When Great Men Fail

As my blog readers know, I grew up attending a somewhat famous church in Philadelphia. Manning the pulpit at the time was Dr. James M. Boice. A prolific author and speaker, his works continue to influence my life to this day. After my mother passed away in 1989, my father and I moved out of the area and stopped attending. Jim passed away in 2000. In the intervening years, he had two successors, the latter of whom resigned amid a scandal that rocked the church to its very core. I discovered this by accident when I visited the church’s website, as I occasionally do, to keep abreast of developments at the church. A long-time friend had been on staff since I was a member. Over the years, we kept in touch sporadically via email. He was an associate pastor, and I considered him a Christian role model, the kind of believer I aspired to be. To my surprise, I discovered he was no longer with the church. Although he was not complicit in the scandal involving the senior pastor, he nevertheless got dragged into it. Things worked out, I suppose, as he was able to retire and move closer to one of his children.

Recalling the memories of my youth spent in a church flourishing with faith and dedicated believers, it was difficult to imagine this once bastion of Christianity had its foundation shaken in such a public, shameful manner. How could this be? Furthermore, how could someone who, from all accounts, had such a close walk with God so much so as to be my self-designated Christian mentor fall from grace? These questions plagued me for quite some time and caused me to question the validity of Christianity and faith. If these men, who were presumably called by God to lead the church, to occupy positions of leadership, and whom I considered to be worthy of emulation, could fail, what hope was there for average believers like me?

As I wrestled with these questions, I considered some of the great men of the Bible. In particular, I studied David. Condensing the story in 2 Samuel 12, David committed adultery with Bathsheba, and to make matters worse, arranged for her husband to die in battle. Afterward, he took her as his wife. Ironically, Jesus descended from David’s bloodline. During my Christian journey, I have discovered many believers view sin as if on a sliding scale. On the lower end, there are things like lying and gossiping, while the opposite end is comprised of atrocities such as murder. Other sins are sprinkled in the middle. Often this is done to appease oneself and provide reassurance that although one is guilty of sin, that sin in no way compares to the egregious ones at the far end of the scale. I suppose it’s reasonable, given the modern legal system, to view sin in such a manner. After all, some crimes like speeding result in citation. More serious infractions are classified as misdemeanors, and the most serious are felonies. The level of punishment is typically commensurate with the seriousness of the infraction. This may be true for criminal matters. However, such is not the case with spiritual ones. 

You see, God hates all sin. There are no little sins in His eyes. All sin is disobedience, plain and simple. If you disobey God, you sin. And as Paul admonished, “The wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23). Notice he didn’t say the wages of egregious sins is death. No. The wages of all sin is death. One crime, one punishment. As difficult as it is to believe, David disobeyed God. But how? Didn’t he have favor with God? What happened? Well, far be it from me to read into the Bible and speculate. What I will say is David was uniquely human, and that quality makes us all susceptible to temptation regardless of how closely we might walk with God. None of us is above reproach. The great theologian and pastor, R.C. Sproul, once commented, “We’re not sinners because we sin; we sin because we’re sinners.” In other words, sin is in our nature. We are born into it. No matter how much we try to avoid it, we cannot evade it forever. At some point, we are going to sin. Now that doesn’t mean we have a free pass. Certainly not. We should do our best to be Christ-like and live according to God’s Word. 

Jesus commanded, “You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind” (Matthew 22:23). We should strive to keep all of God’s commands, which is a life-long challenge for believers. You see, once we come to faith in Christ, we have a target on our backs. We’re Satan’s enemies from that day forward. I would go so far as to say that those with the most potential in the Kingdom of Heaven are primary targets. Those called to serve in the church, those who have been given spiritual gifts, and those who lead top our adversary’s list. Is it any wonder David was tempted? As I worked my way through this, I realized I (falsely) had unrealistic expectations of those I regarded as spiritual mentors. I expected them to be less human than biblical heroes, less human than me. I believed they were somehow impervious to the “big” sins, as it were. Oh, sure, I knew they were sinners, but I didn’t regard them as sinners like me. How could they be such sinners and still be called to serve in the church and lead others? That’s when I realized they were no different than me. We all possess the capacity to sin. We are all human and require a savior. We are all sinners in need of forgiveness. James admonished, “Therefore, confess your sins one to another and pray for one another, that you may be healed” (James 5:16). Indeed, we should pray for one another, especially for those who serve in the church. 

Yes, great men fail. All men fail. Not for a lack of trying or devotion, but because “all have sinned and fallen short of God’s glory” (Romans 3:23). Sin is part of the human equation. Forgiveness is what it means to have salvation. Let us confess our sin to one another and to God that we may be healed and forgiven!