In many churches today—especially among those shaped by the Charismatic tradition—the word prophetic has come to mean something deeply personal. A word of knowledge. A sense from the Spirit. A vision. Something that encourages, strengthens, or confirms what God is doing in someone’s life. These things matter. And they’ve brought healing and hope to many who needed a word in season. Yet, there is another kind of message.

We’ve largely lost sight of another form of the prophetic. Not the soft voice whispered in a corner, but the bold voice raised in the public square. The prophet not only hears from God—he speaks for Him. Not to one person, but to many. Not in private, but in the open. And not only to comfort, but often to confront.

This kind of voice—what we might call prophetic preaching—is not as apparent in today’s churches. It’s not that the Spirit has stopped speaking. It’s that we’ve narrowed our expectation of what He will say.

When Jeremiah was called, God told him, “I have put My words in your mouth… to pluck up and to break down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” That’s not the language of gentle encouragement. That’s the language of reform. Prophetic preaching doesn’t tickle ears. It tells the truth. It exposes sin. It unmasks idols. It calls people to repentance—not just privately, but publicly.

Some have tried to keep this kind of preaching at a distance, as if it’s too political or too controversial. But that misses the point. The prophets weren’t controversial because they were partisan. They were controversial because they spoke for God in a world that didn’t want to hear from Him. Their message was often political because sin is political. Injustice is political. Greed, abuse, oppression, law-breaking—these are public evils, and the prophets refused to remain silent about them. If preaching avoids all of that in the name of safety, it’s not prophetic. It’s protective.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, who spent years studying the Hebrew prophets, described their ministry this way: “The prophet hears God’s voice and feels His heart.” The preacher, then, is not simply a communicator. He is someone who reflects the grief of God over the condition of the people. He is angry at the evil in the world, and he is burdened by it. And so he speaks.

But today, we often avoid this burden. We settle for positivity. We aim for relevance. We want to encourage without offending, to inspire without correcting.

This is not a call to be harsh. Prophetic preaching is not about volume, outrage, or performance. It’s about truth spoken in love, with courage and clarity. It’s about naming the gap between what God desires and what actually is. It’s about preaching with conviction because you’ve spent time with God. You haven’t just been preparing a message, but carrying a burden.

The prophetic word doesn’t simply affirm. It calls. It calls us to righteousness. To justice. To repentance. To action. It doesn’t let the church remain at ease while the world burns. It disturbs our comfort—because our holy God is angry, yet because He cares so much. He sees the brokenness. He sees the compromise. He sees the idols that have taken His place. And He sends His messengers.

In truth, we need this kind of preaching again. We need Spirit-filled voices who are not afraid to speak to both the soul and the system, to both the believer and the nation, to both the heart and the culture. We need preachers who do not flinch when it’s time to tell the truth, because they fear God more than man.

And in a time when deception is widespread, when confusion is high, and when the church is tempted to remain silent, we need a prophetic voice.

Let’s pray for ministers to rise up with the courage to preach what God actually says—and to say it in love, in truth, and in full view of a watching world.