When the Message Starts Strong… and Then Suddenly Swerves

I have a story about this past Sunday at my church. (Also, how ironic that 6 years ago, I was inspired to start my blog after hearing a sermon that went south... here we are again, folks.)

There’s something powerful about sitting in church, hands wrapped around your notebook or your coffee, feeling that quiet anticipation when a sermon title hits you in the chest before the pastor even starts.

“Come as you are, but change as you come.” I was locked in. That’s the kind of message that usually goes somewhere deep... somewhere honest.

And at first? He was absolutely on point. He talked about how the Word of God can irritate us sometimes. Not because it’s wrong but because it pokes at the places we’d rather keep untouched. And he wasn’t lying: when I’m going through something, the last thing my spirit wants to hear is “Just pray about it” or “Give it to God” wrapped in unsolicited spiritual advice. That part of the sermon felt grounded. Human.

True.

But then… it got weird.

It didn’t derail because he was speaking truth. I love when pastors talk about the hard, taboo, honest parts of scripture that most people tiptoe around. Where it started losing me was the delivery: the lack of care with the language and the tone.

At one point, he said, “Men shouldn’t act like females.” And instantly, the room shifted. Not because we’re sensitive, but because language matters. If you’re trying to pastor a room, you can’t start by alienating half of it. I was sitting next to my aunt, and we both turned to each other and sighed, because we knew where it was headed. There is a very specific tone that comes with that word when people use it to refer to women. It feels clinical, cold, and honestly? Dehumanizing. Whenever someone says “females,” I always want to respond with, “A female what? A female hippo? A female cow? A female bird?” Because if we’re talking about human beings, the word is women.

And funny enough, later on, he actually did say “women.” So clearly, the vocabulary exists. But then he followed it with, “Women shouldn’t act like men.” Interesting how women get to be “women”, but men were never called “males.” The imbalance in language says a lot, even when people don’t realize it. Funny how that works, but I digress.

And then… the sermon took another turn. He stepped into the topic of homosexuality. Not with nuance, not with tenderness, and definitely not with awareness of who was sitting in the room. We have gay and lesbian believers in the congregation. People who show up, worship, serve, and seek God just like everybody else. Discussing a sensitive topic without sensitivity isn’t bold.... it’s careless.

And yet, somewhere toward the end, he brought it back. He found his way to the original message: transformation, growth, the beauty of coming to God as you are, but not staying where you started. You could feel the room settle as he returned to the heart of the sermon.

But by then, the detour was hard to ignore.

I’m not debating doctrine here. I’m talking about shepherding. The responsibility to hold truth and tenderness in the same hand. Because if you’re going to preach on topics that have historically wounded people in the church, you better handle them with the care they deserve. Truth doesn’t give anyone permission to be careless.

That’s what struck me: There’s a difference between bold preaching and reckless preaching.

Bold preaching speaks truth, but it does so with compassion. Reckless preaching speaks truth, but it forgets about people.

Truth doesn’t give us permission to be sloppy. And compassion doesn’t give us permission to compromise truth. It’s never either/or... it’s always both/and.

Jesus held both perfectly. Some preachers are still learning to.

Jesus never watered down truth, but he also never used the truth to humiliate, categorize, or push people further from him. If your delivery leaves people feeling smaller, unseen, or unworthy, the message missed its mark... even if the scripture was correct.

And that’s what happened on Sunday: a message that had depth, truth, and potential… but swerved off-course through careless wording and unnecessary commentary. Not because the scripture was wrong, but because the stewardship of it was.

There’s bold truth, and then there’s careless delivery, and those two are not the same thing. It was a sermon that started in a place of conviction and honesty… and then veered into “Sir, please land the plane before you hurt someone.”

Church should be the safest place to tell the truth, not the most careless one.