The great design and intention of the office of a Christian preacher (is) to restore the throne and dominion of God in the souls of men. (Cotton Mather)

To preach is to prove, and to prove is to bind the conscience. Every sermon sets forth the certainty of the things of Scripture and calls the people to believe and do what the Bible says. Or maybe I should say that every sermon should do this. We don’t need to ask whether the preacher will bind the conscience, but how he will bind it and what truth he will preach as binding on the conscience.

But that raises a myriad of questions: What is proof? What kind of certainty do we look for? What types of proofs should we use? Do emotional proofs count? Should the church be bound by every opinion the pastor holds? Is proof “beyond a reasonable doubt” or “beyond a shadow of a doubt?”

Before we wade far into the weeds, let me recommend a helpful (though unusual) book for this sort of thing. Douglas and Nate Wilson’s book The Rhetoric Companion is a kind of supplement for a full-on rhetoric course. They have included some incredibly helpful things. Their book will be the source for much of this article and the next.

So, what does it mean to “prove” something? As the Wilsons point out, we tend to adopt Enlightenment assumptions when answering that question. Many believe that “proof” requires absolute certainty, that you must establish a thing as true with mathematical precision. But of course, that doesn’t actually fit with real life. First, we believe many things on authority, not because we have seen indisputable scientific evidence for them. You believe many things even now that your parents or teachers taught you. And, of course, as believers, most of what we believe comes from the Bible. This isn’t limited to Christians, either. Most people believe what they were taught to believe – either by a college professor, an influential friend, a parent, or some guru that resonates with them.

Nor is that all. We tend to take people’s word for things. If you tell me that you were born in Schenectady, NY, I’ll be inclined to believe you without requiring a birth certificate. And if you tell me that it is snowing where you live, I won’t run to my weather app to verify that. I’ll take your word for it. We do that sort of thing often – give each other the benefit of the doubt.

Mathematical proofs and logical certainty do establish a truth claim. But that isn’t the only method. I believe what I see. I look in the mirror, see my skinny self, and think, “What a specimen.” I also believe my wife when she pats my belly and suggests I might want to lay off the cupcakes. If I hear music playing or my daughter’s voice, I believe my ears. In fact, I tend to believe all my faculties – even though I have been deceived.

My wife loves me, but I haven’t tested that theory in the lab. I have another way of knowing: “inward consciousness.” I have seen plenty of evidence, of course. I see the way she looks at me sometimes. I see her devotion to me, her loyalty and her faithfulness. And, as the song suggests, I can tell by how she kisses me.

Some truths are self-evident. I don’t need to compare the sun to a brightness scale to know it is bright. If the sun isn’t bright, brightness has no meaning. Some truth can be established by reasoning. The truth is established if the premises are true and the conclusion is valid. God cannot lie; the Bible is God’s Word; therefore, the Bible is true. Inductive arguments can also establish truth in a believable way. I’m quite sure the sun will rise. I don’t have mathematical certainty, but still, I am confident.

But the most common evidence for the truth of a claim – believe it or not – is authority. I would go so far as to say that most of what we believe is based on authority. We believe many things about ourselves because of what a trusted person has told us. People tell us about our personality, our strengths and weaknesses, our abilities. If we trust those people, we tend to believe them. Most of what we believe about history comes from someone else’s testimony – unless you were there. And we can say that almost universally, our religious views come from some authority – parents, trusted mentors, friends, pastors, and so forth. Let that sink in, pastor. What a great responsibility we have.

Having dragged this out sufficiently, let us give a concise definition of “proof.” A thing is proven true when evidence has been presented that obligates us to believe it. As the Wilsons argue,

To prove something is to “obligate belief.” The goal is to reveal something as true, and to do so in a way that resonates with the secondary witnesses of the consciences of your audience. (The Rhetoric Companion, 53-54)

Since preaching aims to bind the conscience, the preacher must know when it is bound, when it should (and shouldn’t) be bound, and how to bind it. Let’s break that down further.

When the Conscience is Bound

We have to factor “persuasion” into a discussion of proof. But persuasion isn’t proof. If we aren’t persuasive, we haven’t proven anything, but the fact that we have persuaded people doesn’t mean we have proven anything, either.

Confused? A baseball bat, a gun to the head, or (sometimes) a cute girl winking can be persuasive. But we wouldn’t call that proof. Some pastors have forceful personalities. Their people might be inclined to believe them simply because they dare not refuse. The compelling reason to believe cannot be some form of manipulation.

At the same time, persuasion can’t be the test of proof. In a perfect world, everyone would believe when the truth has been set forth. But we don’t live in a perfect world. Sometimes, we fail to establish the truth or give a compelling reason to believe. Sometimes, our audience is stubborn and suppresses the truth.

When the truth has been glimpsed, the conscience is bound. This gives shape to the preacher’s purpose. Pastoral authority comes from God’s Word. Our calling bids us to expose the truth so the hearer sees it in a compelling way. When they see the truth, their conscience is bound.

We should be cautious when we preach and not insist on immediate agreement. Paul commended the believers in Berea because they didn’t rush to embrace whatever he said. They resorted to a higher authority.

These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so. (Acts 17:11)

Even so, people sometimes need time to reach the right conclusion. Sometimes, the fault lies with the presentation: the conclusion was unclear or the evidence faulty. Other times, the fault lies with hearers who are stubborn and slow of heart to believe.

When the truth of God’s Word has been set forth plainly to the people, their duty should be clear. As the Holy Spirit works through the preached Word, we can expect the people to come to right conclusions and make appropriate adjustments. But we should also approach this great work with a great deal of humility.

Though the logic and the certainty of the truth of Scripture might be clear to us, we might not be clear in our presentation. We should be able to admit the shortcomings of our presentation. Thus, persuasiveness factors into proof. If the truth isn’t compelling, the conscience is not bound. But our definition of proof must account for human sin as well. Thus, John Frame defines proof as that which ought to persuade, if the person is being rational. [1] Given that sinful hearts tend to suppress inconvenient truths, we can expect to meet some resistance to our message. The Bible gives sound advice to the preacher in such cases.

And the servant of the Lord must not strive; but be gentle unto all men, apt to teach, patient, In meekness instructing those that oppose themselves; if God peradventure will give them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth; (2 Timothy 2:24-25)

When to Bind the Conscience (and when not to)

Hopefully, we recognize that we don’t have the authority to bind the conscience apart from God’s Word. So then, we must not attempt to bind the conscience unless the truth of Scripture is plain. The preacher should carefully distinguish – and I think the people should clearly know the difference – between preaching the passage and expressing an opinion about it. Did Jephthah sacrifice his daughter? I don’t know how else to interpret Judges 11:31. Nothing in the passage requires me to believe God was pleased with such a sacrifice, and nothing compels me to think that Jephthah did a righteous thing. The book of Judges demonstrates that Israel brought a lot of Egypt with them. These are the same people who abused to death a Levite’s concubine (Judges 19), who sanctioned the kidnapping and forced marriages of the daughters of Shiloh. These weren’t virtuous people. The idea that Jephthah offered his daughter as a burnt sacrifice doesn’t seem all that far-fetched to me. The idea that his vow would allow for some kind of symbolic “dedication” doesn’t seem to fit.

But my job as a pastor is to set forth the story as it is told in Scripture, to state what we must believe because of what the Bible says, and to apply the passage faithfully to the church. While I am not prohibited from giving an opinion (and I find that the church wants to know my opinion and why), I don’t present that as binding on the conscience. I believe there is space for other views (I changed my mind on this when I preached Judges 11).  

When the truth of Scripture is clear, and its application is evident, the preacher should bind the conscience with authority. That is our ministry, to compel men to believe. But the Bible includes more than a few questionable things – areas where the Bible itself doesn’t resolve a dispute. In such cases, the preacher has a responsibility not to bind the conscience. For the sake of unity, the church should agree that they won’t make an issue of such things and won’t badger the non-conformists or form camps around private interpretations. The unity of the church is binding. Teachings that are not clearly supported in Scripture are non-binding.

As I besought thee to abide still at Ephesus, when I went into Macedonia, that thou mightest charge some that they teach no other doctrine, Neither give heed to fables and endless genealogies, which minister questions, rather than godly edifying which is in faith: so do. Now the end of the commandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good conscience, and of faith unfeigned: (I Timothy 1:3-5)

If thou put the brethren in remembrance of these things, thou shalt be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine, whereunto thou hast attained. But refuse profane and old wives’ fables, and exercise thyself rather unto godliness. (I Timothy 4:6-7)

How to Bind the Conscience

Intimidation and manipulation have no place in Biblical preaching.

Don’t make me repeat myself. We aren’t called to impose our views on God’s people.

Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away. (I Peter 5:2-4)

The preacher’s job, then, is to unveil the truth in such a compelling way that it resonates with the hearer. We shouldn’t look at this as a conflict between reason and emotion. We are not Vulcans. God made us emotional creatures, and our affections significantly influence what we believe and know.

I point this out because Enlightenment thinking has persuaded us that reason should be king, that we should only feel what is reasonable for us to feel. God didn’t create us with these airtight compartments – the reason drawer and the emotion drawer. Is it reasonable to weep for the death of a believing loved one? That loved one has just entered glory, has heard “well done” from our Lord, has experienced the final redemption of their body, and everlasting joy shall be upon their head. Yet, when Jesus approached the tomb of Lazarus, He wept. He wept, knowing what He would do. He wept, knowing that the grave was about to lose. He wept, knowing that He had sovereign power over the grave. Was it reasonable for Jesus to weep? Yet, Jesus wept.

On the other hand, we see our culture drifting to the other extreme. Today, reason is subjected to emotion. We don’t “think” or “believe,” we “feel.” I feel that we shouldn’t think this way.

We preachers haven’t done ourselves any favors in this regard. The sad story at the end of the message, carefully crafted to bring people down the aisle, is a piece of work if there ever was one. Don’t make me repeat myself about manipulation. Feeling is a way of knowing. But reason isn’t the lone arbiter of truth.

Instead, Scripture instructs us in what we should feel and in what we should believe. Scripture is the authority over our emotions as well as our reason. The Bible presents unreasonable truths. The doctrine of the Trinity, the Hypostatic Union, God is not a man, but Jesus is God, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us. It is reasonable to believe this sort of “unreasonable” doctrine because God tells us it is so. It is Scriptural to weep for the death of a loved one because Jesus wept. The Bible normalizes this emotional response.

Binding the conscience then involves both reason and emotion.

For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad. Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men; but we are made manifest unto God; and I trust also are made manifest in your consciences. (2 Corinthians 5:10-11)

We must strive to bind the conscience lawfully, using Scriptural means, compelling the people to believe and to feel what they should.

The preacher’s aim is to convince the judgment, kindle the imagination, move the feelings, and give a powerful impulse to the will in the direction of truth’s requirement.” (Broadus, On the Preparation and Delivery of Sermons, p. 11)

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[1] John Frame, Apologetics to the Glory of God, p. 63