One of the first pastors of the church in Ephesus, Timothy, apparently didn't like the hard stuff side of ministry. And that worried his mentor, Paul, considerably and explains much of the content of the two letters written to Timothy in the New Testament.
Ephesus was a tough city, and the Ephesian Christians were tough people—many of them freshly converted out of unspeakably dark spiritual conditions. My suspicion is that Timothy found Ephesus and its Christians a bit more than he could handle and wanted out. Perhaps that explains why Paul begins the correspondence by saying, "Stay there!"
Timothy was, apparently, a nice and gentle young man. "I have no one like him," Paul wrote the Philippians, "who will so naturally care for you." Quite a compliment.
Solid ground means examining our heart to see if what we're saying comes from a deep affection.
But he seemed to struggle with hard stuff. I'm talking about the kind of preaching and discipling that exposes errant belief, sinful attitudes, and ungodly behavior. hard stuff: calling people to sacrificial living. hard stuff makes people squirm, sometimes angry. But it may cause them to be repentant and eager to find better ways.
Timothy seems similarly reluctant in personal pastoral conversations. Good at eliciting how people feel, where they hurt, where they are struggling (many pastors do this well), he may have backed off from the confrontations necessary to expose people's sin and destructive behavior. One of the earlier hard-stuff messages in the Bible was God's to Cain: "Sin is lurking at your door, and you must master it." Paul is wishing he heard more of that from Timothy.
Preach hard stuff (in Timothy's day as well as ours) and you run the risk that people will leave the church, or that they will make the preacher leave the church. I am reminded of the cartoon in which the preacher says to his wife, "I told them the truth, and they set me free." Admittedly, preaching hard stuff risks losing friends, lowering financial giving—and attendance.
Timothy, it appears, softened rather than toughened his words when he needed to. There are hints that he was guided by his fears, that he had a weak stomach, that he quickly gave ground when he was challenged. Paul—no stranger to these issues—puts it bluntly: Timothy, stop it! Grow up! Be the "prophet" God called you to be! Don't let anyone back you into a corner.
People pleasers
Here is the subtle snare for us "nice guys." We don't like to be hurt, and we don't like to hurt others. We love unity, harmony, happiness in the body. And we drift into the trap of thinking that the best way to achieve that is to avoid hard stuff.
I bet Timothy spent sleepless nights brooding on anyone who criticized his leadership, who opposed his efforts. I imagine he tried to woo people back into his favor. And—I'm guessing here—that he was tempted to pull punches when preparing sermons whenever he realized that a certain comment might offend key people in the congregation.
Early in my own ministry a board chairman whom I loved and respected became exasperated with me. "Pastor," he said one day, "you have a problem! You're too sensitive. You don't want to hear tough words, and you don't want to speak them when they need to be heard. You better resolve this, or you're not going to last in the ministry." Paul lives!
Read Paul's two letters to Timothy, and you may get the feeling that Timothy's over-the-top "people sensitivities" were driving Paul nuts. Kind of like my board chairman. That's why the older man challenges the young man so powerfully: "convince, rebuke, exhort, correct, don't let older people intimidate you or blow you off, don't be timid, guard your gospel carefully (and don't let anyone whittle it down) …"
Paul was right, of course. hard stuff was needed from the pastor at Ephesus because the people lived in a culture saturated with arrogance, violence, greed, stinginess, immorality, and (if that wasn't enough) blatant paganism. And these influences are not easily erased from the redeemed soul.
Preaching hard stuff was needed because the Ephesian congregation was not distinguished with qualities of spiritual beauty. Gossip and slander abounded, wannabe-teachers and leaders competed for recognition and control, and indications are that there was a dimension of church life that moderns identify as spiritual warfare. It wasn't imagined; it was real.
Paul was not asking Timothy to do anything he himself hadn't done many times. His letters to the Corinthians, for example, are full of hard stuff. He challenges dumb-downed theology and expresses consternation about the evils of disunity and insensitivity. He takes on the issues of in-church immorality, of destructive hero-worship. He is blunt about misused spiritual gifts, and he calls out the Corinthians for their dismal record in financial generosity.
Nowhere in the Corinthian letter are these issues candy-coated; nowhere are they compromised for fear of alienating people. Paul is Paul. You hear him saying, "Here's the truth, and let it sting and cleanse where it has to."
Mishandled hard stuff
This is not to say that Paul enjoyed delivering hard stuff. Unlike some, then and now, he was not a homiletical sadist. I think I've heard a few who are. hard stuff is their only brand. They don't feel a sermon is a sermon if it doesn't make people angry, raise guilt, or feel as they are the only "pure" ones in the world (everyone else being so wicked). Preaching nothing but hard stuff is a subtle way to control people.
Crazy as it seems, such preachers can appeal to a kind of people who love hard stuff, who don't feel they've heard the Word of God if it isn't razor-edged with anger and accusation.
These kinds of preachers and audiences seem to find each other (the sadist and the masochist). Preachers who preach nothing but hard stuff are usually angry people themselves. They love throwing their opinions around like hand-grenades.
In spite of what my board chairman said of my super-sensitivity, I did dabble in hard stuff from time to time. And there was feedback.
One day, when I was very new to preaching, the father of one of our families stormed into my little office after a sermon in which I had told the parents of our teenagers that their parenting skills were inadequate. At the time, of course, I had no children of my own, a fact that he pointed out. He brought information that refuted some "facts" with which I'd whacked people. And, finally, he wished to inform me about some realities in child-rearing I couldn't have known apart from first-hand experience.
His opening comment upon arrival: "You ought to get out from behind the pulpit, go into the army, and let someone make a man out of you." That certainly got my attention. It made me evaluate how I preached hard stuff and what its effect might be. I couldn't be insensitive or (in this case) poorly informed. Doing your homework (both spiritual and intellectual) is necessary before you deal with hard stuff.
I wince when I remember the day I made papal-like pronouncements on divorce and later learned that, seated near the front, was the daughter of a family who hadn't been in worship for years but who had come fresh from the divorce court, seeking consolation for her shattered life.
Oh, and there was the day I chose to speak on sacrificial stewardship when several men had just lost their jobs that week.
What I missed was the fact that hard stuff is more than just telling people how off course they are. What I had to learn is what parents have to learn: you don't earn the confidence of your children if all you do is hammer them with critical comments. When it has to happen—and it does—preach hard stuff like a shepherd who would give his life for the sheep.
Blending anger and affection
When Paul wrote hard stuff to Corinth, he made it clear that this was not easy for him. "I write to you tearfully," he said. These are not the words of a man just venting anger and frustration at people who have let him (or the Lord) down. They are the words of a tender father who writes out of broken-heartedness because he loves his people so much.
When Paul raised hard stuff, it was with dignity and exemplary candor.
"I can't treat you as spiritually-oriented people. … I have to treat you like children, offering you milk instead of meat." How's that for bluntness? But later he will remind his hearers that the words were for their benefit. "Some of you are becoming arrogant … some of you are actually proud that there is a bit of immorality among you … some of you who are pursuing lawsuits with each other are defeated already." This is hard stuff, and it's not held back. But it's surgery with a clean and sharp knife.
And then: "I don't regret for a moment that I wrote (hard stuff) to you even if it caused you sorrow."
Or this: "I am afraid that when I come next to visit you I will be greatly distressed by what I find."
What I like about these lines is that Paul talks frankly but without dismissing them. "I'm angry with you," I hear him saying, "but my anger is fueled by my affection for you."
It was not only the Corinthians who heard hard stuff from Paul.
To the Galatians: "You foolish (people): who has deceived you?" "I wish those who are obsessed with circumcision would concentrate on emasculating themselves."
To the Colossians: "Don't let people capture you through hollow and deceptive philosophies that are not built on Christ." A search for all of Paul's hard stuff will take hours.
Elizabeth O'Connor once overheard her nieces playing school. The oldest of the three, Lisa, played the teacher and said, "Now children, there is no such thing as an Easter bunny. Do you hear me?" One of the "students" protested: "Lisa, Lisa, stop teaching us things we do not want to hear."
This is the crux of the issue when it comes to hard stuff. It usually means subject matter that people do not want to hear. So the pastor had better be on solid ground when hard-stuff time comes.
Solid ground
You're on it when you begin with a careful handling of Scripture. Not proof texts where one starts with an opinion and then seeks some sort of biblical endorsement. But a search of the Bible with the question: What does the Bible say to this issue? Which biblical people dealt with this matter and why? What are the implications if we do not change—or if we do?
As preachers, we're on solid ground when we've sought the insights of deep thinkers of the Christian movement not just from our generation but from earlier ones. This means time in the library, of course. How have they spoken to these matters? How did their conclusions affect people in their time?
(Become doubly aware when you learn that some burned at the stake when they said hard stuff.)
Does it need to be said that solid ground also means getting our facts straight? Too often preachers get away with unsubstantiated generalities ("62% of men are … 84% of churches are doing … 40% of Americans say … ") that they heard somewhere on a radio broadcast or in some conversation. Surgical preaching that cuts out spiritual disease demands unimpeachable information.
The solid ground also comes out of a deep and searching prayer life. Prayer, first, that one is operating out of a heart of love. That one is not seeking to control or punish. And that one seeks only God's best for the people. I think our people do not hear enough today that we have been on our knees interceding for them. That alone will concentrate the minds of more than a few in our congregation.
Solid ground means examining our heart to see if what we're saying comes from a deep affection and priestly concern for the person in the pew. Am I in touch with the realities of the real-world life and the pressures the people are under?
In comparing two preachers who preached on hell, a listener said, "The one preached about hell as if he were glad some of us were going there. But the other preached as if the thought that anyone might go there was breaking his heart."
Finally, solid ground requires an integrity check. If we're about to say tough things to our people, it is wise to make sure that I am not under the same judgment I'm about to offer. And if I am, then I must let them know that this is an issue "with which we are all—beginning with myself—struggling."
Hard stuff may include thoughts that are counter to the majority political opinions of a congregation. Hard stuff may mean warning people of an arrogant and condemning spirit toward those who have differing positions on various moral and social issues. And hard stuff may mean calling to peoples' attention the vast number of things the Christian movement tends to ignore because the cultural status quo protects our interests.
Within the church itself, hard stuff may mean holding up the biblical mirror and challenging people to measure themselves in the light of Christ's purity and call to a holier life. It may mean challenging people on the genuineness of their conversion or their blindness to behaviors that are offending and dividing others.
What needs saying
One time I felt constrained to preach to my congregation about the growth of a polarizing spirit over a particular issue. People were talking too much, aligning themselves around positions that were causing strain on the fellowship. Unnecessary, hurtful words were being spoken, and good people, feeling angry, were on the verge of going separate ways.
I began the sermon with two personal stories. I told the people first of a moment in my life when I wrongfully held a spirit of resentment against another person. I described the battle I'd gone through to forgive. Then I told a second story of a time when someone had resented me. Here I described what it felt like to be on the other end of the stick.
When I had the attention of the congregation, I said quietly, "And it is out of my experience on those two occasions that I have a deep and prayerful concern for each of you today." From there I developed a biblical model for the matter we faced.
On the other end of that teaching, I faced the current issue squarely: "I am terribly disappointed in what I'm seeing and hearing today, and (with my voice lowered) it … needs … to … stop … right now! I'm not asking you to do anything I haven't had to do in my journey: Stop hurting each other. Start forgiving each other. The next time I get evidence that this kind of thing is happening, I will come straight to you and raise the matter on a personal basis."
Because I am too much like Timothy, this was very hard to do. But much of the problem was resolved over the next few days.
How often my father said to me when I was a misbehaving child and he was compelled to punish me, "This hurts me more than it hurts you." As a child I found this claim preposterous.
Today I understand it. And it says well what the preacher's heart should be saying: "When it comes to hard stuff, the greater pain is in the soul of the one in the pulpit who must speak tenderly but candidly."
That was Timothy's struggle. It's been mine. Perhaps it is yours too.
Gordon Macdonald is editor at large of Leadership and chair of World Relief.
Copyright © 2005 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information onLeadership Journal.
