The TMZ Attitude of the Church

You’re a Christian. You just got caught embezzling money. You got caught cheating on your spouse. You got caught lying to a large group of people about your true nature. Everyone just found out that you’re an alcoholic.

Worst part? You’re a member of a large church. Everyone knows you and respects you. Past tense: Respected you.

Now, your sin is out there for everyone to see.

Your sin gets exposed in several different ways. You may come forward with it on your own. You confess to your spouse, your church and to your friends, hoping for a restoration to a Christian walk. That doesn’t happen very often. When it does, sometimes it turns out well.

Maybe you get caught. When you get caught, it might make front page news. Maybe you get arrested. Maybe the phone lines burn up with words like, “Can you believe _________ did ___________? Unbelievable!”

What you will learn quickly is who your friends are.

The Christian community is called to restore those who fall. Galatians 6:1 cannot be any clearer:  Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.

Unfortunately, in many churches in our world, the idea of restoration has been mixed with a TMZ idea of scandal and soap opera drama. Instead of rushing to the sinner’s side, many parishoners sit on their hands and wait to see what will happen next. When the faintest wafting of gossip comes their way, the prayer chain is jammed with misinformation.

Members don’t bring covered dishes, they stand back with disdain and judgment.

Why does this type of attitude remain in our churches? I’ve written about it in my book, but it has to be said over and over again if we are to attempt to restore the sinners in our midst. If they aren’t worth saving, who is?

Many people look down on a sinner because it gives them a chance to say, “I’m better than they are.” It’s like we can all line ourselves up from most devious to most righteous. But that doesn’t work in God’s economy. The justification of Christ means that all Christians stand holy before God. When any of us commit a sin, we are forgiven. He still holds us fast in His hand and forgives us when we ask.

Many look down on us because they see how close they are to the same sin. Our own sin exposes their sinful hearts. We are each capable of the most heinous sins if we do not stand guard and give ourselves to the Spirit.

When a member falls, when a member sins, make haste to their side. Even if they don’t answer right away. Even if they distance themselves from you. Even if they don’t return your calls or texts. Approach them in love, not judgment. Let them know you love them. Treat them like the person they were before. They need to know they are loved. God is the one who will work on their hearts. Trust God to do His work and you stand by and walk with them.

And as my mother used to say, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Cutting the Old Testament Israelites a Break

I grew up Southern Baptist. Please don’t judge me too harshly.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the story. About the Israelites wandering through the wilderness from Egypt to the Promised Land. It was a trip that should have taken a couple of months. But because  of their whining, disobedience and poor attitude, God let them wander for a whole generation until they reached their final destination.

Heck, even Moses messed up one time (actually a few times) and wasn’t able to enter the promised land. Right before he died he could only view it from the heights of Mt. Pisgah and grieve over the sin that kept him out.

Now, let me tell you how the Israelites’ sin is usually discussed in Southern Baptist Sunday schools:

“These people were being led by God. Yet every day they found something new to complain about. They had God sent manna from heaven, God leading the way, solid leadership and had been set free from the slavery of Egypt. Yet, they somehow found a way to complain about something.”

Of course, after years of this indoctrination, you begin to think two things. First, you think, “Silly Israelites. How could they ever complain? They have God. What a bunch of whiners!”

That charge is burned into you for a long time as a Southern Baptist. It sure is easy to think that when you’re 12, sitting in Sunday School while eating a donut and wearing a clip on tie. It’s always easier to judge people when you have 20/20 hindsight and are reading the story of people who have already experienced the pain.

The second thing you think is this: “If that had been me, I would have been a faithful follower of God. I would’ve followed that pillar of fire to the ends of the earth and never complained.”

Yeah, right. Think about it for a moment. Thousands of people pilgrimaging out of the land they grew up in, some of the elderly, some pregnant, all of them just witnessing the plagues of Egypt first hand, not sure where they’re going, some dying along the way, no shower stalls available, hot sun during the day, cold nights, etc.

I had a stern revelation the other day that slapped my Sunday School righteousness out of me. I’ve mentioned my hobby before – geocaching. It’s like a world wide treasure hunt. You use a GPS enabled device to find little containers people have hidden. Some are really easy to find and some are more challenging. Chances are there are some near your house. The iPhone has a geocaching app for beginners if you’re interested. Some have little toys for the kids to find in them and they have a log to sign in them to show you’ve been there. It’s free and it’s a lot of fun.

One of the joys of geocaching is to be the first to find a cache someone has hidden. I hadn’t been the first to find yet and I saw a new cache had been published at the Land Between the Lakes National Park near our home. Did I say near? I thought it was near. On the drive there, I remembered it was about an hour and a half. But that’s okay. It was about finding the cache first.

When I finally arrived at LBL, I found a place to park on a side road and realized the geocache was a mile hike into the woods. Now, a disclaimer. I am a rabid indoorsman. I really don’t like going outdoors a lot. Mowing the lawn isn’t my thing. But I figured I’d find a trail and walk right up to it. In reality, there was a game trail. For those who don’t know, a game trail is a trail that five people walk down a year and deer use regularly. I was able to follow it pretty well.

In about an hour, I found the cache and signed the log. That was after sliding down a ravine, taking six breaks and being thankful I had brought a bottled water with me. That was on the way in.

On the way out, I spilled my water. I found the trail, I thought, and started walking. In circles. For a while. Down a ravine (not the same one I had gone down on the way in). I went up a steep hill (very steep). Stopped 20 times to rest. Three hours later, I had to admit I was lost. On my last rest, I looked down and saw a deer tick on my shoe. I’ve never had a deer tick on me. I complained. Loudly.

I then realized I had been complaining out loud for the past three hours. I’m sure nature was getting tired of my loud complaining. I was probably killing trees with my whining.

Then it hit me. I had only been in the stinking woods for four hours and I was already a rampant whiner/complainer. My mind settled on the Israelites and how I had become so judgmental toward them while I was in Sunday School. They had a right to complain, I thought. Darnit, if I had been there, wandering through the desert, I would have been the worst of them:

“Moses, are we there yet? When are we stopping for water? Did you see the size of that snake? Does anyone have a camel I can ride?”

I did eventually find my way out as my complaining turned to severe prayers for help. I was covered in sweat, exhausted and weak. When I got home, we pulled thirty deer ticks off me. They were crawling inside my shirt and shoes. It was lovely.

But at that point, I decided not to complain. I knew a whole bunch of people who had been through worse. And I had a new found admiration for them.

Our Sense of Entitlement: Why it Means Nothing

I’ve spent a lot of time interviewing fallen pastors and reflecting on my own thoughts after my fall.

One of the themes that came after my own fall was this: “How could they have such harsh, unforgiving thoughts for me? I loved them, cared for them while they were in the hospital, performed their marriages, did the funerals for their loved ones, stood by them while they were sick, preached hundreds of sermons – how dare they reject me after one sin!”

I hear that too in the voices of other fallen pastors. It’s the idea of entitlement. We did this for you, so how could you turn your back on us after we committed one sin?

I would love to defend myself here, but it’s just not possible. The sin of adultery is a heinous one. It is a sin against God and God alone, to be sure. But to the people in the pews, it is one of trust and betrayal.

Not everyone in the church reacts the same way. Some are able to look beyond the sin and forgive immediately. They see the pastor as human, full of fault, just as they are. They accept him as a man who had a past and incurred a horrible downfall. A man who could sin just like them. They forgive and love immediately. These people are far and few between.

Most are not able to forgive so quickly. They feel disappointed in this man who stood in the pulpit week after week preaching the Word of God. He baptized their children, he organized Vacation Bible School, he was the voice in the wildnerness. They bragged on him and invited people in the community to come hear him. But the fallen pastor thinks one thing, “How could they turn their backs on me?“

There’s a dynamic that most people don’t think about. On one hand, the pastor was mired in a difficult situation that strung out for years. In his mind, he wasn’t turning his back on his congregation, but on his wife and his God. He needed help, he knew it and he found himself in a place where he needed comfort. Was it right? No. But he went ahead anyway.

From the congregation’s standpoint, all they see is betrayal.

I think that’s why Galatians 6:1 calls upon the Christian fellowship to “restore” such a one to Christian fellowship. To understand people who fall. To come along side any fallen person and love them. We never understand the circumstances, but we always know it is right to try to understand and restore, no matter how hard it may be.

It’s a wide gulf to span. From the pastor’s view, he’s been suffering for a long time in crisis and malcontent. From the congregation’s view, the pastor abandoned them for greener pastures. If there is a common ground to be found, it has to be found in the person of Jesus Christ. Because in Him, we will find common ground. In Him, we will find peace and restoration.

Now, let’s take this a step further. Let’s look at the church at large. The church culture has had a huge sense of entitlement for years. As a disclaimer, it’s not all churches, but many churches in the mainstream.

It’s the feeling that because we have a building, because we have a congregation, because we have been in place for a long time, we don’t need to do anything but exist. We have a set of people in place, a clique. Everyone looks mostly like us, acts like us, and our leadership keeps things under control. We invite people to church who look like us and act like us.

For the most part, there is no reason to make any kind of change. We are an entitled community. And we back that with our belief that Jesus is happy with the way we are running our churches.

But what if He’s not?

I’ve visited several white congregations when an African-American shows up. What is the reaction? Everyone stares. What happens when a person of less than standard means shows up to a medium-class church? People begin to think, “That person must be here to ask for money.”

Strange that Jesus has called the church to go out into the world, into all people and make His church a place for all people. Yet, when someone like us shows up to church, we get very uncomfortable. Why? Because churches across America has become more like a country club with exclusive access than a place where anyone, regardless of socioeconomic background, racial status, educational background or disability can come worship.

We are an entitled church. We are an entitled society. We are a people who do not wish to restore anyone, even if it is someone within our midst.

When the stranger enters into our midst, it should be a sign from God that He has sent them there, providentially. We should seek them out as a friend, a fellow traveler. Could it be dangerous? Could it be difficult? Sure. But I never saw Christ shrink away from a challenge.

How Did I Get Here? Jonathan Brink, Providence and Who Knows?

It’s 1:30 in the morning.

A few rugged hours from now, I’ll be preaching and signing some books.

It’s really time for me to be honest with my readers. I’m about to put it on the line. I’m about to publish a blog at 2:00 am Central time, when no one is up. No one reads on Sunday morning. Or afternoon. But there’s a few things I have to say. And I’m going to say it anyway.

There’s a song by the Talking Heads that says, “How did I get here?” That’s how I feel right now. As a man who believes in the sovereignty of God, a man who knows from the foundation of the world God had a plan, that He has no plan B, I am absolutely amazed that I am where I am at this moment.

Two years ago, I was struggling. I was blogging anonymously, trying to rid my head of the pain that beset me. It was there that a man named Jonathan Brink found me. Let me be clear – Jonathan Brink is not a guy I would have ever probably talked to 10 years ago. His theology and ideas would have scared me. After I fell, there was something about him that made him different from every other Christian that turned their back on me. You know what it was? He loved me for who I was. He just loved me for the person I was.

Yeah, I’m a Southern Baptist Calvinist who loves God. But guess what? After I’ve fallen, I was surrounded by men like Jonathan who loved me. The people who believed like I did abandoned me for the most part. Jonathan believed in me, saw worth in me and gave me a shot. I’ve shared with him my fears, my weakness. He’s seen the worst of me in my writing. And he cares about me anyway. I know that in this world, there are few men like him. And I’m proud to call him my brother in Christ. My friend.

In the past two years, I found restoration with God. Because of men like Jonathan, like my pastor Jimmy Stewart, I know that I am no longer a fallen pastor. I’m Ray Carroll. A child of God. A restored creation. A man who sees a broken system in the church who can warn others of what is out there.

I get calls frequently of pastors who are out there who know there is something wrong. They aren’t quite sure what it is, but they are feeling the system is beating them down. As a man who was in that system and felt the worst of it, I can console them. I can help them through it.

The church culture today isn’t the best. It isn’t what Christ wants for us, I don’t think. He wants authentic Christian community. Most of us are blind to it. I was. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand it until I fell.

I’ve had a lot of people read my book. Not just fallen pastors. I’ve had a lot of church people read my book. All of them have said the same thing – “I had no idea what pastors go through. It must be awful. My eyes are now opened to what you went through. Something needs to change.”

Yes, it does.

I have this idea that runs through my feeble little head many nights before I fall asleep. What if Jesus were to walk into our churches on a Sunday morning? What if He were to see what we were doing? Would He be pleased? Or would He hang His head in shame?

I have a strong belief that if Christ came into our communities, He would avoid our churches. He would go straight for those areas that our churches avoid. He would walk into the low income areas, the strip clubs, the minority neighborhoods, the welfare sections and the unchurched areas. He would go where our churches are afraid to go. And he would minister.

He would go to the places where we don’t want to go. Why? Because we don’t want those people in our churches. We want people in church to look like us. To act like us. To conform like us.

We’re really no different than the Pharisees.

About six months before I fell, I had a deacon quit the church and leave. It was before I ever got involved in adultery. When he left, he called me a “Pharisee.” I got really mad about that. Looking back, he was right. I was a Pharisee. I was a hypocrite. I only wanted my way. I only wanted to justify my actions. I wanted the black and white.

Thank you, God. Thank you for men like Jonathan. Men who have the voice to speak to the truth even though many tell them they are wrong. Thank you that there are people who speak loudly, even though they are called heretics. But I now know that there is love in those people. People whose love speaks louder than the judgment of those who are part of the established tradition. Your Word is true. It is right. But it is also proven over and over again through action.

How did I get here? Through the grace and providence of God. Working through others. I fall on my face, thanking Him that I am even worthy of His mercy.

 

“Captain Coward” and the Failure to Rescue

I’ve got a new post up over at Provoketive Magazine called “‘Captain Coward’ and the Failure to Rescue”. It uses the cruise ship Costa Concordia captain’s decisions last week as a jumping off point for a discussion about the church’s failure to monitor its own disasters.

Here’s an excerpt:

Another thought – we do have people who go overboard in the church every single week. People who abandon ship due to weariness, moral failure, backsliding or other sin. Some are pastors, some are deacons, some are single mothers, some are youth, some are new members. But they leave. They jump overboard. And what is the most common response?

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend.

The Church and the Kid with the Poopy Pants

Oh, hey there. For those who follow me on Facebook, I was in the hospital last night. If I had wanted to Facebook overdramatize it, Iwould have said, “I HAd a HRt aTTack!! OMgoSH!” Actually, my heart sped up too fast.250 beats a minute too fast. It’s called an SVT. Look it up. I dare you. They gave me meds. I’m all better now. Got discharged and pretty quickly but I’m exhausted. I’m resting.

Yeah, I’ll blog about it.

In the meantime, here’s an article I wrote foo Provoketive called: The Church and the Kid with the Poopy Pants. Here’s an excerpt:

Does the mainstream church really want people who aren’t like them? Do they really want the unwashed, poopy-diapered kids in the world? Do they really want the below-average, low-income, low-ACT scored people of the world? Or do does the mainstream church want people like them? Do they want people to conform to their ways? People to act like them?

Finding Restoration in a Broken World

Today is the official release date for my book, Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World.

I’ve got a thousand different emotions going on and a lot of things I want to blog about, but today, I want to take a moment to write about the basic idea of the book.

I fell from the pastorate two years ago when I committed adultery. There were a lot of factors that led to my fall that are common among other pastors. Unrealistic expectations, isolation from friendships, declining relationship with spouse, church conflict and major tragedy. In the end, it was my decision to sin. I’ve discussed that a lot on this blog.

Today, I stand in amazement, though. I’ve found restoration.

Two years ago, I hit rock bottom. I thought God wasn’t listening and I was sure He didn’t care about me. I felt like a failure as a pastor (before and after I fell), I had lost both parents in separate accidents within a year of each other, and I had no one to talk to. In fact, I was pretty sure God had it in for me.

There were days long before I even contemplated adultery that I stood in the pulpit with a smile on my face, tie on properly, shirt pressed, but with a dark, hardened heart. Then the fall came. During the months after, I was sure no one would ever speak to me again. I was sure the stain of sin would be a mark that could never be removed. I was sure that shame would be my constant companion for the rest of my miserable life.

Slowly, repentance came. I discovered that truly, God is a longsuffering and patient God. If He were not, I would have been a grease stain on the carpet of my former church a long time ago. He waited for me when I would not wait for Him.

After I sinned, I had few people who would speak to me, but the ones who remained were the right ones. They encouraged me, loved me and walked with me. I had two close friends who were patient, sometimes firm, but always loving. I reached out to fallen pastors throughout the country who were in various stages of their own fall. They each encouraged me, told me the truth and prayed with me.

My new wife Allison and I also went through a process during that time as well. She watched me as I went from angry to depressed to anxious to humbled.

Those months were terrible, yet redeeming. They are etched in my mind and will stay with me forever. They were necessary for God to break me and make me into something usable.

Very few are willing to reach out to a fallen pastor. It’s something I ponder in the book. A lot of people don’t know what to say to him. Some people think they might be “guilty by association” if they speak to him. Typically, he is cast out, never to be heard from again.

At some point, God grabbed me and said, “I’m not done with you. I have plans for you, but I’m going to humble your proud heart in the process.” He did. And He continues to do so.

When I speak of restoration, I don’t mean restoration to the pulpit. I don’t even mean restoration to the ministry. I just believe that fallen pastors need to be shown compassion and love. They need people to walk with them, to show them the way to brokenness and repentance. It’s important because even a pastor can’t always find the right path, even though we think they should know the way.

I recently joined a ministry team, Fallen Pastors (www.fallenpastors.com) who help pastors who are contemplating sexual sin or who have already fallen. They have a small staff, but do their best to answer every email. If you are a fallen pastor or are in trouble, please don’t hesitate to reach out for help. It can become isolated, it can feel like you’re alone. But you’re not.

This book isn’t about me. It’s not about my glorification. It’s about the glory of God and restoring those who have fallen. There is a problem with the culture in which we live. The best thing about problems is that they are fixable. Together, with the compassion of Christ, we can fix people, we can fix cultures and we can find restoration in this broken world.

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Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World is available at Amazon.com. It will be available soon at other outlets. Ask your local bookstore about availability.

 

1,500 Americans Are Disappearing A Month – Did You Notice?

There is a tragedy that has been taking place for a long time around us. According to one statistic, 1,500 pastors a month leave the ministry due to conflict, burnout, or moral failure. 1,500. If you like annual statistics, that’s 18,000 a year.

I remember on the first day of seminary orientation, the leader told us that only half of us in that room would graduate. Of that half, only half would make it two years.

The ministry is a difficult thing. It is hard on the pastor, his family and his emotions. Unless you’ve been “behind the curtain”, it’s hard to know exactly what a pastor goes through. There are high expectations (which should be there), unrealistic expectations (which should not be there), feelings of isolation, a distancing between himself and his spouse and the daily grind of ministry. Behind all of this, the pastor forges ahead, seeking to do what he feels is right, chasing after the ministry. In the end, many leave disillusioned with bitterness, sin and a wounded church left in the wake.

In my upcoming book, “Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World,” I deal primarily with those pastors who leave the ministry after committing adultery. In most cases, they leave in shame, without counseling and are thrown on the trash heap of Christendom. But there are more casualties than that. There are those who leave the ministry because of too much stress, pressure and an easier life. Even they are scorned to some degree.

In the end, it is easier for those in the churches to disperse blame upon the pastor for leaving. In the case of the adulterer, it was most certainly his decision. He sinned and he is to be held accountable. Those who leave because they “just couldn’t take it anymore” are often viewed as weak and abandoning their call. To view it in this way, from one set of circumstances, will simply cause the American church to continue in a crisis that it has been engaged in for a long time and may not have realized it.

There is a culture in our churches today that together with the heart of the minister, weakens those in ministry. Statistics bear it out. Over 60% of pastors are battling depression. In one report, close to a majority of them felt the ministry was destroying their marriage. This isn’t to blame the modern church. It is however, a way to say that something is wrong. It cannot always be the fault of the ministers who seem to be abandoning ship at such a high rate.

What if we were able to step back from the problem? What if we could see that there is a severe culture issue at hand that needs to be addressed? One that needs to be addressed in the heart of the minister as well as the way we run our churches? I believe there is.

In my book, I interviewed several experts and fallen pastors and came to a startling conclusion. Many pastors are not chasing after the things they need to chase after – they are chasing after the ideal of ministry. In turn, many churches are placing their pastors on a pedestal that is unrealistic. Together, this causes the minister to chase after ministry instead of Christ. His attention turns to something other than what he was originally called to do. In turn, the relationship he has with his wife suffers. His feelings about ministry suffer. He begins to seek after affirmation instead of the comfort of Christ.

There is no blame to be cast here. What needs to happen is an awareness of the culture we have cultivated. Pastors are not honest about their weaknesses. Churches are puffing their leaders up very highly. Pastors become isolated and disengaged. Eventually, many find a way out. Adultery, quitting, or leaving after a conflict. Are they the right responses? Sin is never the right response.

Prevention is the best approach. Deal with the culture that is in play. How many of us know churches that run through a pastor in about three years and cast him aside? How many of us know pastors who are at their wits end and are struggling to find meaning? How many of us know churches that seek definition not in the person of Christ but in their leadership or programs?

I don’t want to see any more pastors fall. I pray that my book will help those who have fallen, those who are on the verge of a fall, the churches who desire to change their culture, and those who desire to restore the fallen.

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Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World is available for preorder at Civitas Press. It will be available soon at Amazon.com and will also be available for the Kindle.

Living David’s Prayer of Repentance

I have had a remarkable week, but it’s not been about me. On Monday, I shared a providential moment when I ran into a former church member who I hadn’t seen in quite some time. We were able to mend a broken relationship.

The next day, I received a call from a former deacon. His mother had passed away following a short illness. He asked me to perform the funeral. To say I was stunned would not come close to how I felt. I knew his mother well, loved her and thought highly of her. I didn’t hesitate and was honored to do it for them.

She was an amazing woman. Three years ago, after my mother was killed in a car accident, she showed me great love. The Sunday I decided to step back into the pulpit, she stopped me in the sanctuary. She gave me a big hug like she always did, then she did something she had never done before – she gave me a kiss on the cheek. She said, “Your mama isn’t around to give you a kiss on the cheek anymore. So I’m going to do it for her.” She never missed a Sunday, either.

Her family also included the former head deacon of my church. Both of these men I have approached in the previous year, asking for forgiveness, desiring reconciliation on some level. They have both been gracious to me. That has been miraculous to me. When I first fell, I was told by many fallen pastors that reconciliation with former members was impossible. I prayed they were wrong.

When the phone call came, I was immediately concerned about other issues. I knew many from my former church would be at the funeral. I called and spoke to a member of the family. She said, “We knew there might be some who might be concerned about you doing the funeral, but you were the last pastor who really knew her.” I said, “If I do it right, it will be all about her and Jesus. No one will even know I’m there.”

Details are unimportant at this point. The love shown to me and Allison was overwhelmingly positive. Sure, there was a little awkwardness at times, but I stayed in the background. The death of a loved one isn’t about the minister, it’s about grieving and loving the family.

Several former members showed me great love and said extremely kind things to me that I will cherish forever. My former head deacon, the one who had first found out about my adultery and reacted with such great disappointment, approached me right before the funeral and said, “You know I love you, don’t you?” I said, “I do. And I love you too.”

About an hour before the service, the funeral director wanted to change the order of service a little. I was to give my normal eulogy, but he wanted me to add a small five minute talk between a couple of songs. I thought, “No problem.” I had her bible in my hand and I went to the Psalms. She had marked up her bible, noting passages that were very important to her. The Psalms are always very important to people and always help people who are grieving. I decided I would share part of the Psalm she had marked the most.

I thumbed furiously through her bible and found it. But it couldn’t be right. I looked again. And again. It was Psalm 51, David’s prayer of repentance. She had marked a set of verses halfway through and written the following statement, “A life lived in Christ is a life lived with virtue for all to see.” She had touched my life so many times before and she had done it again, even in passing.

I rose to the podium and read these words: “Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit. Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it;  you will not be pleased with a burnt offering.  The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;  a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.” (Psalm 51:14-17 ESV)

I remember when I interviewed Hershael York, professor from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, for my book, he told me two things that really stuck with me. First, he told me that if people were going to be mad at me for my fall, let them. I was the one who sinned and created the situation. I had to show them grace and love because it was something I expected as well.

Secondly, he told me, “Your repentance has to be more notorious than your sin.” I don’t know if I’m quite there yet. I do know that when I was done with the funeral, people were grieving. No attention was being paid to me. That’s the way it should be. People came and shook my hand and said, “You knew her, thank you for your words.” And that was it. That was what it was supposed to be about.

There was a fellowship meal after the graveside at my former church. I went for a little bit, but left. On my way out, a close friend of hers chased me out of the church and stopped me in the parking lot. He said, “I want you to know something about her. She never judged you for what you did. She always loved you.”I hugged him and told him thank you.

That was something I needed to hear. And it was worth more than anyone will ever know. I am thankful for my God, who continually works to restore His people, reconcile them to one another and to Himself.

Fallen Pastor: The Book, Part 2 – Understanding The Fall

When I started working with Jonathan Brink, my editor at Civitas Press, about writing  a book about fallen ministers, I had the idea to write about my experience and discuss how to prevent other ministers from making the same mistake. He said, “A book just about you won’t work. It will sound like you’re trying to justify yourself. It has to have stories of other ministers.”

He was right. Jonathan is a very smart guy. In fact, he had the idea to interview many fallen pastors, look for the common reasons behind pastoral failure and examine them. I’m glad I did.

I won’t forget the day I got caught. It was awful. I deserved to get caught, obviously. I was a cheater and a liar. I left my home and my church forever. It was over.

I remember that it felt like the world was spinning for the next few months. One of the fallen pastors I interviewed said the few months after his fall were like his own personal “9/11.” I’m a fact finder. I try to make sense of things. I want to know the “why” of life.

Yeah, I knew it was my fault. I knew it was my sin. I was also busy blaming the stress of the job, church conflict, etc.  Within the two previous years, both parents had died in separate accidents and I hadn’t really grieved properly. There were a lot of variables. I didn’t just wake up one day and say, “I think I’m going to break the seventh commandment!” It wasn’t that simple. I wanted everything to make sense.

I did two things. First, I started to blog anonymously. That was an interesting experience. Some of you followed my blog back then. I was blogging under the name “Arthur Dimmesdale”. I changed all my information and enough details to become obscure. I was doing it to clear my head out and to try to make sense of it all. I had a lot of interesting things happen to me while I was blogging my story.

First, I had a lot of fallen pastors and pastors who were about to fall contact me. They wanted to email, dialogue and ask for advice. I wanted advice too. It was exciting to try to help people, but I needed help too. I made some good friends in those days.

Secondly, I got really tickled at one point when a message board found me and started following my story. Most of them didn’t believe me. Message boards can be a vile place. They were pretty ugly about my situation, but I took it all in stride. One of them said, “This has to be made up – the story is just unbelievable.” Tell me about it. I was living it.

Third, I had a television show contact me. They wanted to do a reality episode about my affair. It was a no go, obviously. I’m telling you, some weird things happen to me, but that was one of the strangest.

Finally, that was where Jonathan Brink first contacted me about writing. I’m thankful for that. My mother wrote eight Christian books and she sent out letter after letter to publishers. I was fortunate to be found by writing a blog.

The other thing I did to try and make sense of everything was to call fallen pastors across the country. I started calling pastor friends and asking them if they knew pastors who had fallen and I got phone numbers. Most of these men had been out of the ministry for several years but they were all willing to talk to me. I wanted to know what to expect, what they felt and if they were ever able to reconcile with their former church. These men were so kind and gracious to share their stories with me. I ended up using several of their stories for my upcoming book.

Those two things – blogging and talking to fallen pastors – set up a good framework for understanding the culture in which pastor’s fall. It helped me understand that I was responsible for my sin, but there was a subtle trap that exists for all pastors that they need to be aware of that can bring about their downfall if they aren’t careful.

That’s what Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World seeks to do. It uncovers the dangerous culture that exists in some churches that we might not be aware of. Hopefully by examining the issues within the church and the heart of the pastor, future ministry failure can be prevented.

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Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World is available for preorder at Civitas Press. It will be available soon at Amazon.com and will also be available for the Kindle.