The other night I groggily became aware that the warning siren was going off. In my early morning stupor, I remember thinking to myself, “I should probably get up and figure out what is headed our way.” But the bed was nice and warm, and I was pretty tired, so I did what any sane person would do in that situation: I went back to sleep. It couldn’t have been much later when I woke up again to the sound of thunder and heavy rain on the roof and the windows. Again, I remember thinking to myself, “I should probably get up and see if we have a tornado watch or warning.” But again, the bed was nice and warm, and I was pretty tired, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. Things must have turned out all right, or I wouldn’t be writing this article today.

Imagine if my house had been in the path of a strong tornado. That would have been a rather rude awakening! If I had been injured or killed because I didn’t move to a safer area in the basement, I would have no one to blame but myself. I had been awakened (sort of) by the sound of the warning siren, but I avoided it and went back to sleep. The people who decided to sound the alarm had done their job however unwelcome it was in the middle of the night.

Now imagine a different scenario: imagine the people who track such things had seen evidence of a powerful tornado on the way to my house, but for whatever reason they did not sound the alarm. If I had been injured or killed by such an event, the people who were supposed to give the warning would be very much to blame.

When I got up that morning, I was thinking about something I had read a couple of days earlier in the book of Ezekiel. God told the prophet Ezekiel that he was a watchman for the people. His job was to warn people that they would have to give an account to God for their actions. If he did not warn people to try to dissuade them from acting wickedly, then the wicked person would die for their sin and Ezekiel would be held “accountable for their blood.” (33:8) If, however, Ezekiel sounded the warning by telling that person to change their ways, and the person did not change their ways, then the wicked person would die for their sin but Ezekiel himself would be saved.

We live in a world that doesn’t like to be corrected about anything, let alone bringing up the word “sin.” It has always been that way and probably always will be that way. As you read through the biblical books written by the Old Testament prophets, you realize that each prophet was rejected for his message to the people because people don’t want to be confronted with the truth. Time and again the people attacked the messenger. This is not all that surprising. None of us like to admit we are wrong. Things usually didn’t end well for the prophets as they were constantly attacked and maligned for the kinds of things they were called to tell people. What made them prophets was that they spoke God’s message to people fearlessly whether they wanted to hear it or not. More often than not, the prophets paid for their message of accountability with their own blood.

Many people experience Christians as judgmental and pushy. I’ve seen up close and personal how Christians sometimes behave, and “judgmental” can be a valid criticism when a Christian is arrogant, rude, angry or dismissive. Acknowledging there is a wrong way to go about trying to correct someone, I also know that a Christian is supposed to do the job of the watchman. If someone is acting in a way that will lead to the wrong place, the Christian is supposed to warn that person. This may be as unwelcome as a siren blaring in the middle of the night, and it could be ignored with a simple shrug and a rolling over to go back to sleep. Whatever the reaction may be, the job of the watchman is to warn, and what people do with that is on them.

As a pastor, I sometimes need to confront someone. I try to do it in a respectful way. You will not find me on a busy corner shouting at people with a bullhorn that they are on their way to eternal fire. I want to speak into people’s lives with respect but also candor. I generally don’t try to confront people that I don’t know or who I don’t have a good relationship with. When a corrective word comes from a friend, it feels very different than when it comes from a total stranger. Also, I don’t like correcting people in front of others in a way that shames them. I invite them into a one-on-one conversation in a place where we will not be overheard. It’s a door-shut meeting, and when that conversation is over, I don’t share it with anyone. I give the person time to think it through on their own. I also know with a sense of humility that sometimes I can be the one at fault. Calling someone to accountability is usually an act of mercy with gentleness, not an angry diatribe shouting how wrong they are.

When it comes to warning people, do you confront people in love? Do you avoid it altogether? Do you lose your temper and say things you shouldn’t in a way you shouldn’t? For myself, I would rather be confronted and warned about something coming my way than not. When I confront others, I want to do it with an eye toward that person’s good and not their harm. Even if they ignore me, I’ll know I did my job.

Derek Russell is pastor of the Hillsboro Global Methodist Church. He loves Jesus, family, dogs and football.