Why We Must Confront and Rebuke False Teachers With the Full Force of Scripture
An email landed in my inbox the other day. It was sincere, well-meaning, written by someone with an honest testimony who genuinely loves Christ and desires to see truth and love coexist in harmony. But the essence of the letter boiled down to a question I’ve heard too many times before:
Shouldn’t we be gentler when calling out false teachers? Shouldn’t we, as Christians, seek to engage with them in a spirit of understanding, rather than writing them off so harshly? Wouldn’t it be more Christlike to sit down, talk it out, and try to see things from their perspective?
No.
And let me tell you why.
Imagine, for a moment, that it’s the middle of the night. You wake up to the sound of shattering glass downstairs. Your children are asleep in their rooms. Your wife stirs beside you. You know instantly—someone has broken into your house. Do you grab a baseball bat, your shotgun, whatever you have, and prepare to defend your family? Or do you creep downstairs, hands raised, whispering, “Hey, maybe we can talk this out over coffee?”
Only a fool (like John Piper?) would entertain the latter. Only a man with no real love for his family would value the intruder’s feelings over the safety of his wife and children.
And yet, this is precisely the brand of idiocy that well-meaning Christians have swallowed when it comes to dealing with false teachers. They see them as misunderstood, confused, or simply misguided brothers and sisters in Christ, rather than what they actually are—spiritual home invaders hell-bent on corrupting the Church and devouring the sheep.
These aren’t good-hearted people who accidentally took a wrong turn on the theological road. These are wolves. Scripture doesn’t tapdance around the reality of false teachers. Paul calls them deceitful workmen, disguising themselves as apostles of Christ.
Jesus warns that they will come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves. And Peter? He lays it out very clear too—they promise them freedom, but they themselves are slaves of corruption.
Do you negotiate with a wolf that has its jaws around the throat of the lamb? Do you try to reason with a viper that has already bitten? Or do you do what every shepherd worth his salt would do—beat it back, expose its schemes, and drive it out before it can do any more harm?
The modern Church has become so obsessed with the idea of niceness that it has forgotten one of its primary duties is to guard the flock. When Paul warned the Ephesian elders that fierce wolves would arise, speaking twisted things to draw away the disciples after them, he didn’t tell them to schedule a friendly discussion with these wolves. He told them to be alert. To watch carefully. To not spare them.