Boldness Without Bitterness: A Pastoral Plea in the Age of Combative Christianity

The Faithful Shepherd

It’s become a pattern too familiar to ignore.

A preacher bursts onto the scene, confident and confrontational. He exposes compromise. He names names. He mocks weakness. His tone is brash, unapologetically “alpha,” and quickly garners a loyal following. People, especially young men disillusioned with shallow preaching or moral failure, start to quote him, share his clips, and emulate his voice.

And just when it seems that wave has died down, another one rises—different face, same spirit.

I’ve seen this cycle my whole ministry. It’s wearisome, and worse—it’s spiritually harmful. That’s why it must be addressed. Not with more brashness, but with biblical clarity and pastoral concern.

The Allure of Aggressive Voices

There’s no question—boldness is needed in our time. The church is beset on all sides by compromise, cowardice, and confusion. Many pulpits have gone soft, silent, or self-protective. People are hungry for clarity, courage, and conviction.

But boldness without the Spirit quickly becomes bitterness disguised as bravery.

This style of “call-out Christianity” is often laced with sarcasm, mockery, and macho posturing. It brands itself as prophetic, but more often sounds like a locker-room rant sprinkled with Scripture. The fruit of such ministries isn’t holiness and humility, but suspicion, pride, and division.

Prophets or Performers?

True prophets wept while they warned. Jeremiah cried. Paul grieved. Jesus stood over Jerusalem and wept before He overturned tables. There is a weight to their words—a sorrow in their sternness. They bore burdens, not egos.

Today, many mistake volume for valor and insults for insight. They punch down at struggling pastors, belittle those they deem soft, and boast about not being afraid of anyone. They posture as warriors, but rarely seem to wash feet.

This is not prophetic. It’s performative.

When Gatekeepers Become Guillotine-Wielders

A troubling trend has emerged where some voices not only question a man’s qualifications for ministry after a fall (which may be valid), but go even further—openly suggesting that certain fallen believers should never be allowed back into a church again.

This goes far beyond pastoral concern—it becomes spiritual exile.

Some even invoke 1 Corinthians 5:11: “with such a one no not to eat,” using it as a permanent sentence rather than a redemptive process. But that very passage was followed, in Paul’s later writing, with a command to “forgive him and comfort him,” lest he be “swallowed up with overmuch sorrow” (2 Cor. 2:7).

Church discipline is real, and disqualification from leadership is sometimes permanent. But to treat the local church like a closed bunker and certain sinners as unworthy of even attending is to forget the grace of the gospel.

Christ’s church is not a fortress for the pure—it is a hospital for the penitent.

A man may never return to the pulpit, but if he repents, he should always be welcomed at the foot of the cross. The same mercy that restored Peter after denial and received the thief on the cross is still at work today.

The Flesh in Christian Camouflage

Paul warned of “strife, seditions, heresies” as works of the flesh (Galatians 5:19–21), not fruit of the Spirit. Yet some ministries thrive on that very thing—stirring up strife, celebrating controversy, living off views and clicks that come from conflict.

This combative spirit often mocks anything it deems “beta”—including kindness, gentleness, nuance, or cooperation. But these are not signs of weakness. They are the very attributes that mark the Spirit-filled man (Galatians 5:22–23).

When masculinity becomes more about dominance than discipleship, and ministry becomes more about war cries than Word-centered wisdom, we’ve drifted from Christ, no matter how loud we shout His name.

The Shepherd’s Tone

A true shepherd may rebuke sharply when needed (Titus 1:13), but his heart always longs for restoration, not demolition. He feeds and leads. He warns and weeps. He doesn’t strut into the pulpit to prove how fearless he is. He walks humbly, knowing he answers to God for every word.

The spirit that constantly declares, “I’m not afraid of you” is usually more concerned with self-image than spiritual fruit. There is a quiet confidence that comes from the Spirit—and it never needs a megaphone to announce its arrival.

A Call to the Church: Discern the Spirit

Brothers and sisters, be discerning. Not every bold voice is a godly one. Not every loud preacher is a faithful one. Some men gain platforms through outrage, not obedience. Others wield truth like a club, not a scalpel.

Ask yourself:

👉 Does this voice produce the fruit of the Spirit in others? (Galatians 5:22–23) - Is the preaching marked by this Spirit-given fruit?

👉 Does it build up the body, or just break down people (Ephesians 4:12-16)?

👉 Is this man ministering from a heart of sorrow, or just a platform of superiority? Does his ministry reflect the tone and tenderness of Jesus or the tactics of the flesh?

👉 Does he weep before he warns?

👉 Is he feeding the flock or just fighting with the "enemies"/critics?

👉 Does he pursue redemption, or only relish in reputation?

👉 Would I want my son to become like him—not just in doctrine, but in spirit?

👉 Is his tone that of a shepherd, or a showman?

👉 When confronted with a repentant sinner, does he restore—or just repost/rehash?

👉 Would Jesus sit quietly under this man’s ministry?

👉 Am I becoming More like Christ under this man's influence?

True discernment doesn’t just ask, “Is he right?”

It asks, “Is he Christlike while being right?”

Discernment is not suspicion. It is wisdom.

We test the spirits (1 John 4:1) not just by words spoken—but by fruit borne.

A Call to Pastors: Keep Your Bearings

If you’re a pastor worn down by this culture—press on. Don’t trade biblical ministry for theatrics. Don’t try to “out-bold” those who walk in the flesh. Stay broken. Stay biblical. Stay the course.

Your steadiness will outlast their spectacle.

A Better Boldness

The answer is not cowardice—it is Christlike courage. A courage that weeps, prays, preaches, warns, and loves. A courage that doesn’t have to shout, “I’m not afraid of you,” because it already fears God.

That kind of boldness doesn’t fade when the trend shifts. It bears fruit that lasts. And it brings glory not to the man, but to the Master.

For those seeking to lead with conviction and Christlike compassion, I’ve outlined a simple, biblical Ministry Ethic for the Faithful Shepherd. You can read or share it [here].

It is not a pledge for perfection, but a pattern for those who want to finish well.