There’s a dangerous trend happening in pulpits today. And because I’m new to the pulpit myself, I watch a lot of preachers—some who inspire me and others who make me step back and shake my head. Too often I hear voices that thunder more about who’s “in” and who’s “out” than they do about Jesus Christ. And here’s the problem: deciding who goes to heaven or hell is not man’s call. It never was. It never will be.
Jesus was clear in John 5:22, “For the Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son.” That means I don’t get to sit in God’s chair. Neither does any preacher. Neither does any church council or religious movement.
Paul reminded the Romans of this same truth when he wrote in Romans 14:4, “Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand.” In other words, you’re not the judge, I’m not the judge—Christ is the Judge.
But pride has a way of sneaking into pulpits. Pride loves the sound of its own voice. Pride wants to be the authority rather than point to the authority. Pride convinces a preacher that his version of the gospel is the only one that saves, even if Scripture says otherwise.
And pride in the pulpit is not new. Jesus confronted the Pharisees in Matthew 23:4, saying, “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to move them with their finger.” Later in verse 13 He said, “But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you shut the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. For you neither enter yourselves nor allow those who would enter to go in.” That’s what happens when pride climbs into the pulpit: men end up building walls where Christ tore them down.
Let’s be crystal clear. Salvation is not defined by a man’s opinion, a church’s tradition, or a preacher’s passion. Salvation is defined by God. Paul told the Ephesians in Ephesians 2:8–9, “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”
Notice that last line—so that no one may boast. Salvation removes bragging rights. It humbles us all. The ground at the foot of the cross is level.
The thief hanging beside Jesus on the cross looked at Him and said in Luke 23:42, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And Jesus answered in verse 43, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” No résumé. No certificate. No denominational stamp of approval. Just faith in the Savior.
When a preacher crosses the line from proclaiming Christ to proclaiming condemnation, he’s misusing the pulpit. The pulpit is not a platform for personal pride—it’s a place to lift up the name of Jesus. Paul made that clear in 1 Corinthians 2:2, “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.”
The pulpit should sound like hope, truth, conviction, and grace—not arrogance, division, or the rattling of a gavel that only Christ is worthy to hold.
Does that mean we never call out false teaching? Absolutely not. Jude told us in Jude 3, “Contend for the faith that was once for all delivered to the saints.”
Paul charged Timothy in 2 Timothy 4:2, “Preach the word; be ready in season and out of season; reprove, rebuke, and exhort, with complete patience and teaching.”
But here’s the difference: we confront error with the Word of God, not with our own verdicts of heaven and hell. Jesus warned in Matthew 7:13–14, “Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” Our role is to warn of the broad road, but not to declare who’s already beyond saving. Only God sees the heart. Only God renders the eternal sentence.
The pulpit should be a place of trembling humility. James gave a sobering warning in James 3:1, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.” That ought to scare the pride right out of us.
Humility doesn’t mean silence—it means remembering the pulpit is about God’s Word, not mine. It means pointing people to the One who saves, not to myself. It means saying with Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:1, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ.”
At the end of the day, it ain’t man’s call who goes to heaven or hell. It never was. Our job is to proclaim Jesus, to stand firm in the Word, to warn against sin, and to invite people into the grace of God through Christ. Anything else—any prideful boast, any sweeping condemnation, any denominational arrogance—is just noise.
Jesus is the Judge. Jesus is the Savior. And the pulpit must never forget it