Mercy, my heart is heavier this week than I expected it to be. Another well-respected Christian leader hits the news. Technically, the case is only under investigation, but still, it’s not good. I didn’t expect to care this much because the trope of celebrity pastor falling from grace is old hat. That is the saddest part: news like this isn’t even surprising anymore. From within the fog of despondency, I force myself to ask the question yet again, is it time to walk away?

Do I have the option of retaining my faith while severing all affliction with the Evangelical church? Many people have done it already and I don’t judge them for it. I’ve seen from a distance and up close just some of the damage a religious community can inflict upon itself, and it fills me with shame. I’d prefer to be quiet about my affiliation.

Without knowing it at the time, I was blessed with a vital lesson within days of becoming a Christian. My church-going relatives led me through the sinner’s prayer and supplied me with a stack of sermon tapes to listen to. The main point of the very first one I picked was centered on the fact that God and the church are not one and the same. The church is full of people, and people can hurt you, but God never will. Wise not to confuse the two.

Because of this I rarely get mad at God when people are idiots. More often, I wonder if I’d be better off loving God quietly and not going to church, not even calling myself a Christian. There’s too much baggage, it’s very hard to explain myself, and these days no one actually wants to hear it anyway.

But here’s the rub: God loves the church. The church is God’s idea. The church might well be God’s vehicle for bringing his Kingdom to earth, as it is in heaven. The idea feels laughable at times. But here’s the next thing:

In the last few years, we have witnessed a global putting to rights. The Me-Too movement and Black Lives Matter are just two easy-to-name pieces of evidence. We are seeing bounding leaps forward in the areas of disability rights, gender equality, creation care, representation of diversity, and ethical business practices. None of it is perfect, but all of it points to the fact that humanity has said, Enough. We will no longer put up with the bullshit of the past.

Liberation is more than a two-way street. It is a volcanic eruption that incinerates anything daring to stand in its way. What is terrifying at first leaves in its wake ground that is fertile, on which we can begin again. I think liberation is God’s plan. I thank him for eruptions of justice all over the world and pray that every tower of evil will tumble, and I include the church in this prayer.

It gets tricky here. How can you claim to love God and his church but applaud the demise of a church leader? For starters, and for better or worse, I’ve not been in close proximity to the big potatoes of the Evangelical world. I do confess to previously quite liking some of their products. This here is not an attack on an individual. We punters all built the platforms from which these people topple. The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast expertly lays this out and should be mandatory listening for every church team.

The fact is that we collectively (and with only the best of intentions) built something that has turned into a monster. Surely the best course of action is to burn it to the ground and try to put things right. We are allowed to admit we made a mistake. Our whole religion is based on this idea. We can love the church while wanting to burn portions of it to the ground. Both, and.

Sticking around to sort out the pile of elephant dung in the room seems to be the right thing to do. I wonder if perhaps it is God’s plan. Bear with me. In the case of the church being a witness to the world, I don’t think the idea was ever to bedazzle unbelievers with glorious, glittery, “excellent”, and “relevant” productions complete with flocking crowds and smoke machines. I am beginning to suspect, maybe just maybe, it’s something more along the lines of us discovering and demonstrating a supernatural level of humility, repentance, reliance on grace, and willingness to change. I am talking about repair.

My Chinese grandmother was big on the idea of generational blessings, so it’s something I think about a fair bit. I wholeheartedly subscribe to God’s ability to change lives as well as generational patterns, but my understanding has shifted. I used to think it meant that since I was a believer if I had a family and stayed true to God, my kids would be spared the junk of their family lines. Along with many wonderful traits, our family histories are peppered with mental illness, addiction, and eating disorders.

The first time I watched one of my children in the throes of a full-blown panic attack, I was dumbfounded. I had put my faith in God that this would not happen to them. I had already ‘cut this off’ in Jesus’s name. I genuinely hoped they would not have to deal with this issue at all. Years in, I no longer think God’s miraculous power to change family legacy is a case of clicking a finger and amening a prayer. I think God changes generational patterns by giving me the grace to walk prayerfully through them, meeting each opportunity with better information & resources, the fruit of the spirit, and willingness to try something different. To Maya Angelou’s call, “When you know better, do better,” I whisper an addendum, by the grace of God.

I can’t fault anyone for not doing it though. It’s a challenge, especially if we are talking about church family legacy. I stick it out because I want to see this terrible legacy change. This is a personal conviction though. People are tricky and even if your church experience is blessed with a lack of blatant scandal, the nature of community is that people hurt people.

Does that mean we leave? Sometimes. There’s no blanket answer here. Some people have fallen victim to terrible abuses of power and rightly need to step back in order to heal. I hope everyone in that camp can do so, be blessed, and be welcomed on their return should they choose to make one at any point. This is a personal decision that requires great wisdom. The sooner we get in the habit of respecting people’s decisions instead of heaping shame and guilt on them, the better.

But for those of us who have the capacity and inclination to stick it out, consider this: What if we stay? What if we stay and do the really hard work of fixing part of what’s gone wrong? It’s a huge ask. What makes it even harder is the fact that sticking around means mingling with others who may or may not share your desire to tear down and rebuild, or worse, don’t even see that there’s a problem. Some will actively question your motives. Some will go right on perpetrating the very injustices you seek to end. No one should fault you if you decline the invitation.

How to decide? No one should stay in an abusive environment. A problem with this is that part of surviving in one involves being gaslit and learning to silence the inner voice that whispers, something’s not right here.

It would be prudent to pause and reflect on the possibility that you are in an unhealthy place. No one who cares for your well-being would question this. Do some research on what constitutes spiritual and emotional abuse. Talk to someone you trust who is outside of the context in question. If you don’t know anyone outside that context, you probably are in trouble.

Other questions to consider:

1. Is your church centered around one or more dynamic personality who could be mistaken for a celebrity? Do they do justice to their role of pastor while also building their brand?
2. Do you feel safe enough to raise concerns or ask questions?
3. Do you tend to downplay problems with the church to outsiders?
4. Have you noticed a tendency to make excuses for incidents or wrongdoings by authority figures?

If answering these questions is upsetting, please consider taking a break, talking to a therapist, or working on other interests for a time. No need to explain yourself unless you want to.

The last thing I want to do is add pressure on anyone, but I’ve come this far.

If you have answered yes to some of the questions above, but choose to do nothing about it, you are feeding the beast. Although it is easier and less problematic, turning a blind eye to abuse means you align with it and enable more. I know it is complicated, and we condition ourselves to be amenable and agreeable rather than to stir pots, but this pot needs to be hurled across the auditorium. May you find God’s courage. Consider making an anonymous report.

Good Pastors: please do not do nothing. Do not say nothing. There are people in your flock who have to relive their trauma every time another scandal hits the headlines. It is not fair that they fell victim in the first place. The onslaught continues for them and they pay a high price whether they come forward or not. They need to know you see them, even if you don’t know who they are. I promise you they are there. Please say something that will comfort them and show your dedication to doing what you can to put right the state of the church. Please be very open about your structures of accountability and your desire to not harm the people God has entrusted to your care. Invite questions. I’m sorry this is awkward.

If, on the very slim chance you are a leader who is guilty of mistreating others, stop kidding yourself. Do yourself and everyone else a favor and step down, and do not make a ministry comeback for a very long time. Maybe never. Go away and do the very hard work you need to do. God has built his church for centuries without your ‘help’. He can and will continue. Your causing harm was never the plan in the first place. In His infinite grace, he has something better for you, and everyone else. Enough.

Churchgoers and elephant spotters, let’s keep this conversation open so the light can shine. Let’s stop being charmed by big names. We can show our leaders how much we love and respect them by holding them to the highest account, insisting on professional transparency and safeguarding protocol. Let’s stop funding organizations that cause harm. Instead, we could support and encourage the gifts and seeds that God has planted right in our local churches. They won’t be as dazzling as what we’ve grown used to, but that’s probably a good thing.

No one was ever under the illusion that we were perfect, so let yourself off that hook, good Christians. Please know that despite what some people say, calling out wrongdoing or evil in the church is not an act of treachery. It is an act of mercy.