Back to the 90’s
My college years were a critically important part of my spiritual formation. I met one of my most cherished mentors during this season of life. I invested a great deal of time and energy into campus ministry, where some lifelong, Christ-centered friendships were formed (not to mention some incredible ministry experiences). The missions conferences I attended played a major role in my decision to spend 11 years in the Philippines. I look back on these years fondly, with few regrets.
But there is one regret I want to speak of: I had a favorite preacher. I’ll explain why this was a problem.
I vividly remember hanging out with a group of my college buddies in my church’s gym (though I don’t recall exactly how or why we decided to meet there). One of the new guys brought a video of a preacher I’d never heard of (that new guy, by the way, is one of my best friends to this day–nearly 30 years later). We all watched/listened for nearly two hours. I was, for lack of a better word, mesmerized. This aged preacher radiated with holy zeal, and I had never heard anyone quite like him.
He became a superhero of sorts in my eyes. I read two or three of his books and listened to every sermon of his I could get my hands on (keep in mind that this was long before YouTube–about the best one could hope for was to find cassette or video tapes). My college buddies and I regularly talked about him, frequently repeated some of his one-liners, and even listened to sermons from other preachers that were somehow connected to him. I had already planned to become a minister of the gospel, and I dreamed of preaching just like (you guessed it) my hero.
Before I go further, let me say this: it probably wasn’t as bad as I’m making it sound. The before-mentioned preacher taught me a great deal about the holiness of God, and I gained some much-needed perspective on the shallowness of Western Christianity (especially in the Bible belt). I probably needed the kick in the pants that his sermons and writings abundantly provided. And I did listen to other pastors/preachers (including the pastor of my home church–which relates to an important point I’ll make later).
But I now regret focusing so much of my time and energy on the preaching/writing of one man. Time corrected this mistake, but I wish it had been corrected sooner in my life/ministry.
I’m saying this because I think I see this pattern being repeated in younger generations (if social media memes/quotes are any indication). I want to write a cautionary tale of sorts, so that young men and women may avoid some of my mistakes.
The Dangers of a Favorite Preacher
Here are a few of the dangers (based on first-hand experience) of having a favorite preacher:
You can lose theological balance.
This is, perhaps, the biggest danger in getting too caught up in one man’s ministry. There was a (brief) time period in which I elevated my favorite preacher’s sermons/books to a place where no man’s work belongs. To be clear, I knew there was only one Bible. But I had little room for those who disagreed with anything my favorite preacher said/wrote.
I’ll share a specific example for the sake of clarity. My favorite preacher was critical of theological education at times, and this made me a bit hesitant to pursue seminary studies. Fortunately, I did go–one of the best decisions I ever made. I’m not saying formal theological education is a requirement to do ministry. But I realized how much I needed it once I got started (and now I’m pursuing even more theological education). I could have missed this blessing if I had put too much emphasis on one man’s opinion.
You can lose your sense of grace and mercy.
That fiery, no-holds-barred sermon I mentioned had quite an impact on me. I fell in love with that style of preaching. I was challenged, and I wanted to challenge others to be “on fire” for the Lord. But I got a little confused, believing preaching/teaching wasn’t good unless it offended someone.
Make no mistake–the gospel is offensive (2nd Corinthians 2:15-16). But, as I tell my congregation, there’s difference between being offended by the gospel message and being offended by believers acting like jerks. I’m not sure I understood that too well in my younger years. I hope I have learned to patiently meet people wherever they are on their spiritual journey and demonstrate at least a tiny fraction of the grace God has shown towards me.
You can lose perspective.
My favorite preacher had something in common with me: he was a sinner in desperate need of God’s grace (I’m using past tense because he has gone to be with the Lord). He probably had silly arguments with his wife. I’m sure he struggled with areas of disobedience in his life until the day he died.
Such humanity is obvious when you read the Scriptures and see God working through deeply flawed people. But this isn’t so obvious when you see a man behind the pulpit–especially when you only see him onscreen (or hear him online). You may (like me) hear a few great sermons and put someone on a proverbial pedestal. The result is despair over an imaginary spiritual status that you will never reach.
Placing anyone on such a pedestal is a setup for disappointment–or something much worse. What if, God forbid, your favorite preacher gets caught up in a public scandal or goes off the rails theologically? Your walk with Christ should not so depend on an earthly leader that his failure shipwrecks your faith.
You can lose appreciation for your local pastor.
My wife and I visited my home town a few weeks ago. The former pastor of my home church came to visit me, my wife, and my son. He never preached any two-hour sermons. But he was my pastor for nearly two decades. He’s the man I spoke with when I sensed God was calling me to be a pastor. He was there when I was licensed and ordained into the gospel ministry. It’s no wonder he was eager to meet my son.
Such is the role a local pastor plays in the lives of his people–a role that can never be duplicated through podcasts, video sermons, or conferences. I believe I temporarily lost sight of this during my younger years, and I pray no reader will make the same mistake.
You can forget your own, God-ordained identity.
I’ve read quite a few books on preaching, and one piece of advice has stuck with me long after forgetting the title of the book it came from. It goes something like this: Don’t imitate another preacher–you are much more likely to imitate his weaknesses than his strengths if you do.
This advice holds true, even for those of you who are not pastors. God has called you to follow Him and use your gifts/talents. Be the man or woman God has called you to be. Do the ministry God has called and equipped you to do. Don’t follow someone else’s ministry so closely that you lose sight of your own identity and calling.
Final thoughts
The lives of faithful saints is a deep well of inspiration and wisdom. I encourage you to draw from it regularly through books, sermons, songs, etc. (I certainly do). Just be sure to keep things in their proper perspective. There’s ultimately one Hero worth following: the Author and Finisher of our Faith.
