Before I show you this clip of a very popular young preacher, I want to make a few comments.
First, I’m genuinely grateful I didn’t start preaching until I was 33. By then, I’d finished Bible college, read widely, taught Scripture in an academic setting, and—maybe most importantly—lived a bit. I didn’t have the added burden of being an Instagram content creator, constantly mining my soul for bite-sized wisdom. That pressure, I think, would’ve shortcut my development in ways I can’t fully measure.
Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not against young preachers. I advocate for several of them. They’re passionate, articulate, and when they stay in their lane, they can be absolutely fantastic. But they do have limited range—because range takes time. It’s not just about gifting; it’s about scars, about years, about quiet rooms no one sees.
Young leaders today are also deeply shaped—maybe more than they realize—by their context. By platform culture. By the pressure to be winsome, engaging, and instantly relevant. It’s not malicious. It’s just the air they breathe.
And I think that’s what’s happening here.
In this clip, the preacher is trying to ride the energy of the crowd. He’s doing what I’d call sermon judo—using the momentum in the room to carry the moment forward. I get it. We’ve all done it. But here’s the thing:
When someone asks you a serious question—or when you’re speaking into a topic where Scripture offers fairly specific insights—it’s vital to slow down, reset your posture, and represent those truths faithfully.
This isn’t about tone-policing. It’s about theological weight.
Because charisma might win the moment—but truth carries the day.
Here’s the clip and my commentary below: