There’s a quiet strength in a good leader—the kind that doesn’t chase applause but earns it by steady, sacred work. Paul saw that kind of shepherd in the making when he wrote to Timothy, a young pastor learning how to lead leaders.

In 1 Timothy 5:17–20, Paul pulls back the veil on something we often whisper about but rarely teach: how to honor pastors—and how to hold them accountable.

“Let the elders that rule well be counted worthy of double honor…”

Double honor. Not just handshakes and thank-you notes but fair wages and sincere respect. Especially for those who labor in the Word. That word—labor—paints a picture of calloused hands and weary shoulders. Preaching isn’t just public speaking. It’s heart surgery. It’s late-night prayers, early-morning study, and a soul that bleeds Scripture week after week.

And Paul doesn’t just suggest this honor—he anchors it in Scripture. From oxen in the Old Testament to laborers in the New, Paul reminds us that God’s economy has always valued faithful work. If the plowman is worthy of his pay, so is the preacher who tills the soil of hearts.

But then Paul turns the corner—and his tone shifts.

“Against an elder receive not an accusation, but before two or three witnesses…”

Here, Paul becomes both shield and sword. A shield against baseless slander—because in ministry, stones will be thrown. And a sword for integrity—because no leader is above correction.

That’s the sacred tension of church leadership. Pastors aren’t untouchable. But neither are they disposable.

“Them that sin rebuke before all, that others also may fear.”

Those are heavy words. Not because they’re harsh—but because they’re holy. Public leadership requires public accountability. Paul’s not out for humiliation. He’s out for holiness. He knows that sin in the pulpit breeds cynicism in the pew. But when correction is done rightly—with witnesses, with truth, with grace—it cultivates reverence in the body.

There’s something refreshingly clear about Paul’s counsel. He honors the preacher’s calling without idolizing the man. He safeguards the leader’s dignity without excusing sin.

So what do we do with this?

We pray. We support. We listen carefully—and we speak cautiously. We honor those who labor among us, and we speak truth when they fall.

Because the Church is at her best when her leaders aren’t celebrities—but servants. When honor flows freely, and accountability is not a threat but a promise.

A promise that says: This is a sacred trust. And we will steward it well.