Years ago, I came across a book written by a well-known Korean pastor titled Reforming the Church at the Risk of Life and Death. The church is an institution established under God’s providence, yet it is also a gathering of flawed human beings. Because of this, problems within the church are unavoidable. Still, the thought that the church could stray so far that reform requires risking one’s very life is deeply saddening.
Can we not reform a church unless someone stakes life and death on it? If that is true, then those without courage will never be able to set it right. Confronting wrongdoing—facing specific situations and specific people directly and honestly—is never easy. It demands a kind of courage that not everyone possesses.
This year, Protestants commemorate the 500th anniversary of Martin Luther’s Reformation. Martin Luther risked his life to defend the truth that salvation comes by faith alone. In portraits of Luther—his tightly pressed lips, strong jaw, and almost expressionless face—you can sense his resolve. Without what some might call reckless courage, he could never have stood before the leadership of the Catholic Church and held his ground. Yet the outcome of that courage reshaped the course of European and Western history.
The story of David and Goliath never loses its power. David, who hurled a stone of faith toward the nine-foot giant who defied God, was that battle easy? Certainly not. For David, it was a life-or-death moment. He picked up five smooth stones (1 Samuel 17:40). Why five? Some suggest he was preparing in case the first stone missed. Others look to 2 Samuel 21:15–22, where the author of the book mentions four other Philistine warriors of similar stature—Ishbi-Benob, Saph, Lahmi (the brother of Goliath), and another giant. Perhaps David was preparing himself for more than a single confrontation.
If so, facing Goliath was not a one-time event. Leadership rarely is. Leaders must repeatedly confront people and situations to set things right. Leadership is not work for the faint of heart.
My wife serves as a department manager. By the very nature of her role, she must often meet privately with employees to address problems and call for improvement. Looking someone in the eye and pointing out their shortcomings is never pleasant. Because she handles this responsibility so well, I once asked her, “Is it easy for you to confront someone to correct them?”
Her answer surprised me. “It’s never easy. It’s the part of my job I dislike the most. I do it simply because somebody must do it.”
Confronting others about their weaknesses is difficult. Leaders without courage cannot do it. Yet there is something that requires even greater courage and deeper honesty: confronting oneself.
Consider Jeroboam, the first king of the divided kingdom of Israel, who led God’s people into idolatry. When a prophet from Judah boldly proclaimed judgment against him (1 Kings 13:1–10), that prophet demonstrated undeniable courage. But strangely, when he encountered an older prophet in Bethel, he let down his guard. Though he had received a direct word from God, he accepted the older prophet’s claim of angelic revelation without careful discernment. He failed to question deeply whether he was making the right judgment.
Leaders must continually ask themselves a serious question: Am I judging rightly? Am I discerning clearly?
The courage to confront others is rare. But the courage to examine oneself—to face one’s own weaknesses, to admit error, to correct one’s own path—is rarer still.
Without that courage, leadership cannot grow.
True reform—whether in the church, in organizations, or in our own lives—begins not only with bold confrontation of others, but with honest confrontation of ourselves.