The sad thing is, I don’t have to give any context for that first paragraph to feel current. Whether it’s a pastor or a popular conference speaker, an author or a musical artist, it seems like a week can’t go by without news of a fresh scandal in Christianity.

Having spent my entire life in the church and approaching 15 years as a pastor, this isn’t just a theoretical exercise for me. I personally know people who were forced out of ministry because of a scandal. And yes, even years later, it still pisses me off to consider the trust they broke, the faithful people they hoodwinked (including myself), and the lives they imploded by chasing their lusts, greed, and desire for power.

But this isn’t about them, it’s about us: the people left behind to pick up the pieces after the bomb goes off. It’s about learning to hold onto faith in a God that is good, while wrapping our minds around the fact that someone who claimed to represent Him could be so bad.

What follows are five truths I’ve learned to trust, and act on, in the aftermath of a faith leader’s fall from grace—whether the hurt is decades old or from last week.

(Disclaimer: This article is written from the perspective of someone affected by the failure, but not personally wronged by the faith leader. If you fall into the second camp, let me start by saying I’m incredibly sorry that someone representing a God of love, justice, and protection did the exact opposite to you. Your path to healing is likely a much longer one, but there is hope. God is close to the oppressed and brokenhearted. Keep chasing your healing, it is worth it.)

When Faith Leaders Fail: 5 Things To Remember

1) GOD WILL JUDGE THEM

This might be the only scenario when the “J” word is welcome. And rightfully so. We are people who crave justice, and Scripture is clear that God is the ultimate source of that, especially when harm comes at the hand of someone bearing his name.

While on earth, Jesus spent plenty of time addressing the hypocrisy and harm of the Pharisees—religious teachers who often used their position in society for their own betterment. He called them hypocrites, children of Hell, and white-washed tombs full of dead men’s bones. He accused them of shutting the door to the kingdom of God in people’s faces, of piling religious weight on the backs of the common people, and using their position to devour widows.

Priestly vestments can’t disguise sin forever. While a church leader may fool congregants, God will not be mocked. His anger against clerical abuse is something to be feared, and can be found throughout the Bible.

In the Old Testament, the prophet Jeremiah spoke about God’s coming punishment over the abusive “shepherds” of His people: “Woe to the shepherds who are destroying and scattering the sheep of my pasture! … Because you have scattered my flock and driven them away and have not bestowed care on them, I will bestow punishment on you for the evil you have done” (Jeremiah 23:1-2). Jump to the New Testament, and early church leader James explains that not many people should presume to be teachers because they will be judged more severely (James 3:1). Paul, the missionary who wrote much of the New Testament, explains that he even handed some leaders “over to Satan” because they had shipwrecked their faith (1 Timothy 1:18-20). I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it doesn’t sound good.

We live in an imperfect world, where not every wrong is addressed. Sometimes, the guilty get off. But escaping punishment on this planet does not mean the offenders will be held guiltless when they come face-to-face with the God whose every way is justice (Deuteronomy 32:4).

There is freedom for us here. Because we can trust that God’s justice will win the day, we can let go of our desire to seek it by our own means. God’s justice is perfect and without fault. Ours, even when well-meaning, is short-sighted and flawed. We just can’t see the whole picture the way God does. Part of our own healing is leaving justice in his hands. When we do that, we can let go of everything that would end up poisoning us in the end—from bitterness and gossip, to slander, feeding cancel-culture, or flat-out acts of revenge.

There is a time to be angry, to be hurt, and to lament. The Psalms are full of this vulnerability before God. But healing can begin when we entrust our pain—and yes, even the perpetrators of it—to God. His hands will bring justice; ours can be put to better use.

“Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord” … Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:19, 21)

2) IT COULD HAVE BEEN ME

As the anger subsides, a startling realization begins to take root: that faith leader, with the catastrophic failure … it could have been me.

That’s not to diminish the pain they caused, the wounds they opened, and the disastrous effect their sin can have on the lives of others. All of those things can be true, and, at the same time, we have to recognize that none of us stand on the moral high ground.

Scripture says that Jesus came to earth full of grace and truth. We like the grace part, especially when it applies to our own shortcomings. The truth? That’s a little harder to stomach, especially when the truth about us is uncomfortable—like the fact that none of us are righteous (Romans 3:23), we are stubborn and rebellious by nature (Exodus 32:9), and that we can be dangerously self-deceptive about the state of our own brokenness (1 John 1:8-10).

It’s easy to throw stones at a faith leader with a moral failing, but following Jesus means having to let those stones fall from our hands. According to Jesus, it isn’t good enough to have not committed adultery; we also have to root out lust. It isn’t impressive to avoid murder if your heart is full of hate. It isn’t helpful to see the sin in someone else’s life and miss the sin in your own. In other words, Jesus raises the bar, every single time. And none of us can clear it on our own.

Presented with the same life experiences, given the same level of access, and wrestling with the same temptations, it is possible that you (or I) could have fallen into the same trap that ensnared the latest disgraced faith leader. None of us are above anything. This mindset allows us to condemn the sin that anyone else might have in their life, while at the same time holding compassion for them. We’re all broken people.

For the self-righteous, someone else’s sin is an opportunity for leverage over them. But for someone whose heart is soft to God, a public sin is a chance to reexamine our own lives—that sin might become so abrasive to us that seeing it in someone else’s life would cause us to bemoan our own.

It is possible to be disgusted by sin and be compassionate at the same time. In fact, that’s God’s response to us. And the more we are conformed into the image of God’s own son, the more it can become our own response as well.

“As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:13-14)

3) PRAYER IS LOVE IN ACTION

Jesus was pretty clear about how we should respond to those who have let us down, taken advantage of us, or broken our trust.

“Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven” (Matthew 5:44-45).

This is much easier to do when you’ve walked through steps one and two—when you leave judgment in God’s hands, and remember in humility that you have something in common with even the worst of sinners. The kindest thing you can do—the most loving, the most charitable, the most Christ-like—is to pray for those who have let you down. It’s exactly what Jesus did.

In Luke 22, Jesus’ life is bearing down on the cross. Judas has agreed to betray him; the last supper has occurred, and just before leaving to face his captors, Jesus pulls one of his best friends, Peter, aside. He says something incredibly surprising.

“Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32).

By the end of that same chapter, Peter will deny knowing Jesus on three separate occasions, marking one of the greatest faith leader failings in all of Scripture. Before the sin even occurred, Jesus had prayed for Peter. He went to the Father on his friend’s behalf, asking that his faith not fail, and that he be restored in order to strengthen the other disciples.

We don’t have the foresight of Jesus to know about a failure before it happens, but we certainly can pray in the aftermath of one. The Bible is clear that those prayers matter—that we should pray for our leaders (1 Timothy 2:1-2), that we should strive for those caught in sin to be freed from it (Galatians 6:1-2), that confession and prayer is connected to healing (James 5:16), and that our prayers have great power (also James 5:16).

While a fallen faith leader has likely disqualified themselves from any further leadership in the church (and for good reason), their sin does not have to define the rest of their lives. Even when it is difficult, those of us committed to following Christ can make the hard, self-sacrificial move—and pray.

Frankly, I think the words you say are less important than the intention that God sees when you take the time to pray for someone who, by human standards, might not deserve it. If you’re struggling with what to pray, I can empathize with you. There are some helpful examples here, or you can try one of these prompts on for size:

Pray for the fallen leader to have a soft heart, to repent of their sin, to take ownership of the pain they have caused, and to do what is necessary to bring healing to the situation.
Pray for those directly hurt by the leader’s actions. Pray for the extended families of all involved. Pray for both God’s justice and his kindness to win the day. Pray for God’s work to continue through tragedy, and for hurting people to come to him with their pain.

Prayer isn’t a last resort or a feeble attempt to help. Prayer is love in action. It not only changes those we are praying for, but it changes us. And it could make all the difference.

“If you see any brother or sister commit a sin that does not lead to death, you should pray and God will give them life.” (1 John 5:16)

4) CYNICISM IS A THIEF

When you burn your hand, your brain reacts quickly. Before you even have time to consider what you’re doing, your muscles will have contracted to not only pull your hand away from the heat source, but also to clutch it close to your chest. It’s a survival instinct. And it’s the easiest thing to do when we’ve been emotionally or spiritually hurt as well.

In the aftermath of a faith leader’s failure, it’s natural to need time to regroup, to establish boundaries and guardrails, and to limit exposure. What you have to guard against, though, is the cynicism that can easily take root at the same time.

Cynical people, of course, never think they’re cynical. They just believe they’re being wise, or safe, or discerning. The question we must confront, though, is how much that safety is worth—is there a price too high?

In chasing safety, cynicism will tempt you to pull back from all faith communities. It will leave you questioning all faith leaders. It will give you an eye for ulterior motives behind every corner. It will whisper that the Church can’t be trusted; faith is a sham; everything is a financial game; and Jesus is just as shifty as the con artists who parade around in his name.

At its core, cynicism is a lack of trust—that people can be honest, that God can be good, and that life can get better

In his book, The Four Loves, author C.S. Lewis writes about the risk of love. For our purposes, I think the word “trust” works just as well.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal…. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.

To be sure, the answer to cynicism isn’t toxic positivity. And it isn’t to blindly trust everyone, and so open yourself to hurt again. Instead, it is to learn the disciplines outlined in Scripture that lead to joy.

That is because cynicism and joy cannot coexist. One will always drive out the other. Joy trusts, even in hardship. Cynicism doubts, even in good times. Joy finds reasons to keep moving. Cynicism puts down roots, refusing to budge. Joy looks forward to better days. Cynicism looks back to days that will never be as good as they once were. Joy is curious. Cynicism is apathetic.

How do you grow joy? The Bible says to focus your thoughts on those things that are good, honorable, and pure (Philippians 4:8), to be careful about the words you let come out of your mouth (Ephesians 4:29), to put away all bitterness, wrath, and slander (Ephesians 4:31), to keep meeting together and encouraging each other (Hebrews 10:24-25), and to find ways to be in God’s presence, where there is fullness of joy (Psalm 16:11).

The easiest move might be to retreat, but that isn’t the best plan in the long run. In his letter to the Romans, Paul explains that the qualities of endurance, encouragement, and hope are naturally developed in the lives of people who are strong, refusing to run away when the going gets tough. Since you’ve made it this far, I’ll say it—you’re one of the strong ones. Punch cynicism in the mouth, before it steals from you again.

“We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please our neighbors for their good, to build them up… so that through the endurance taught in the scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.” (Romans 15:1-2, 4)

5) FAITH IS BUILT ON CHRIST ALONE

This truth is the most important, a foundation you can build the rest of your life on. While God is kind to include humans in his work of redemption, our faith is built solely on Christ and the work he has done, is doing, and will do.

It is hard to admit, but the failure of faith leaders has the power to rock us precisely because we are naturally idolatrous people. The human heart is constantly looking for something, or someone, to worship. It’s why we fawn over everything from sports teams to romantic partners, movie stars to culture influencers. And yes, even religious leaders.

But no matter how great the leadership or Bible teaching, no matter how life-changing the music or the best-selling book, these (all too often) moments of clarity—when another faith leader falls by the wayside—are an opportunity to refocus our attention on the only One worthy to have it in the first place.

Christ is the King; everyone else is merely a servant. This is precisely the position taken by Paul, our favorite letter-writing missionary. After planting churches all over the Mediterranean, he began to find that some followers of Jesus were more proud of who brought them to faith than the one in whom their faith was placed.

“For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not being merely human? What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth.” (1 Corinthians 3:4-7)

Scripture drives this nail again and again, because it is so easy for us to let it slip. It describes Jesus as the founder and perfector of our faith (Hebrews 12:1-2), the only way to the Father (John 14:6), the advocate who paid our debt before God (1 John 2:1-2), and the trusted cornerstone upon which our lives can be built (Ephesians 2:19-22).

Remembering this, I can take the lessons that Pastor X taught me about patterning my life after Jesus’, while separating myself from the choices he made later in life that tanked his family and ministry. I can be grateful for the trust that X placed in me as a young student pastor, while also condemning the choices he made in secret, years later, that wrecked the church we worked to build. I can love X for the countless ways he added to my life and effectiveness as a pastor, while praying for his freedom from the addiction that disqualified him.

In the strongest words possible, I condemn the actions of those ministers. On the other side of the scandals, I can see how, in ways small and large, I had come to idolize each of them. But the truly remarkable thing about each one—the teaching, the trust, the friendship—wasn’t really about them in the first place. It was merely a reflection of God’s goodness in their lives. Instead of putting them on a pedestal, it should have increased my affection for the God who gave them those gifts in the first place.

God might have used a faith leader to do good things in your life, but the gratitude should always reflect the true source—to the Giver of all good gifts.

Jesus is our king, our salvation, our advocate. Everyone else is just a servant.

WHAT IS THAT TO YOU? FOLLOW ME

At the end of the day, though a faith leader’s choice might have rocked us to the core, our responsibility is to ourselves—and to the God who called us to follow him.

After His resurrection, Jesus appeared to Peter on the shore of a lake. They had breakfast together, and Jesus forgave him for the grievous three-time denial that had occurred just days earlier. Looking up, Peter saw John, another disciple, coming toward them on the shoreline. Perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps out of competition, he asked Jesus what would happen to John. Jesus, always the smartest person in the room, didn’t take the bait.

“When Peter saw [John], he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “… What is that to you? You follow me!” (John 21:21-22)

I believe Jesus would say the same thing to us today. While we must wrestle with the failures of faith leaders in our lives, the call of the Messiah remains the same: Do not worry about their future, it is in My hands. Instead, you follow Me.

To do that requires that we place all judgment in God’s hands; that in humility we recognize and deal with our own shortcomings; that we pray for God’s kingdom to advance; that we develop a joy that chokes out cynicism; and that we build our lives on the unshakeable foundation of our King, and not his servants.

When you do that, you might find the failure of a faith leader—instead of being a death knell to your own faith—is actually the rainy season that allowed it to grow.

Disclaimer: This article is 100% human-generated.

Reflections to share? Got an idea for an article? Email us at articles@crossroads.net

At Crossroads, we major on the majors and minor on the minors. We welcome a diverse community of people who all agree that Jesus is Lord and Savior, even if they view minor theological and faith topics in different ways based on their unique experiences. Our various authors embody that principle, and we approach you, our reader, in the same fashion. You don’t have to agree with every detail of any article you see here to be part of this community or pursue faith. Chances are even our whole staff doesn’t even agree with every detail of what you just read. We are okay with that tension. And we think God is okay with that, too. The foundation of everything we do is a conviction that the Bible is true and that accepting Jesus is who he said he is leads to a healthy life of purpose and adventure—and eternal life with God.