In the last two years, I’ve seen five or six Church leaders I’ve personally respected step down from ministry because of significant sin issues—two in the last week. These were men and women I thought were following the way of Christ and living the message they were teaching: a message of integrity, selflessness, and virtue.
What do we do when our heroes fail us? What if our hero is a parent or a teacher we love? With so many people leaving institutional Christianity or deconstructing their faith exactly because of these kinds of failures, I wanted to share how I’ve been processing the loss.
Shock
It always hurts. They say the first two stages of grief are denial and anger. Depending on how close you are to the person, it can feel like the ground underneath you is shaking, like the world isn’t exactly as it seems. I have a friend who lost his faith because of an affair his father had covered up until his deathbed. I’ve listened to people share about how their own personal role model turned out to be a first-class manipulator and criminal. It’s always devastating. Of course, we know that “the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure” (Jeremiah 17:9). But when you are slapped in the face with it, it always hurts like nothing else.
Tears
Under the anger and disbelief, it can feel like falling into a black hole. If we are honest enough, we can recognize the haunting voice of grief and aching in our hearts. Sin always ends in a loss of trust. Trust is the precious commodity that glues us together. When someone fails us, it feels like a knife in the back. It shakes our trust, not only in them but also in others—“If I can’t trust them, who can I trust?”
It's really important to allow yourself space to grieve. Now is not the time to throw stones. Now is the time to pour ashes on your head and count your losses. David cried out from his sorrow:
“Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am in distress; my eyes grow weak with sorrow, my soul and body with grief. My life is consumed by anguish and my years by groaning; my strength fails because of my affliction, and my bones grow weak” (Psalm 31:9-10).
The Pit
Depression, too, is a normal stage in grief. It’s that black hole in your gut, that oppressive weight on your shoulders. It sucks the air out of life and leaves you feeling like you’ve just been robbed at gunpoint. Don’t lose your faith in the dangerous dark alleys. God does promise, “I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow” (Jeremiah 31:13). Not overnight. Not even next week. Just know that you won’t always feel this disillusioned or this unmotivated. The sun rise will above the horizon again.
The Choice
Depending on your proximity to the person, you may need new relational boundaries. If you’re a victim, then you probably need immediate distance and protection from this person. If this person is a leader you know from a distance, then that’s a different protocol. In the Christian world, people are quick to the guns of accusation and disgust and erasing the memory of “that liar” from planet Earth.
As the smoke clears and the news chatter hushes, there’s a choice we will have to make. Will I carry offense towards this person—or towards everyone they represent: all Christians, all pastors, all men, all white people, all rich people, for example—or will I start by recognizing that each and every one of us is broken and in need of healing? This doesn’t exonerate the person from their sins or trivialize what they’ve done. It does something in my heart to open the windows and breathe the fresh air of liberty instead of the choking fumes of hostility and judgment.
Looking Inward
In this moment of stunned silence, I often find myself looking inward. We all share in the same spoiled cabbage of human nature, “Everyone has turned away, all have become corrupt; there is no one who does good, not even one” (Psalm 53:3). I have to recognize that the seed of every sin lives in me. “Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me” (Psalm 51:5). Given the right set of circumstances, I am quite capable of betraying my deepest values, falling into error, or rationalizing self-centered behavior. What can I learn from this person’s mistakes for my own journey? How can I be wise to live in transparency, shut out temptation, or cling to Jesus’ loving corrections?
Looking Backward
Betrayal casts everything that person did into the glaring light of suspicion. I think it’s important not to discredit everything they’ve ever said or intended. We are all capable of living in a mixture of motivations or making ten good choices and one bad one. One mistake or one unrenewed habit in their life doesn’t mean they are an evil person or everything they do is selfish. There are honorable characteristics in all of us. We don’t have to typecast this person as a villain. We can view them as someone still in need of Christ’s transformation. Don’t we all have specific areas where we are disappointed with ourselves or still need delivered from lies? Just because one elder had an affair doesn’t mean the eight years you spent at that church were wasted.
Looking Forward
Trust is a precious commodity. I had a significant person in my life violate that in a painfully deep way. I’ve forgiven them, but I don’t trust that they know me or value the essence of who I am. You can believe I still have boundaries to protect myself when I’m around them. For leaders who break trust with entire communities of people, trust is almost impossible to restore. The violator needs time to step down and grow through repentance, healing, and quietness. Healing has to be acted out in accountability. They may or may not ever regain the public trust to serve in those capacities again. That is for the community to discern, not the failed leader.
Looking Upward
When leaders fail, it is like a meteor tearing through our network of human relationships, destabilizing, to say the least. And yet, in another sense, it shouldn’t surprise us, and it doesn’t change anything. Our scriptures teach that all humanity is sinful and depraved. King David failed epically, as did King Saul, Moses, etc. Those who carry God’s message of grace are themselves deeply flawed and in need of salvation.
Jesus is still completely different than anyone who’s come before or after him. He alone is worthy of your continued faith and faithfulness. He is trustworthy in all his ways. Pure in virtue. Perfect in his wisdom. Beautiful in his compassion. Selfless in character. Exceptional in justice.
We live in a world of wounds. Christ steps into the gap and heals desperate places. I am more and more astonished at how bad we are and how good he is. Cling to him and walk in the humility of his transforming truth and grace for your own life.
Tags: sin, gospel, depression, pain, healing, transformation, leaders, integrity, betrayal, grief, virtue, loss, boundaries, shock, victims, infidelity
