Being a pastor means you're a truth teller. That means you're

The words of John MacArthur—“Being a pastor means you're a truth teller. That means you're truth teller when it comes to the Bible. That means you protect your people from deception that comes from the world. That's part of being a shepherd.”—resound with the gravity of ancient duty. In them, he casts the image of the pastor not as a mere speaker of words, but as a guardian of souls, entrusted with the sacred responsibility of truth. The pastor’s tongue is not meant for flattery, nor his hands for ease, but his life is to be poured out in vigilance, guarding the flock from wolves that prowl with lies and deceit.

The origin of such a vision comes from the Scriptures themselves. The prophets of Israel, like Jeremiah and Ezekiel, thundered against false shepherds who fattened themselves while the people languished in error. Jesus Himself declared, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” To shepherd is not merely to comfort, but to protect, to guide, and to correct. MacArthur echoes this ancient charge, reminding pastors that they are truth tellers, and truth is often a sword that cuts against the deceptions of the age.

History bears witness to the power of this calling. Consider Martin Luther, who stood before princes and prelates at the Diet of Worms. Accusations raged, and pressure mounted for him to recant. Yet he declared boldly, “Here I stand, I can do no other.” He spoke not with the softness of compromise but with the fire of conviction. He believed that to be a shepherd was to shield the people from falsehood, even if it meant defying emperors. Like a shepherd facing wolves, he chose danger for himself over harm to his flock.

But this calling is not without cost. The truth teller often walks a lonely road. The world resists the voice that unmasks its illusions. A pastor who speaks the truth of Scripture may be rejected by men, but he stands approved before God. This is the paradox of the shepherd’s life: he lives for the flock, yet often suffers because of the very truth that protects them. Still, his duty is unwavering, for he knows that deception spreads quickly, and only the firm hand of truth can guard against it.

The deceptions of the world come in many forms: the promise of pleasure without consequence, the illusion of power without accountability, the lie that man can live apart from God and still find peace. Against these wolves, the pastor must raise his voice, not as an accuser, but as a guide who calls the sheep back to safety. To be silent is to betray; to speak is to love. For love without truth is sentiment, but truth spoken in love is salvation.

The lesson is clear: not only pastors, but all who lead—even parents, teachers, and mentors—are called to be truth tellers. Each of us has those entrusted to our care, and each of us faces the temptation to remain silent in the face of falsehood. Yet silence leaves the vulnerable unguarded, while truth, though difficult, brings freedom. To shepherd others is to bear the weight of honesty, even when it costs comfort.

Therefore, take these actions: Speak truth even when it trembles on your lips. Ground yourself in wisdom so your guidance does not falter. Protect those under your influence from deception, whether it comes from the world, from pride, or from fear. And above all, remember that to be a shepherd is not to rule with force, but to guard with love. For as MacArthur teaches, a pastor—and by extension, all who lead—is first and foremost a truth teller, and in this sacred duty lies both the burden and the glory of leadership.