some people felt he over-emphasized sin, and he was tempted to soften that aspect of his preaching. But one day while he was walking:
What seemed to me to be a Divine Voice spoke with all-commanding power in my conscience, and said to me as clear as clear could be: “No! Go on, and flinch not! Go back and boldly finish the work that has been given you to do. Speak out and fear not. Make them at any cost to see themselves in God’s holy law as in a glass. Do you that, for no one else will do it. No one else will so risk his life and his reputation as to do it. And you have not much of either left to risk. Go home and spend what is left of your life in your appointed task of showing my people their sin and their need of my salvation.”
He did, with the “fresh authority and fresh encouragement” imparted by this heavenly vision.
Preachers cannot escape this duty of disturbing their listeners. We know that Christ spoke many comforting words, some of which are repeated in many Communion services. But not all his words were comforting; some were deeply disturbing. We must be like him and preach about God’s anger as well as his love, grace and mercy; judgment as well as salvation; hell as well as heaven; death without Christ as well as resurrection with him; repentance as well as faith; Christ as Lord as well as Saviour; the cost as well as the rewards of Christian discipleship; self-denial as the path to self discovery; and the yoke of Christ’s authority under which we find our rest.
Are we faithful in teaching what the apostles taught about relationships between husbands and wives, parents and children, masters and servants? Do we point out that envy is idolatry, that wealth is dangerous, and that Christians are called to care for one another? Do we insist that lifelong heterosexual marriage is God’s choice for sexual fulfilment; that divorce (even if it is sometimes allowed because of human sinfulness) is never God’s ideal? Do we preach that heterosexual adultery and immorality as well as homosexual practices are contrary to his will? Do our listeners know that God created work to allow us to be partners with him, to serve others and to know self-fulfilment, and that unemployment is a tragedy?
Yet the more we feel it necessary, in these sinful days, to preach about the judgment of God, the more we also need to stress his mercy towards sinners. Jesus spoke out fiercely against the hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees, yet he was called the friend of sinners. Sinners flocked round him and listened to him gladly. He invited them to come to him with their burdens and promised to give them rest. He accepted the affection of a forgiven prostitute, and told the woman caught in adultery, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11).
It is significant that Paul appealed to the Corinthians with “the meekness and gentleness of Christ” (2 Cor. 10:1). Yet he expected the churches to discipline offenders and even to excommunicate those who did not repent. It is obvious that he found no pleasure in these things. Indeed, he compared himself to a mother taking care of her children and to a loving father (1 Thess. 2:7, 11).
Every Christian pastor today should have the same feelings of tender love towards those who have been committed to his care. As we speak to them every Sunday, we know some of the burdens they are bearing. As we look at their faces, we know that almost everybody has been bruised by life. We know they are feeling the pressure of temptation, defeat, depression, loneliness or despair. While it is true that some need to be disturbed from their self-satisfaction, others need the comfort of God’s love above all else.
We need to pray for sensitivity to find the right balance so that we can, “disturb the comfortable and comfort the disturbed”. Like John Newton, the converted slave-trader, we must aim “to break a hard heart and to heal a broken heart”.
The Value of Systematic Exposition
Because it takes courage to deal with certain issues, I recommend systematic exposition, working steadily through a book of the Bible or a section of a book, verse by verse or paragraph by paragraph. This approach forces us to discuss passages that we might otherwise overlook, or even deliberately avoid.
I remember preaching through the Sermon on the Mount, and coming to Matthew 5:31, 32, in which our Lord deals with the subject of divorce. Although I had been in the pastoral ministry for twenty-five years, to my shame I had never preached on this topic despite the fact that it is a major issue today. Of course I could have made a number of excuses. “It’s a very complex subject, and I don’t have the necessary expertise.” “It’s also controversial, and I don’t want to stir up trouble.” “I’d be sure to offend somebody.” But now I was leading the congregation through the Sermon on the Mount, and I could not possibly skip verses 31 and 32. No, I had to do what I had so long neglected, spending hours in study and thought before doing so.
A second benefit of this approach to preaching is that people will not be curious about why we choose a particular text on a particular Sunday. If I had suddenly preached on divorce, church members would have wondered, “Who is he aiming at today?” But, because they knew these were the next verses in the chapter through which I was preaching, their attention was not distracted by such questions.
The third benefit is probably the greatest: it models how to read the Bible. This deep, organized opening-up of a large portion of Scripture broadens people’s thinking, introduces them to some of the Bible’s major themes, and shows them how to interpret Scripture by Scripture. P. T. Forsyth explains:
We need to be defended from [the preacher’s] subjectivity, his excursions, his monotony, his limitations. We need, moreover, to protect him from the peril of preaching himself or his age. We must all preach to our age, but woe to us if it is our age we preach, and only hold up the mirror to the time.
He stresses that one of a preacher’s tasks is to rescue the Bible from the approach that
reduces it to a religious scrapbook, and uses it only in verses and phrases . . . He must cultivate more the free, large and organic treatment of the Bible, where each part is most valuable for its contribution to a living, evangelical whole, and where that whole is articulated into the great course of human history.
For the health of the church, which lives and grows through the word of God, and for the sake of the preacher who needs this discipline, we must return to systematic exposition. In doing so, however, we need to consider our audience carefully and not feed them more than they can cope with. Not all congregations are spiritually mature or hungry enough to digest long expositions over many months. But if we take a paragraph (or several paragraphs or even a chapter) and work through it for a few weeks or months, our hearers will be well fed, while learning how to study the Scriptures for themselves. And we preachers will grow the courage we need to unfold the whole wisdom of God.
Humility
Unfortunately, our decision to be courageous in the pulpit can result in our becoming stubborn and arrogant. We may speak out, but may spoil it by becoming proud of our outspokenness. Pride is a major problem for any preacher and has ruined many, making their ministry powerless.
In some it is obvious. They seem almost to be repeating the boastful words of Nebuchadnezzar, “Is not this the great Babylon I have built . . . by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” (Dan. 4:30). “Would to God,” says Henry Ward Beecher, “that these preachers, like Nebuchadnezzar, might go to grass for a time if, like him, they would return sane and humble.”
In other preachers, however, pride is more indirect, more deceptive, and more troublesome. It is possible to seem humble while constantly longing for praise. At the very moment we are glorifying Christ, we can actually be looking for our own glory. When we are pleading with the congregation to praise God, or even leading them in praise, we can be secretly hoping that they will spare a bit of praise for us. We need to cry out with Baxter, “O what a constant companion, what a tyrannical commander, what a sly, subtle and insinuating enemy is this sin of pride!”
We have to fight this enemy. One way to do so is to remind ourselves that above all humility is about “walking humbly with your God” (Mic. 6:8). We need to remember our calling to submit to the word of God, exalt our Master and depend on the Holy Spirit. We need to value others more than ourselves, and gladly serve them (Phil. 2:3, 4; 1 Pet. 5:5). To do this requires a humble mind, humble motives and humble dependence.
The humble mind is neither closed nor uncritical, but it recognizes its limitations. It echoes Psalm 131:1: “My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me.” It recognizes that God is all-knowing and that “such knowledge is too wonderful for me; too lofty for me to attain” (Ps. 139:6). The humble mind knows that God is beyond our understanding, that his thoughts and ways are higher than ours — just as the heavens are higher than the earth (Isa. 55:8, 9). It realizes that without his self-revelation, we could never know him. It understands that “the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom” (1 Cor. 1:25). We are foolish to imagine we could ever know his mind by ourselves, let alone instruct him or offer him advice (Rom. 11:33, 34). We are not free, therefore, to contradict his revelation or to criticize his plan of salvation or the cross at the centre of it. God says, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise” and in his wisdom saves us through the “foolishness” of the gospel (1 Cor. 1:18-25; see also 3:18-20). It is our responsibility, therefore, to do everything we can, in ourselves and others, to “demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and [to] take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (2 Cor. 10:5).
This submission to God’s revelation in Christ influences our preaching. The preacher with a humble mind will refuse to manipulate the biblical text in order to make it more acceptable to our day and age. Any attempt to make it more acceptable is really about making ourselves more acceptable or popular.
Adding to God’s word was the fault of the Pharisees, and subtracting from it was the fault of the Sadducees. Jesus criticized them both, insisting that the word of God must be allowed to stand by itself, without pluses or minuses, without enlargement or change, supreme and complete in its authority. Anyone who refuses to submit to God’s word and “does not agree to the sound instruction of our Lord Jesus Christ and to godly teaching” is among those who are “conceited and understand nothing” (1 Tim. 6:3, 4; Titus 1:9, 10). Christian preachers are to be neither inventors of new doctrines nor editors who delete old doctrines. Rather, they are to be stewards, faithfully handing out scriptural truths to God’s household. Nothing more, nothing less, and nothing else.
To ensure this, we need to come to the Scriptures daily, and to sit humbly, like Mary, at Jesus’ feet, listening to his word. We must come expectantly for, as Jesus plainly stated, God hides his secrets from the wise and learned, and reveals them instead to little children, to humble, open-hearted seekers for the truth (Matt. 11:25).
Humility of mind is to be accompanied by humble motives. Why do we preach? What do we hope to accomplish? Too often our motives are selfish. We desire the praise and the congratulations of men. We stand at the door after services and feast on the remarks our congregation make. To be sure, genuine words of appreciation can do much to boost a discouraged preacher. But idle flattery is damaging to the preacher and displeasing to God. Congregations should, therefore, be encouraged to be careful in their expressions of encouragement.
The main purpose of preaching is to expound Scripture so faithfully and relevantly that Jesus Christ is seen to be able to meet every need. The true preacher is a witness; he is constantly testifying to Christ. But without humility he neither can nor wants to do so. James Denney was well aware of this, and so he had the following words framed in the vestry of his Scottish church: “No man can bear witness to Christ and to himself at the same time. No man can give the impression that he himself is clever and that Christ is mighty to save.”
In other words, preaching is meant to encourage a meeting between God and the people. Donald G. Miller puts it more strongly. “No man has really preached until the two-sided encounter between him and his congregation has given way to a three-sided encounter, where God himself becomes one of the living parties to it.” I agree. The most moving experience a preacher can ever have is when, in the middle of the sermon, a strange hush descends upon the congregation. The sleepers have woken up, the coughers have stopped coughing, and the fidgeters are sitting still. No eyes or minds are wandering. Everybody is listening, but not to the preacher. The preacher is forgotten, and the people are face to face with the living God, listening to his still, small voice.
A biblical image may make this clearer. The Old Testament explained the relationship between Yahweh and Israel as a marriage, and in the New Testament, Jesus called himself the Bridegroom (Mark 2:19, 20). John the Baptist’s role was to be his forerunner, sent ahead of him, like the best man at a wedding who wants to do all he can to ensure that the wedding goes well and that nothing comes between the bride and the bridegroom. As John said, “The bride belongs to the bridegroom. The friend who attends the bridegroom waits and listens for him, and is full of joy when he hears the bridegroom’s voice. That joy is mine, and it is now complete. He must become greater; I must become less” (John 3:28-30). The preacher’s ministry is like that of John the Baptist, preparing Christ’s way, rejoicing in his voice, leaving him with his bride, and constantly decreasing in order that Christ may increase.
The Apostle Paul clearly saw this as his ministry. “I promised you to one husband, to Christ,” he wrote to the Corinthians, “so that I might present you as a pure virgin to him.” He even felt jealous on behalf of Christ, because the bride was showing signs of unfaithfulness (2 Cor. 11:2, 3). “We are to be the friends of the Bridegroom,” said J. H. Jowett, “winning men, not to ourselves but to him, match-making for the Lord, abundantly satisfied when we have brought the bride and the bridegroom together.”
Finally, we must exhibit a humble dependence. Every preacher desires to be effective. We hope the people will listen to our sermons, understand them and respond in faith and obedience. But on what do we rely to achieve this?
Many rely on themselves. They are strong and outgoing. They may also have a sharp mind. So they make an impression on everybody they meet, for they are born leaders. They naturally expect to use these gifts while they are in the pulpit. Are they right to do so? Yes and no. Certainly, they should recognize these gifts as coming from God. They should not pretend that they lack these gifts, nor try to suppress them, nor neglect to use them. But they should not imagine that even God-given talents can bring people to Christ without the addition of God-given blessing.
We need to remember both the pitiful spiritual condition of people without Christ and the frightening strength and skill of the powers of darkness opposing us. Jesus talked about human lostness in terms of physical disability. By ourselves we are blind to God’s truth and deaf to his voice. Lame, we cannot walk in his ways. Mute, we can neither sing to him nor speak for him. We are even dead in our trespasses and sins. We are also the slaves of demonic forces. Of course, if we think this is exaggerated or false, then we shall see no need for supernatural power. But if people are really spiritually and morally blind, deaf, dumb, lame and even dead or imprisoned by Satan, then it is ridiculous to imagine that by ourselves and our merely human preaching we can reach or rescue them.
Only Jesus Christ through his Holy Spirit can open blind eyes and deaf ears, make the lame walk and the dumb speak. Only he can wake up the conscience, enlighten the mind, fire the heart, move the will, give life to the dead and rescue slaves from Satan. Therefore, our greatest need as preachers is to be “clothed with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). Like the apostles, we must preach the gospel “by the Holy Spirit sent from heaven” (1 Pet. 1:12). Then the gospel will come to people “not simply with words but also with power, with the Holy Spirit and deep conviction” (1 Thess. 1:5).
Why is this power missing in our preaching? I strongly suspect that the main reason is our pride. In order to be filled with the Spirit, we must first acknowledge our own emptiness. In order to be used by God, we must first humble ourselves under his mighty hand (1 Pet. 5:6). In order to receive his power, we must first admit and delight in our own weakness.
This idea of “power through weakness” is repeated again and again in Paul’s letters to the Corinthians. The Corinthians were proud people, boastful about their own gifts and achievements and about their leaders. Paul was horrified! They were giving him the respect that was due to Christ alone. “Was Paul crucified for you?” he cries out in dismay. “Were you baptized into the name of Paul?” (1 Cor. 1:13). “So then, no more boasting about human leaders,” he insists. “Let those who boast boast in the Lord” (1 Cor. 3:21; 1:31).
Against this background Paul’s “power through weakness” theme stands out clearly. There are three main passages in which it occurs.
I came to you in weakness with great fear and trembling. My message and my preaching were not with wise and persuasive words, but with a demonstration of the Spirit’s power, so that your faith might not rest on human wisdom, but on God’s power. (1 Cor. 2:3-5)
But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves. (2 Cor. 4:7, nasb)
Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’ sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Cor. 12:7-10)
Note the repeated use of the words so that. Let me repeat Paul’s statements in my own words:
“I was with you in personal weakness. I therefore relied on the Holy Spirit’s powerful demonstration of the truth of my message, so that your faith might rest in God’s power alone.”
“We have the treasure of the gospel in fragile clay pots (that’s how weak and brittle our bodies are) so that it may be plainly seen that the tremendous power which keeps us going and which converted you comes from God and not from ourselves.”
“Because Jesus told me that his power is made perfect in human weakness, therefore I will gladly boast about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest upon me . . . For it’s only when I’m weak that I’m strong.”
We cannot ignore the significance of this repeated phrase, or the conclusion to which it points. Human weakness was deliberately allowed to continue because through it the divine power could operate and be displayed. Paul recognized that his thorn in the flesh (whether physical or psychological) was “a messenger of Satan”. But the Lord Jesus Christ rejected Paul’s pleadings that it might be removed. It was given to humble him. And it was allowed to remain so that in his weakness, Christ’s power might rest on him and be made perfect in him.
All preachers are limited, sinful, weak and imperfect “earthenware vessels” or “jars of clay”. The power belongs to Christ and is deployed through his Spirit. The words we speak in human weakness, the Holy Spirit carries by his power to the mind, heart, conscience and will of the hearers.
A mind which submits to the written word of God, a desire for Christ to meet with his people, and a dependence on the power of the Holy Spirit — this is the humility we need. Our message must be God’s word, not ours; our aim Christ’s glory, not ours; and our confidence the Holy Spirit’s power, not ours.