Wow! Its been a year since I last blogged! And in that space of time, I’ve finally served my time and am able to move on. And the “moving on” part has really happened at warp speed. All that weight I lost while being incarcerated has pretty much been regained, so I can honestly say that I have managed to recover all that I have lost over the past year.
But what prompted me to again pen my words here has been the shocking saga with regards to Ravi Zacharias. He had one of the deepest impacts on my faith, as he was the one who challenged me to think deeper and more critically about my beliefs. And to learn of his many misdemeanours which dwarfs even mine was at the same time so mind-blowingly shocking and yet at the same time not at all surprising.
This is not an easy piece of writing as I am aware how much it can come across as being self-justification or even self pity. However, I find myself being unable to couch it in a more political form, simply because what I felt towards the issue is so strongly visceral, and not merely an exercise in my thought process.
I felt sick to the stomach.
Both towards Ravi, as well as for the vitriol that inevitably followed.
I felt sick to the stomach at Ravi’s actions because it gave me a very strong insight into how much my own actions must have betrayed the trust of so many. Having been at the same end of the shock and dismay that many must have felt when they realised what I did, I can finally say that to some extent, I know how they felt. And yet, I also felt a very strong sense of empathy towards both him and his family, myself having also joined the burgeoning cast of Fallen-Christian-Hypocrites/Monsters.
Having once been a worship leader who passionately embraced the words I sang, I found myself for the past few years being absolutely unable to participate in the worship. I was unable to do so because I was unable to resolve the dissonance of hearing a congregation so passionately extol grace and forgiveness, and make so little effort at reaching out to the fallen leaders. How many in the congregation would ever again speak kindly of Ravi or recall how he has helped them, I wonder. Or even to make any kind of positive reference to Khong Hee and how his ministry also had many things we all could learn from? How many in my ex-church would ever again speak kindly of me, if I am a name that even gets mentioned? (Perhaps I have already become He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the circle.) Its as if everything we’ve ever done was negated because we did something that apparently God expected us to do – fall short.
Again, I feel it bears repeating that the victims of my offences must be excused from this consideration. In fact, I only wish it was possible to cast me forever from their memory, lest it brings them only more pain each time I am recalled.
I find myself musing how the Bible would have turned out if David had lived in this era. After the exposure of his affair with Bathsheba had resulted in him murdering her husband to conceal his own sins, does anyone reckon there would be any future to his leadership? In today’s world, he would have been hauled up before a jury and sentenced for his crimes, forever stripped of his position as a spiritual leader and shamed beyond redemption. Of course, I’m not saying its right he got away with adultery and murder (and maybe even rape). Who’s to say Bathesheba didn’t feel pressured to give in to David as he was the king? Certainly the #metoo movement would have had a field day with him, eager to paint Bathsheba as a victim of David’s predatory instincts.
What would therefore have happened to all the other things David did in his lifetime after his transgressions? I’m sure some would argue that God could easily have raised up another to carry on the work He has planned. And of course that’s true. But perhaps there’s a reason why God didn’t raise up another leader and bring down David?
Bill Hybels was similarly accused of many an indiscretion, and eventually accelerated his retirement. If he had displayed the kind of repentance that David displayed, would a few more chapters in his leadership at Willow Creek have been possible? Or would he more likely have been vilified beyond redemption, condemned to forever be known as a Fallen-Christian-Hypocrite/Monster?
I was very much dismayed that every Christian leader and every article I read on the internet seemed to address how much Ravi’s actions shocked them, left them bitterly disappointed, and then concluded with another caution that it could happen to any of us. None of what they wrote was wrong – but it contained not an iota of forgiveness in their writings. There was talk of judgment before God, there was talk of their disappointment at his duplicity and lack of remorse, and there was a lot of talk about how Christians need to beware how insidious sin is in creeping up into even the best there is out there. But there was not a single kind word of the good he did in the past, other than as a reference to highlight his deceitfulness. There was no encouragement to show concern for his family and commendation on how hard they’re trying to make things right even though it wasn’t a mess they had made. RZIM as an organization is finished despite all the good work everyone else in it had done.
It also seems that many in the Christian circle are fixated with how Ravi seemed to display a total lack of remorse regarding his actions. And of course, everyone therefore feels he does not deserve forgiveness from the community. Instinctively, that feels both natural and right. But if we take a closer look at the gospel, is that what we see? Does the father wait for the prodigal son to deliver the grovelling speech he prepared before welcoming him back to the house? Did God wait for us to repent before He chose to die for us? Yet somehow we have taken it upon ourselves to do better than God, and set a hgher standard before deciding if someone deserves forgiveness.
I find myself asking how Jesus would look down on this spectacle and feel? Would he be satisfied that His church had adequately spoken up for the Truth and defended the church? Or would it pain Him to realise that so many people remain so very eager to cast the first stone?
In the time that I have been in CEFC since my fall, I have had a lot of time to look at the church from the other side. And it has been a sobering experience. I’ve come to realise finally why some call Christians arrogant and out of touch with reality. It wasn’t because I was seeking to find a different social circle to belong in, as I still do not identify myself as a non-believer (tho I have even been told in my face that I am effectively a non-Christian already!). I still very much believe that God is the same God that He is before my fall. I still believe He’s very real, and I believe everything about HIM that I always believed in. I only question if He ever chose me to belong to Him in the first place.
However, I no longer have any faith left in the church. Perhaps, ironically, I am guilty of the same thing that I wrote about here. As much as my actions have grieved the church and caused them to no longer believe anything good about me, the last 4 years have left me bitterly disappointed in the church, and I no longer find myself being able to believe in it anymore. As breakups go, this seems to be as final as it can get.
