Ayokunle was the most popular teacher in the young adults’ Sunday school at his church in Bodija, Ibadan. He was thirty-one, an accountant with a quick mind and a gift for making things memorable. He prepared on Saturday nights, usually with a notebook, a stack of sermon clips on his phone and a cup of Lipton tea gone cold beside him. His classes were full. People took photographs of his whiteboard.
That term he was teaching a series he called “Closing the Doors.” His argument was simple and confident. Every affliction in a believer’s life, he said, comes through an open door: a hidden sin, a negative confession, or fear. The central text was Job 3:25: “For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me.” Job was afraid, Ayokunle explained, and his fear opened the door to everything he lost. He backed it up with another verse from the same book: “they that plow iniquity, and sow wickedness, reap the same” (Job 4:8). He drew a door on the whiteboard and wrote FEAR across it in red marker.
At the end of the class, a young wife who had joined the church the year before waited until the room had emptied. Three months earlier her first baby had been stillborn at thirty-four weeks. She had been anxious throughout the pregnancy, because her sister had lost a child the same way. She stood by the whiteboard with her handbag pressed against her stomach and asked him quietly, “So it was my fear that killed my baby?”
Ayokunle did not know what to say. He mumbled something about God knowing all things, and she nodded and left. He saw her get into a keke at the gate and wipe her eyes.
That night he could not sleep. At about one in the morning he took his Bible to the dining table and did something he had never done in eleven years of teaching. He read the whole book of Job, from the first chapter to the last, in one sitting. By the time the call to prayer sounded from the mosque down the road, he was sitting with his head in his hands. He told me later, “I realised I had spent a month teaching young people the theology of Job’s friends. And God was angry with Job’s friends.”
His story is a window into a responsibility that every teacher of Scripture carries, whether in a pulpit, a Sunday school class, a house fellowship, a Bible college, a WhatsApp devotional or a mother’s lap at bedtime. When we teach, we place another person’s understanding of God within reach of our words. That is a sacred trust.
Words that land in someone else’s life
James, the brother of the Lord, wrote to believers who were perhaps a little too eager to be teachers:
My brethren, be not many masters, knowing that we shall receive the greater condemnation. For in many things we offend all. If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man, and able also to bridle the whole body.
The word translated masters means teachers. James is not forbidding anyone to teach. The church needs teachers, and the New Testament lists teaching among the gifts Christ gives His body. But he is warning against taking up the role lightly. “Knowing that we shall receive the greater condemnation.” The word refers to judgement, the assessment God will make. Those who teach will be held to a stricter account, because their words shape what other people believe about God.
Then James adds something humbling: “For in many things we offend all.” He includes himself. Every teacher stumbles. And the area James goes on to discuss for the rest of the chapter is the tongue, the very instrument a teacher uses most. If any man does not stumble in word, James says, he is a perfect man. None of us is. So the teacher must handle his words with particular care, aware that he is capable of being wrong.
Gifted people should hear this as a call to seriousness. A surgeon who knows the weight of his work becomes careful. He washes his hands, checks the notes, counts the instruments. Teachers of God’s Word need the same kind of care, because our words, too, go deep into people.
Ayokunle had never meant to harm anyone. He was sincere, enthusiastic and well liked. But sincerity did not protect a grieving mother from what he had said. His words landed in her life and lodged there.
A workman who handles the word rightly
Paul wrote to Timothy, a young pastor in Ephesus, with instructions on how to handle the Scriptures:
Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.
“Study to shew thyself approved unto God.” The word translated study means to be diligent, to make every effort, to work hard at something. It includes reading and research, but it is wider than that. It describes a whole posture of care. And notice the audience. The teacher seeks to be approved unto God. Not the congregation. Not the people who photograph the whiteboard. A teacher who aims mainly at the applause of his listeners will gradually begin to say what they want to hear.
“A workman that needeth not to be ashamed.” Paul uses ordinary working language. Teaching the Bible is skilled labour, like carpentry or tailoring. A good workman takes pride in doing the job properly, because a shoddy job will eventually show.
“Rightly dividing the word of truth.” The Greek word means to cut straight. It was used of a road builder cutting a straight path, or a craftsman cutting along a line. Think of a tailor at Gbagi market cutting cloth for an agbada. If the cut is wrong, the garment will never sit properly, however beautiful the embroidery. A teacher cuts the word straight when he handles it according to its true meaning, following its grain instead of forcing it into the shape of his own ideas.
What does that diligence look like in practice? At the very least, it means reading a verse in its context: the surrounding paragraph, the chapter, and often the whole book. It means asking who is speaking, to whom, and why. It means noticing what kind of writing you are reading: a law, a song, a proverb, a prophecy, a letter, a narrative. It means checking how the rest of Scripture speaks about the same subject. And it means praying, because understanding the Word is finally the work of the Holy Spirit, who inspired it.
PunchlineNone of that is beyond an ordinary believer. Ayokunle had all the tools he needed. What he lacked was the habit of using them.
When you teach, you place another person’s understanding of God within reach of your words. Handle the Word as one who will give account to its Author.
Who is speaking in the text?
Here is what Ayokunle discovered that night at the dining table. The book of Job opens by telling us exactly what kind of man Job was: “that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil” (Job 1:1). God Himself says the same to Satan: “Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth?” (Job 1:8). Then the reader is allowed to see what Job never saw: a scene in heaven, in which Satan is permitted to test Job. The book tells us, before a single disaster strikes, that Job’s suffering did not come because he was wicked.
Then Job’s three friends arrive. At first they do well. They sit with him on the ground for seven days in silence, “for they saw that his grief was very great” (Job 2:13). But then they begin to speak, and their speeches go on for most of the book. Eliphaz opens with this: “Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished, being innocent? or where were the righteous cut off?” (Job 4:7). His theology is neat. Good people do not suffer. If you are suffering, you must have done something to cause it. The verse Ayokunle had quoted as Scripture’s verdict was from that same speech.
Now listen to how the book ends:
And it was so , that after the LORD had spoken these words unto Job, the LORD said to Eliphaz the Temanite, My wrath is kindled against thee, and against thy two friends: for ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath . Therefore take unto you now seven bullocks and seven rams, and go to my servant Job, and offer up for yourselves a burnt offering; and my servant Job shall pray for you: for him will I accept: lest I deal with you after your folly, in that ye have not spoken of me the thing which is right, like my servant Job.
“Ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right.” God says it twice. The friends’ speeches are accurately recorded in Scripture, but Scripture records them in order to show that they were wrong. Their words are inspired as a record of what they said. They are not God’s verdict on why Job suffered.
And Job 3:25, the verse at the centre of Ayokunle’s series? It comes from a chapter in which Job curses the day he was born. It is the raw cry of a man in agony, looking back on a life in which he had always been anxious for his children (Job 1:5). It is honest and precious, and it belongs in Scripture. But it was never intended as a law explaining why sufferers suffer. The opening chapters have already told us why Job suffered, and fear is not the reason given.
Scripture has a great deal to say about faith, about the power of the words we speak, and about the call to “fear not” that runs from Genesis to Revelation. Those truths deserve to be taught boldly. The problem was that Ayokunle had taken a single verse from a man’s lament and turned it into a rule that indicted every sufferer. Jesus Himself refused that kind of formula. When His disciples asked whether a man had been born blind because of his own sin or his parents’, He answered, “Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him” (John 9:3). When people spoke of eighteen who died when a tower fell in Siloam, He asked, “think ye that they were sinners above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem? I tell you, Nay” (Luke 13:4-5).
The first question of faithful interpretation is often simply this: who is speaking, and does the Bible approve of what he says?
Giving the sense
After the exiles returned from Babylon and the wall of Jerusalem was rebuilt, the people gathered in the square before the Water Gate and asked Ezra to bring out the book of the law. Ezra read from early morning until midday, and a group of Levites moved among the people to help them understand:
So they read in the book in the law of God distinctly, and gave the sense, and caused them to understand the reading.
That verse is a short description of the teacher’s task. “They read in the book in the law of God distinctly.” The text came first, read clearly and publicly. “And gave the sense.” They explained what it meant. “And caused them to understand the reading.” Their goal was understanding, so that ordinary people could grasp the Word for themselves.
The result was remarkable. The people wept when they heard the law, and then, as they understood it further, they rejoiced, “because they had understood the words that were declared unto them” (Nehemiah 8:12). Faithful teaching produced both conviction and joy.
Ezra’s personal habits explain why his teaching carried such weight. “For Ezra had prepared his heart to seek the law of the LORD, and to do it, and to teach in Israel statutes and judgments” (Ezra 7:10). Notice the order: seek, do, teach. Ezra studied the Word, then obeyed it, and only then taught it. Teaching that skips the first two stages becomes either shallow or hypocritical.
For anyone who teaches regularly, this suggests a rhythm of preparation. Begin early enough to let the passage sit with you. Read it in context several times before you consult anyone else’s notes. Write down what it says before you decide what it means. Ask how it points to Christ and what it meant to its first hearers. Then use good resources: a reliable commentary, a concordance, the help of more experienced teachers. Ask how the passage applies to your own life first. And then, only then, ask how to help others understand it.
A word about borrowed material. Ayokunle prepared largely from clips of other preachers, and there is nothing wrong with learning from others. God has given teachers to the church, and many of us have been richly fed by men and women we have never met. But a clip is not a text. A preacher’s ninety-second summary of a passage may be correct, or it may be a slogan that sounds right and has never been tested. If you use someone else’s insight, check it against the passage yourself before you repeat it, and be honest about where it came from. You will answer for what you teach, even when the idea first came from someone else.
Clear statements and open questions
NuggetOne of the most important habits a teacher can develop is the humility to distinguish between what Scripture plainly says and what is an interpretation that remains open to examination.
Moses told Israel, “The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever” (Deuteronomy 29:29). Some things God has revealed clearly. Others He has not. Peter admitted that in Paul’s letters there are “some things hard to be understood” (2 Peter 3:16). And Paul himself said, “now I know in part” (1 Corinthians 13:12).
So a faithful teacher learns to speak at different levels of confidence. Some things the Bible says with unmistakable clarity: that God is one, that Jesus Christ is Lord, that He died for our sins and rose again, that salvation is by grace through faith, that believers are called to love one another. Teach those things with full conviction. Do not hedge where God has spoken plainly.
Other matters are interpretations held by many faithful believers but not by all: the exact sequence of end-time events, the meaning of certain prophetic symbols, some questions of church order. On matters like these, a teacher can say, “This is how I understand the passage, and here is why. Other sincere believers read it differently, and here is their reasoning.” That kind of honesty is a strength, and it trains listeners to think.
And then there are the teacher’s own applications and illustrations, which may be helpful but carry no authority beyond their usefulness. Ayokunle’s open-door scheme was one of these. It had some biblical elements. But he had presented a personal system with the authority of “thus saith the Lord,” and his listeners had no way of knowing the difference.
Simple phrases can make the distinction clear. “The text says.” “I understand this to mean.” “One possible application is.” “Faithful Christians have disagreed on this.” Phrases like these help your hearers trust you when you do speak with full confidence.
Teachable teachers
The book of Acts gives us a beautiful example of a gifted teacher who needed correction:
And a certain Jew named Apollos, born at Alexandria, an eloquent man, and mighty in the scriptures, came to Ephesus. This man was instructed in the way of the Lord; and being fervent in the spirit, he spake and taught diligently the things of the Lord, knowing only the baptism of John. And he began to speak boldly in the synagogue: whom when Aquila and Priscilla had heard, they took him unto them , and expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly.
Apollos was impressive. He was “an eloquent man, and mighty in the scriptures.” He was “fervent in the spirit.” He “taught diligently.” And yet his understanding was incomplete; he knew “only the baptism of John.” Eloquence, zeal and knowledge of the Old Testament had not filled every gap.
Notice how Priscilla and Aquila handled the situation. They did not denounce him from the floor of the synagogue. “They took him unto them,” probably into their home, “and expounded unto him the way of God more perfectly.” The correction was private, respectful and thorough. And notice how Apollos responded. He received it. The very next verses tell us that he went on to Achaia and “helped them much which had believed through grace,” powerfully demonstrating from the Scriptures that Jesus was the Christ (Acts 18:27-28). His willingness to be taught made him more useful than ever.
Every teacher needs a Priscilla and Aquila. Every teacher needs to be an Apollos who can receive them. If you teach, invite people to examine what you say. The Bereans were commended because they “searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so” (Acts 17:11), even when the teacher was the apostle Paul. A teacher who is offended by questions has forgotten that he, too, is a student.
A pattern as well as a message
Paul’s instructions to Titus remind us that a teacher’s life is part of his teaching:
In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works: in doctrine shewing uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity, Sound speech, that cannot be condemned; that he that is of the contrary part may be ashamed, having no evil thing to say of you.
“In all things shewing thyself a pattern of good works.” Before Paul mentions what Titus says, he mentions how Titus lives. Then he turns to the teaching itself: “in doctrine shewing uncorruptness, gravity, sincerity.” Uncorruptness means integrity, teaching that has not been bent by self-interest. Gravity means seriousness, a proper weight in handling holy things. Sincerity means genuineness. And “sound speech, that cannot be condemned,” words that are healthy and fair, so that even opponents have nothing legitimate to say against them.
This rules out several temptations that face teachers. It rules out teaching for personal advantage: twisting the text to raise money, gain followers or win an argument. Paul elsewhere describes faithful ministers as those who refuse to be found “handling the word of God deceitfully” (2 Corinthians 4:2). It rules out using the pulpit or the classroom to settle personal scores. And it rules out a manner of teaching that crushes or manipulates people, especially the vulnerable.
The prophet Malachi described the ideal priest in Israel, the teacher of God’s people:
The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in his lips: he walked with me in peace and equity, and did turn many away from iniquity. For the priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth: for he is the messenger of the LORD of hosts.
“The law of truth was in his mouth, and iniquity was not found in his lips.” His teaching was true and his life was upright. “He walked with me in peace and equity.” And the fruit was that he “did turn many away from iniquity.” Then Malachi adds, “the priest’s lips should keep knowledge, and they should seek the law at his mouth.” People came to him expecting to hear the truth. That expectation is a weight every teacher carries. Malachi was writing because the priests of his day had failed it.
Paul summed up the whole matter for Timothy: “Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself, and them that hear thee” (1 Timothy 4:16). The teacher watches both his life and his teaching, because both affect those who listen.
Remembering who is in the room
Faithful teaching attends to the text, and it attends to the people. Before you teach, it is worth asking: who will hear this? In any congregation there are people who are grieving, people struggling with illness, people in difficult marriages, people who have suffered abuse, people carrying shame. A truth spoken without awareness of them can wound where it was meant to heal.
Hard truths still need to be spoken. Speak them as a shepherd. When you teach about suffering, remember the woman whose baby died. When you teach about marriage, remember the person who is in danger at home, and make it clear that Scripture never requires anyone to remain in a place of abuse. When you teach about healing, remember the faithful believer who has prayed for years and is still sick. When you teach about giving, remember the family that cannot pay school fees.
Remember, too, that teaching is no longer confined to rooms. A devotional forwarded to a family WhatsApp group, a short video posted on a Sunday afternoon, a voice note to a struggling friend: each of these places someone’s understanding of God within reach of your words. Before you forward a message that explains why a disaster happened or what a verse “really means,” ask whether you have read the passage yourself. Many harmful ideas travel faster through kind people pressing “forward” than through any false teacher.
And when you get it wrong, as every teacher eventually will, correct it as publicly as you taught it. James has already told us that “in many things we offend all.” Mistakes are certain. Owning them is a choice, and it is one of the most powerful lessons a teacher ever gives.
The following Sunday Ayokunle stood in front of the young adults’ class and wiped the whiteboard clean. Then he told them what he had done. He explained that he had built a month of teaching on verses taken out of context, that he had taught the theology of Job’s friends as if it were God’s, and that God had said of those friends, “ye have not spoken of me the thing that is right.” He read Job 1:1 and Job 42:7 aloud. He told them that faith and the words we speak truly matter, and that he would teach on those themes again, carefully. But he wanted them to know that suffering is not proof of a believer’s sin or fear.
That afternoon he and his wife visited the young woman and her husband at home. He apologised for what he had said and for what he had failed to say. Then he read to her from the end of Job, where God speaks out of the whirlwind. He never explains Himself to Job, and He never abandons him either. They prayed together. Her husband told Ayokunle as he left that it was the first time anyone at church had spoken to his wife about their baby without trying to give her a reason.
PunchlineAyokunle still teaches. His classes are a little smaller now, because he spends more time on context and less on memorable slogans. But he prepares differently. He reads the whole book. He asks who is speaking. And before every class he prays a simple prayer: “Lord, let me not speak of You the thing that is not right.”
Teaching Companion
For Reflection
- Where do you teach others, formally or informally? Have you thought of it as a responsibility you will give account for?
- When you read a verse, how often do you ask who is speaking and whether Scripture approves of what is said?
- Can you think of a teaching you once received that collapsed when you read the passage in context? What did that teach you?
- How do you distinguish, when you teach, between what Scripture clearly says and what is your own interpretation?
- Who are the Priscillas and Aquilas in your life, and how readily do you receive their correction?
This Week
Choose one passage you have taught or would like to teach. This week, read the entire book it comes from in no more than two or three sittings. Then write down three things: what the passage plainly says, what it meant to its first hearers, and which parts of your previous understanding you now hold as interpretation rather than as the text itself. Share your notes with a mature believer and ask them to question you honestly.
A Prayer
Father, thank You for the privilege of handling Your Word. Forgive me for the times I have spoken carelessly about You, taught my own ideas with Your authority, or forgotten the people who were listening. Make me a workman that needs not be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth. Give me the diligence to study, the humility to say “I may be wrong,” the courage to speak plainly where You have spoken plainly, and the grace to receive correction. Let my life be a pattern of what I teach. Let me never speak of You the thing that is not right. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Truth received brings freedom. Truth believed establishes the heart.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version. · Illustrations using first names only are composites unless stated otherwise.