In many church environments, believers are confronted with a false dilemma: either stay and smile—remaining silent for the sake of peace—or leave altogether. But to stay and suppress the truth is not a neutral act. It damages the conscience and quenches the Spirit. This is not mere discomfort; it is a deep dishonesty that hollows out the Christian life, reducing it to a performance of peace while truth is suffocated. Over time, this practice does not simply maintain unity—it numbs and even sears the voice of conscience. The cost is highest for new believers, who, observing this pattern, come to believe that silence is the price of fellowship. In reality, such silence is a counterfeit peace that shuts down spiritual growth and leaves the church with nothing but superficiality.
This is not a minor issue. When discernment is suppressed, the church trades the living fellowship of the Spirit for a fragile truce built on dishonesty. The result is a community where the conscience is dulled, the Spirit is grieved, and the testimony of Christ is obscured. If this error is accepted, what is lost is not merely a preference for “openness,” but the very possibility of a church that walks in truth and the cleansing power of Christ’s blood. The inheritance of a clear conscience, the joy of sonship, and the reality of justification are all put at risk when truth is silenced for the sake of outward harmony.
For those who dare to speak, the enemy has a well-worn arsenal: accusations of intolerance, pride, divisiveness, lack of love, even rebellion. These charges are not random; they are calculated to silence those who love the truth. The sensitive conscience—so necessary for spiritual health—becomes a target. The believer, aware of his own capacity for pride and error, is tempted to internalize these accusations, to doubt his motives, and ultimately to fall silent. The enemy’s strategy is clear: use the believer’s own awareness of sin to stifle the testimony of Christ and the ministry of the word.
Yet God, in His sovereignty, allows these conflicts, accusations, and reproaches. He is not the author of confusion, but He uses these very pressures to purify His people. The process is not pleasant, but it is necessary. Through conflict and repentance, God softens our hardened exteriors and strengthens our inward convictions. He brings us to clarity—not by removing the accusations, but by teaching us to run to our refuge in Christ.
Here is the liberating truth: we are sinners, and sometimes the accusations against us are not entirely false. But our standing before God is not based on our ability to be agreeable or inoffensive. It is grounded in the atoning blood of Christ. As Luther said, “Let your sins be strong, but let your faith in the Lamb of God be stronger.” We do not maintain fellowship with God by denying our flaws, but by exercising faith in the blood that has reconciled us and established peace. Even when we are as obnoxious as the enemy claims, the blood speaks a better word. This is the ground of our confidence and the source of a conscience that is cleansed and bold.
God’s covering remains. He still desires to use us, not in spite of conflict and accusation, but through them. He uses these things for our good, to drive us deeper into Christ and to establish us in the truth. The enemy seeks to silence lovers of truth, but God uses the very process of accusation and repentance to purify and strengthen His people.
Addressing the Accusations
It is essential to confront these accusations—not for the sake of argument, but for the sake of those who have been silenced and wounded by them. In the following section, we will examine the scriptural answers to the most common objections to discernment:
- Is it Biblical?
- Is it divisive?
- Is it rebellion?
- Is it unloving?
- Is it negative?
- By what standard do we measure?
- What about real miracles?
Discernment is not a threat to the church—it is a Spirit-led necessity for maintaining truth and holiness. To reject it is to invite spiritual harm and to forfeit the very inheritance Christ has secured for us. The church must not be a place where truth is sacrificed for the appearance of unity. Rather, it must be a place where the blood of Christ gives us boldness to speak, to discern, and to walk in the light. Anything less is not merely a secondary error—it is a denial of the finished work and a forfeiture of our sonship and inheritance.
