Redeeming Discipline

"My brothers and sisters, if one of you should wander from the Truth and someone should bring that person back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of their way will save them from death and cover over a multitude of sins" (Jas. 5:19-20).

God has a plan to restore His children who wander from the Truth, and it doesn’t involve bribes or gimmicks or entrapment. It does, however, require us to act: “If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over” (Matt. 18:15). Simple, not necessarily easy, but simple—you take the time, you care enough, you go, you win your brother. No one likes confrontation, I mean, maybe if you’re some kind of self-righteous, judgmental weirdo you might relish the opportunity. But Christians actually striving to be like Christ dread the thought of having to broach the issue with a brother. The prospect alone is a source of tremendous grief, and their hearts are broken when they have to even attempt to restore one of their own.

When Paul said, “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted” (Gal. 6:1), he wasn’t talking about winning an argument as a power move. He wanted us to see that our beloved brother is ensnared—in need of rescue and reclamation. Winning a brother is about restoring him, leading him to repentance, so that he will be saved from death. One tragedy becomes two if I go to him not with tears but with a clenched fist—driven by pride, not love; seeking to settle a score in the name of "saving a soul." If I enjoy exposing sin, I’m disqualified from correcting it. Correction without compassion becomes cruelty.

"Take note of anyone who does not obey the instructions we have given in this letter. Do not associate with him, so that he may be ashamed. Yet do not regard him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother" (2 Thess. 3:14-15).

The erring soul is still family—still loved, still pursued. Admonitions are not for pleasure, but for the profit of another’s soul. “Faithful are the wounds of a friend” (Pro. 27:6) because they can be trusted. A man anxious to cut another down so he can feel taller is no friend at all. Neither is one who remains silent while his brother is hurdling toward the edge of a cliff. Silence in the face of sin isn’t kindness—it’s cowardice. Real love risks rejection to rescue a soul. “Have I become your enemy because I tell you the Truth?” (Gal. 4:16)—Paul knew the risks, but continued to speak the Truth in love (Eph. 4:15). Too much is at stake not to.

This is one of the great myths about corrective discipline, including church discipline—that it’s “unloving.” Which is usually code for, “It makes me uncomfortable, so I’d rather redefine love into a soft, non-confrontational mush that never risks offending anyone.” It’s possible they’ve never been taught, so when they hear “church discipline,” they immediately think of something akin to Amish shunning—a cold social boycott for breaking tradition (like using electricity or driving a car). Biblical discipline isn’t about excommunicating rule-breakers, it’s about turning a sinner from the error of his way. It’s about rescuing a lost soul.

Perhaps this myth comes in part due to misunderstanding Scriptural language. Notice the passages telling us how to treat such a one: Matt. 18; 2 Thess. 3:14-15; 1 Cor. 5:7, 9-13; Rom. 16, etc. They use words like "mark them," "let him be to you a Gentile and tax-collector," "purge out," "have no company," "put away," "not eat with," and "note him.” Thus some have wrongly thought that “do not eat with" means we should turn up our noses at the erring. God forbid! Remember, ”…count him not as an enemy, but admonish him as a brother" (2 Thess. 3:15).

Our association with the erring should be for spiritual reasons, not social. All of our conversations with them should consist of admonitions and exhortations. Every step of discipline should say: “We want you back.” Within this discussion, it is often asked well, what does it mean “with such a one do not even eat”? Just what it says. This is the extent to which we are to withdraw. The Lord made it unmistakable: the relationship must change. God is not telling us to be cold and snobbish. But to keep dining, laughing, and socializing as if nothing is wrong is to deny that sin is serious. We are trying to bring the erring to repentance. The command isn’t about pretending we’re better—it’s about refusing to pretend sin isn’t deadly. We are not to "keep company" (socialize) of any kind. Difficulty in obeying this command should not keep us from understanding it.

Sadly, there’s another assumption I’ve heard in the past: "It doesn’t work. It just drives people away." Strange—I don’t recall Jesus ever saying, “Try this if you think it’ll work.” The idea that obedience is optional because it might not “work” is the height of arrogance. Good thing the Lord has us to poll effectiveness rates for Him, huh? The fact that some walk away doesn’t mean discipline failed—it means Scripture was right about the human heart. That means following God’s plan doesn’t drive people away—sin does. Discipline just forces the heart to choose which master it really serves. Those who stay away are those who refuse to come home.

God’s Word works:

“For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it pierces even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow. It judges the thoughts and intentions of the heart” (Heb. 4:12).

Truth always has an effect — it just depends on the kind of heart it hits. For the worldly, Truth drives them away. If they love their sin more than their Savior, church discipline doesn’t ruin them; it simply reveals them. For the humble, the godly, the ones who still care about heaven — Truth draws them closer, cuts them deep, and changes them.

Our duty isn’t to manipulate results; it’s to obey the command. God’s not trying to pad church numbers—He’s purifying His bride: “…a little leaven works through the whole batch of dough…” (1 Cor. 5:6, 13). If folks start to argue, “It doesn’t work,” or “It drives people away,” or use the accusation disguised as a question, “Do you think it will work?”—they’re simply repackaging Satan’s question: “Did God really say…?” (Gen. 3:1). Discipline isn’t meant to drive people off—it’s meant to wake them up.

Sometimes shame is the only alarm loud enough to rattle a hardened heart. Love will do the hard thing to keep someone from going over the falls to destruction. So “if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses. If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector” (Matt. 18:16-17).

Whether or not we see quick results is irrelevant. Obedience isn’t judged by headcount; it’s measured by faithfulness. If church discipline “drives people away,” that says more about them than it does about God’s plan. Jesus doesn’t discipline to destroy — He disciplines to deliver. He wounds to heal, He exposes to restore, He rebukes to redeem. “Those whom I love I rebuke and discipline. So be earnest and repent” (Rev. 3:19). The church that obeys Him in this shows the world what love really looks like—not the cheap, sentimental kind, but the kind that leaves the ninety-nine to go after the one to save that soul from death.