The Terrifying Responsibility of Teaching (Part 5 of Reflecting on Fallen Leaders)

Approximate Reading Time: 4 minutes

(This article also includes a podcast discussion. Click the play button below, or subscribe and listen on your Apple or Google podcast app.)

Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, knowing that as such we will incur a stricter judgment. (James 3:1)

Whenever I think about how a teacher falls into sin so completely that it destroys their ministry, this verse always runs through my mind. Even in my own small ministry of creating blog articles and podcast episodes, my greatest fear isn’t looking foolish or being unpopular. My greatest fear is that I’ll reach Heaven and discover that something I’ve said led Christ’s followers astray. I don’t pretend I have the power to affect their eternal destiny, but I nevertheless take the words of James seriously with every piece of content I create.

I think that sort of fear is healthy. I also think it’s something easily forgotten as someone gets into the “groove” of their ministry and forgets why they started serving God in the first place. Things that were once exciting or terrifying are now just another day at the office. What once occupied every thought is now a separate area of their lives.

While it seems baffling that prominent teachers could live such double lives, those who commit adultery usually make sense. Understanding a leader’s depravity, it shouldn’t surprise us that someone who has been serving for years can compartmentalize different aspects of their lives – ministry takes up one area of their brain, family another, and their adulterous sin lives somewhere else in their minds. These things don’t touch one another, and thoughts of “ministry” and “family” get pushed back in the midst of adultery, while “adultery” doesn’t enter their mind as they stand up to proclaim the truth of God and His word.

It’s not an excuse, but it makes sense.

However, the longer someone is involved in sin, the more areas of their lives have to be compromised to maintain the sin. Things need to be hidden, lies must be told, and a vicious cycle grows more and more out of control. 

When I kept silent about my sin, my body wasted away
Through my groaning all day long.
For day and night Your hand was heavy upon me;
My vitality failed as with the dry heat of summer.
I acknowledged my sin to You,
And I did not hide my guilt;
I said, “I will confess my wrongdoings to the Lord”;
And You forgave the guilt of my sin. (Psalm 32:3-5)

Many of us know what that’s like. We understand the oppression we feel as we keep trying to feed a sin that is slowly killing us. I hope many of us also understand the freedom that comes from repenting to God and those we’ve hurt by exposing our darkness to the light. For many of us, that moment allows us to go on and serve God with great passion because there’s nothing standing in the way of our relationship with Him. 

And while teachers and pastors may be just as depraved as everyone else, God promises that they are held to stricter standards. So while they may experience the same repentance and forgiveness, the cost to teachers is often far greater than it is for other followers of Christ. Their sins are often known to the public, the good work they’ve done is often stained beyond future usefulness, and their future often has no hope of publicly serving in a teaching position again.

And that’s saying nothing of what it will be like to stand before a holy God and give an account for how they weren’t good stewards of the ministries He gave them. 

But how do teachers avoid such strict judgment? What is common throughout the lives of everyone who loses their ministry and hurts hundreds or thousands of people because of their sin?

You shall fear the LORD your God; you shall serve Him and cling to Him, and you shall swear by His name. (Deuteronomy 10:20)

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is understanding. (Proverbs 9:10)

Any ministry can be about one of two things: us or Christ. When we fall into sin, it’s because we love our sin more than we fear the Lord. We cannot live a life of sin while regularly going before the holy throne of God, knowing we can only approach the Father in the name of Christ. We can’t open His word and desire to let the Holy Spirit teach and guide us while also using the authority of a teacher to coerce or manipulate others to do our bidding.

When a teacher’s sin is exposed, we can trust that they have one thing in common with everyone else: They didn’t fear the Lord, and as a result, they lose their ministry, lose the ability to serve others, and must answer to the God they spent years defying. 

Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a person sows, this he will also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will reap destruction from the flesh, but the one who sows to the Spirit will reap eternal life from the Spirit. (Galatians 6:7-8)

This is worth remembering as we consider our roles as teachers, whether to thousands around the world or a handful of people at our church. Teachers don’t have to be the most clever or eloquent – they must, above all else, fear God. Nothing else will protect us from going astray than to know our God well enough that we understand the weight of His holiness and our utter inability to do any good apart from Him. God is good and merciful and loving, but He is still God. We must never forget that as we serve Him and His people.

5 thoughts on “The Terrifying Responsibility of Teaching (Part 5 of Reflecting on Fallen Leaders)”

  1. Ray, what you’ve written here is certainly sobering. All teachers need to carefully the results of their behavior, whether good or ill.

    I do not see how this post squares with “God doesn’t care what you do;” here, you seem to think that God cares a great deal about our behavior. Care to weigh in?

    1. John, I think you have the wrong idea about what I mean by that. The idea behind that statement gets at the prideful heart of a works-based salvation and moralistic Christianity, both of which encourage people to be whitewashed tombs. It’s not a promotion of antinomianism.

      1. Ray, I think that I understand what you mean, but I’m concerned about how you expect readers to interpret your words.

        You are writing a series about the responsibility of teachers. Most people interpret “God doesn’t care what you do” to reflect an unhealthy degree of antinomianism. Yes, when asked, you do explain that your idea is that we make a big mistake when we take pride in our actions. But your meaning is not the natural meaning of those words.

        Many, many folks truly think that as long as a person says a prayer and “believes” the right things (Jesus Christ is God’s son, fully God and fully man, and the sole means of reconciliation with God) that person is free to behave as he wants. When you write “God does not care what you do,” and do not firmly disclaim antinomianism in your post, you end up encouraging this popular, destructive belief, even though this is not your intent.

        At the risk of writing teacher-to-teacher, you and I need to take responsibility for words that are very, very easily misconstrued. This is a major part of “the terrifying responsibility of teaching.”

        1. I understand your concern and am thankful that my brother in Christ loves me enough to point out a potential problem that might hurt this ministry. If you have seen me say “God doesn’t care what you do” without the context of an article being obvious that it’s not talking about antinomianism, please let me know so I can edit the article to be more clear.

          That being said, I would humbly ask you to consider three things: first, the full statement I’ve made in the past is “God doesn’t care what you do, but why you do it.” A subtle difference, but even that isolated statement makes it a bit more difficult to get the wrong meaning compared to “God doesn’t care what you do,” which isn’t what I’ve said.

          Second, and most important, is that the context of that statement is important. “Do unto others” can be used to justify revenge; “Judge not lest you be judged” is often used to stifle any discussion of sin; “I can do all things through Christ” is used for self-empowerment. Let’s face it, the Prosperity Gospel only exists by taking God’s word out of context. Any statement, viewed in isolation, can be given a completely wrong meaning. It’s unreasonable for any teacher to feel the need to qualify every single statement that could possibly be misconstrued, rather than letting context clues support what they’re saying. As I said, that’s why I’d want to edit any article where the context doesn’t make it obvious that I’m talking about the Christ-centered motivations behind our actions.

          Finally, I’m not sure this statement is as big of a deal in this ministry as one might assume. I know you took issue with the statement several months ago when I said it in a podcast episode, but as far as I remember I haven’t used the phrase since then. It’s also something I think has only appeared a handful of times throughout the rest of my writing in the past. It honestly surprised me to read your original comment on this article, since it’s not something that’s come up since we discussed it in October. I don’t say that to dismiss your concerns, but simply to point out that a single statement made months ago, where the context hopefully clarified any confusion, plays a very small part in the overall teaching I do.

          1. Ray, As usual, I appreciate you good manners, and your willingness to engage constructively. These traits are rare in the church these days, unfortunately.

            The importance of context partly depends on the statement itself. The problem with “God doesn’t care what you do, but why you do it,” is that even in the context of a post about antinomianism, the statement is untrue as far as the Bible is concerned. The Bible has a lot to say about what people should and should not do to achieve salvation, but never gets to “God doesn’t care what you do, but why you do it.” Many, many people believe this, however.

            In our exchange in October, you did not move away from “God doesn’t care what you do.” For example, you would not write something like, “Well, yes, God cares about behavior, but when it comes to salvation, there are other criteria.” That kind of statement would demonstrate that your statement plays only a small part of thinking. But your discomfort with adding even one simple, clear statement affirming that God does care a lot about behavior, indicates that the principle is a pretty big deal to you.

            If you say that “God doesn’t care what you do, but why you do it” is not a big deal to you, then I won’t argue the point further. But there is a real theological problem with that statement that inevitably affects other areas of your thinking.

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