The Courage to Look Like the Bad Guy

or How shielding people from consequences can deepen their rebellion.

One of the most difficult forms of discipline to practice is choosing not to shield someone from the consequences of their actions. We’ve all made terrible decisions and suffered through the fallout of our foolishness. Consequently, when we aren’t able to keep someone from doing something stupid, we’re still tempted to shield them from the consequences.

There are times when that is the right thing to do. Think of a child running into the street. You don’t say, “Well, let him learn his lesson.” That’s the sort of lesson you might never come back from. You shield him from the consequences. But one way to shield a child from foolish decisions is not to shield him from the consequences of less serious decisions.

For example, my Uncle Jerry once let me touch an electric fence. It definitely hurt and even left a tiny mark on my finger. But it certainly didn’t kill me, and it taught me to be more careful. Had he shielded me from that lesson, I might have learned it somewhere else with far more dire consequences. It also gave him a pretty big laugh.

There are cases in which older children are told they can no longer live under their parents’ roof because of repeated disobedience. “If you won’t live by the house rules, then you can’t live here.” The parents are essentially saying, “I’m not going to bankroll a life of disobedience, and I’m not going to shield you from the consequences of your actions. I’m going to let you find out what happens when you don’t respect the authority of this household or show basic appreciation.” They are teaching their children by allowing them to suffer the consequences.

I don’t remember exactly what happened, but one night, when I was about sixteen, I was acting the fool. I think I’d even had quite a bit of alcohol. I came home and got into an argument with my dad. He finally said, “Fine,” and locked the door. I had to sleep in the stairwell that night. It was a good lesson. My dad drew a line in the sand and maintained it, and that helped me grow up.

If you shield people from consequences over and over again, they will continue to act foolishly. It can actually embolden them to become more reckless. This is true of children, employees, and church members. Sometimes one of the most unloving things ever done to someone is shielding him from the consequences of his actions.

There are truly abusive parents. But I’ve also known many parents who regret their lack of sternness when their children were younger. They wish they had been stricter, at least in certain areas.

There are absolutely times to overlook things. You certainly don’t want to make things bigger than they are, and there’s a big difference between simple mistakes and deliberate foolishness. But there comes a point when looking the other way and shielding people from consequences allows them to continue down a path toward all sorts of terrible things. Your abdication will be part of that story. We must cultivate a gracious attitude that loves people enough to disappoint them, even when that means letting them take a hard landing without cushioning the fall.

This also helps us understand excommunication. Removing someone from the Lord’s Table is part of delivering them over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh. In other words, the church is saying, “You want to live recklessly, at odds with your profession of faith? We’re not going to shield you from the consequences by allowing you to continue enjoying the benefits of the communion of saints as though nothing has changed.”

The hope is that, as they experience the severe consequences of life outside the church, God will use that discipline to lead them to repentance.

Whether it’s letting your child repeat a grade, letting someone get fired from a job, or excommunicating an unrepentant church member, you must have the courage to look like the bad guy and not look the other way. You must play the long game. You don't because you love them and know this is part of how God works out His good will.

Painting: Augustus Edward Mulready