Today I heard that a widely respected Christian author and preacher, now 76 years old, a man who has spent almost a lifetime writing books that have blessed millions, has confessed to an affair that lasted eight years. This is not the first time we have heard such news. We remember others, public servants of God, who fell during the COVID period, some of whom are no longer alive to speak for themselves. And as the news broke, my mind did not rush to his sin. It drifted to our response.
What I witnessed
Within hours, clips flooded YouTube and social media; shock, disbelief, outrage.
“How could this happen?”. “How did he fall so far?”. Then came the predictable chorus: name-calling, public disqualification, mockery, speculation, exaggeration, ridicule, targeted humiliation; mostly from fellow Christians. The church did not pray. It pounced. Like a pride of hungry lions on a wounded deer, we ripped and tore while he was still alive. We called it “discernment.” We called it “protecting the flock.” But what it often was, was self-righteous cruelty dressed in spiritual language. Yes, there will be consequences. He will step down from leadership. He will likely never be received the same way again. His future words will be filtered through suspicion. Friends will quietly distance themselves. His name, once spoken with respect, honour and gratitude, will now be spoken with shame and disgrace. In short, he will be rejected. And perhaps the most tragic part: he will feel condemned, not only by his own conscience, but by the very community that preaches forgiveness, mercy and grace. If not now, when else can we practice what we preach!.
Joseph’s Response
Consider Joseph. When he discovered that Mary was pregnant, the most natural conclusion was betrayal. He had every legal and cultural right to expose her. Public shaming would have been justified in the eyes of the law. But Joseph chose another way. He resolved to step back quietly. No spectacle. No naming and shaming. No moral theatre. His restraint was not weakness, it was righteousness. The only reason he acted at all was obedience to God, not a hunger to be proven righteous.
God’s Response
Now let us pause and look at God’s pattern, not ours. Scripture tells us of a man who lived long ago, a man God Himself called “a man after My own heart.” God lifted him from anonymity, from tending sheep, from running for his life, and seated him on a throne as king. That man abused his power. He took another man’s wife and arranged her husband’s death. He lived in deception for over a year, continuing his public duties as if nothing had happened. If ever there was a case for permanent disqualification, this was it. And yet, when confronted and broken in repentance, God did something amazing. He forgave him. Not only that, God allowed him to continue to write and minister. God published his prayers, poems, and songs, not in an obscure appendix, but at the very heart of Scripture. Thousands of years later, God did not introduce him primarily as “the adulterer” or “the murderer”. God remembered him as David and the ultimate honour; Jesus Himself was called the Son of David. This does not minimise David’s sin. It magnifies God’s mercy. God did not pretend the sin never happened, but He also refused to let sin have the final word. He always has the final word, in all things. He is God,…remember? Sovereign and supreme.
….And Now Us
How do we respond when someone else falls? Do we forward the news under the banner of “discernment” while spreading gossip? Do we disguise curiosity as concern?
Do we host prayer meetings and Bible studies that quietly feed on scandal; a hot coffee, a cold heart, a cynical mind and caustic remarks. We say, “He let us down.” But I ask, what promise did he ever make to you? We act betrayed, as if our faith was anchored in a man rather than in Christ. This is not a call to excuse sin. This is not a plea to ignore accountability. But it is a warning: that while we point out that he failed to guard his heart, we must guard our own hearts from becoming ‘Pharisaical’. “God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.” (Luke 18:9-14 NIV). Jesus says the tax collector went home justified, while the religious man went home condemned.
A fallen preacher should cause fear, not fascination. Tears, not triumph. Self-examination, not self-exaltation. Because when a brother falls, the real question is not “How could he?” . That is between God and him.
The real question is: “What does my response reveal about the state of my own heart?”