The Only Sermon I’ve Ever Walked Out On

I’ve only walked out on a “sermon” once in my life. It was in Orlando at an SBC Pastor’s Conference. The speaker?

Andy Stanley.

I just couldn’t take another second of it. My heart was breaking. I was desperate for Jesus. Desperate for help as a pastor. I needed to hear the word of God and what I got was business principles on how to reach people for Jesus. The chorus of “Amen’s” all around me was more than I could stomach. So I walked out and tried my best not to embarrass myself by weeping in the hallway.

I saw so many other pastor’s eating these principles up and it just broke my heart. It broke my heart because it felt like a slap in the face of Jesus and his sufficiency. It made me wonder if it all was just a big show. Are we all just playing a game? If the whole thing was about business principles and stuff that I could do, then I didn’t want anything of it. I’ll devote my life to some other enterprise. If that’s all ministry is, then keep it.*

Much has been made of Andy Stanley’s recent comments on the insufficiency of the Bible. Call them what you will, that is what they amount to. (And I think Jared Wilson handles this better than anyone I’ve read). I read a quote by John Bunyan awhile back that put a very helpful image in my mind as a preacher:

The Word of God, when in a man’s hand only, is like the father’s sword in the hand of the sucking child; which sword, though never so well pointed, and though never so sharp on the edges, is not now able to conquer a foe, and to make an enemy fall and cry out for mercy, because it is but in the hand of the child.

But now, let the same sword be put into the hand of a skilful father, and God is both skilful and able to manage his Word, and then the sinner, and then the proud helpers too, are both made to stoop, and submit themselves; wherefore, I say, though the Word be the instrument, yet of itself doth do no saving good to the soul; the heart is not broken, nor the spirit made contrite thereby; it only worketh death, and leaveth men in the chains of their sins, still faster bound over to eternal condemnation

But here is the issue that I have with not only the recent comments by Andy Stanley but really his whole philosophy of ministry. He isn’t even arguing for preaching the Word in his own power. He is arguing for proclaiming his own words (and I believe he believes with the Spirit’s empowerment) to win sinners who couldn’t care less about the Bible.

But I’d say the same thing to Stanley that I said when I first read that Bunyan quote. Our daggers won’t do. On that muggy Orlando morning, Stanley was urging thousands of preachers to pick up their daggers and get to work. He isn’t much for praying for revival and waiting on God to move (and parts of this I agree with him) but he all but admits that if the mighty sword doesn’t fall then we might as well take up our daggers in the mean time.

This is what I said about such dagger preaching awhile back:

Such a thing, I’m convinced, can help a preacher keep his job for quite some time. Especially if every preacher before him also crafted his own daggers. The congregation won’t know what their missing having only been pierced by the preachers dwarf blade. In fact the congregation might even grow accustomed to only feeling a tiny prick of conscience on occasion.

Brothers, our daggers won’t do. We need to wield a sword that only the Father can lift. Only His work will last into eternity. Though we might feel as if we are playing the man by lacing our congregation with our self-made sabers, in the end all of the bloodshed will be meaningless. We must have God’s power to engage in any meaningful preaching.

And this is the issue that I have with the things Andy Stanley is saying. In this era, apart from the Word of God all we really have are daggers. We aren’t apostles. We aren’t prophets. We are stewards—called to guard the good deposit entrusted to us. We are called to lift up that mighty sword. A sword we can’t lift by our own power, or studies, or cleverness, or even a legion of sinners just like ourselves. It is a sword that can only be wielded by the Master.

But the glorious thing is that God is pleased to wield that sword through our feeble hands. This is what I depend upon every time I step into the pulpit and every time I go out to lunch with a member of our church or engage in conversation with an unbeliever.

I walked out in Orlando because I didn’t need a dagger. I needed the sword. And I wept—inwardly, as one would weep when uncomfortable and surrounded by thousands–because I saw pastors all around me picking up daggers. And I know that these daggers will never do the job we are called to do.

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*Thankfully, there were many who did bring the gospel at that Orlando Pastors Conference and my soul was nurtured. I did leave refreshed.

I fear that the tone of this isn’t what I’m hoping for. As I’ve read through this a few times it is coming across as if I have this thing figured out and the thousands of pastors in Orlando are messed up fools for grabbing at daggers. That’s not my intention. Daggers are tempting. They are tempting for me every single day. And part of my struggle in Orlando was that in my desperation the lesser lover of easy to implement business principles was an attractive mistress. But I’d been burned before. So, I guess I’m really just saying I don’t buy what Andy Stanley is trying to sell us and I wish we’d stop giving him a platform to promote this stuff.

Photo source: here