From pulpit sermons to classroom instruction, at times my candor, my desire to proclaim the truth in love, was viewed as too "direct." It's easy to respond by saying, "So was Jesus!" (and in some cases this is appropriate), but I often took these these opportunities to look in the mirror of God’s word to evaluate how well I was “rightly dividing the word of truth” and “speaking the truth in love,” adjusting accordingly.
I’ve also discovered that some of the negative responses to hearing the truth in love are simply the conviction of the Holy Spirit and have nothing to do with me. Like I said, Jesus was also considered "direct."
Sadly, many self-professed Christians today equate conviction with condemnation, particularly Americanized Christians who claim a devotion to Jesus yet live as though He doesn’t exist, or see God’s word as subjective. “Don’t judge me,” “That’s not how I interpret the Bible,” and “My Jesus accepts what I believe and do” are often nothing more than tiresome and unbiblical tropes intended to deflect personal accountability.
The Holy Spirit's conviction is not only God’s way of lovingly redirecting our steps, but also evidence that we belong to Him; for neither our flesh nor Satan will ever convict us of sin. God disciplines those He loves (Proverbs 3:11-12; Hebrews 12:6), and while reproof stings for a moment it ultimately brings about fruitfulness (Hebrews 12:11). Condemnation offers no such love, no such promise. Its only goal is to bring enduring guilt and shame.
Picture a young man walking along train tracks listening to music on his noise-cancelling headphones, oblivious to the world around him. You happen to be fishing on a creek running along the tracks and notice the young man. Suddenly, you hear a horn in the distance and realize he has no idea a train is barreling down on him. You yell and wave your arms to get his attention, to no avail. If you don’t act, the man could lose his limbs or even his life. As the train nears, you run and grab him off the tracks just as the train screeches by.
Stunned, the young man gets up, grabs his headphones, and angrily confronts you. “What the heck is your problem?! What’s wrong with you?!” You point to the train and explain you were simply trying to save him, to redirect his steps, to which he replies, “Yeah, but did you have to push me?!”
Sound familiar?
This is not to justify harshness. I've been on both the receiving and giving end of bludgeoning people into "truth" and it doesn't work. Rather, this is an invitation to reconsider the value of God-directed conviction—for us to retain a teachable spirit. It’s also to encourage a level of pragmatism, since none of us will ever be perfect in speaking the truth in love. Sure, that pastor, teacher, family member or friend might have been able to “push” us off a dangerous path more gingerly, but in the end, they might also have saved our life…and for that we should be grateful. The Bible offers instruction here:
"Keep yourselves in the love of God as you await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you eternal life. And indeed, have mercy on those who doubt; and indeed, save others by snatching them from the fire; and to still others show mercy tempered with fear, hating even the clothing stained by the flesh..." (Jude 21-23)
The word "snatching" in the original Greek (harpazó) means, "to seize by force"---again, like grabbing someone off the railroad tracks. Do we avoid such biblical action because we’re afraid we’ll be judged a bad person? Godly conviction, including proclaiming the truth in love, is not designed to harm but to save us from ourselves. We often quote John 3:16, but forget to add verse 17:
“For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.”
Would we rather be run over by a train or be pushed off the tracks by someone who cares enough about us even to put themselves in danger?
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