Last week we considered the distant howls from the wolves of cancel culture. We will get back to that eventually. But given the news about Ravi Zacharias, the next few posts will be about fallen leaders.
In my idealistic 20’s, given the PTL scandals, I was flabbergasted: “How could anyone live with themselves if they brought such shame upon the Kingdom?”
In my 30’s, with new failures surfacing, my thought was, “What were they thinking? How does this even make sense?”
In my 40’s, I asked fewer questions and began to understand.
My 50’s? “Wow, that so could have been me!”
At 63, I look back and sigh with resignation, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”[1] Truly.
We look to role models. We cherish heroes. They give us hope and embolden us. But how disheartening it is when they fall. And for some reason, it is especially disappointing when it is sexual failure.
In the counseling I’ve done, I’ve noticed two extremes among those who have affairs or who descend the slippery slope of sexual addiction: Puppy Dogs and Predators.[2]
We love puppies, don’t we? They are so excited to see us. They wag and whimper adoringly, lick your hand, and want their bellies rubbed. So very cute . . . unless, in their emotional neediness, they pee on your shoes.
And some people are like that as they fall to their sexual desires. Whether their marriage is in the ditch, they are overwhelmed with stress, or a combination of factors, puppy dogs simply want to feel loved. And that parishioner, colleague or staff member who adores them, begins to get their attention.
Burnout, emotional neediness, and deficits in love and appreciation, can all combine to create enormous vulnerability. This is why so often the boundaries training that pastors receive includes the issue of taking care of oneself. And in the tempting moment, the Evil One is crouching at the door, making us feel as though somehow we deserve to cross the line—even if just a tiny bit.
As for Predators, they are need-driven as well. Just a different set of needs. Usually power or significance.
One young man I counseled had defrauded dozens of young Christian women. It was a matter of conquest for him. But as we drilled down deep, he could see it was driven by his anger toward his dad—a Christian leader who simply had too little time for family.
Regardless of what needs are driving it, breaking covenants, crossing boundaries and manipulating positions of power are all sinful and destructive. We absolutely know this in our saner moments. But oh, how our vision gets clouded in the “fog of war”.
I learned of Ravi Zacharias’ abuse back in January. Read the news right before bedtime and didn’t sleep well. The accusations spilled out posthumously in September. Thankfully the news channels were clogged with election antics, so the scandal flew under the radar. But until the accusations were officially confirmed last week, he stood as a champion of the faith. His delivery was spellbinding. His reasoning astute.
But the man owned a massage parlor, and had unseemly habits overseas. I won’t go into the sordid details, but from what pieces I’ve read, he seemed to exhibit elements of both Puppy Dog and Predator. Maybe it depended upon his mood. Or perhaps he played either role, depending upon what he thought would get him what he wanted. Nonetheless, he used his position and power to abuse and manipulate.
Bear with me as I go back to the well-worn story of King David. We’ve heard dozens of sermons about his “affair” with Bathsheba. In recent years, his actions have been viewed from the angle of abuse of power. He lusted. He wanted. He used his position of power to have her. And she could not say no. All true.
And yet we still learn from him and value his wisdom. Feet of clay? Yes. But to our amazement, still viewed by God as a man after his own heart. Even to this day, we pray his psalms and admire the shepherd boy with the sling.
As for Zacharias, it seemed there was no intellectual Goliath who could bring down this Indian-born “shepherd boy” from Canada. But right now, if you listen carefully, you can hear his books dropping into trashcans around the country. While “I told you so’s” are shouted in social media, some evangelicals are disowning any association with his legacy. But is that the right attitude? Can we not, as with the Davidic Psalms, own the truth while acknowledging the brokenness of the messenger?
Maybe.
The main theme of this blog is to ever keep before us the people who are drowning in the flood of sexual filth that is flooding our culture. And let us be absolutely clear that some of the tsunami wreckage was wrought by this evangelist.
There are massage therapists in Atlanta and, frankly, in many countries around the world, who were manipulated and abused by Ravi Zacharias. Period.
Whether they fell to his puppy dog neediness, or were subject to the intimidation of an extremely commanding predatory presence, they were victims.
There is much to learn from Zacharias’ writings and teachings. The stench of arrogance need not devalue the gold of truth. But we must especially learn from his unrepentant abuse of power.
When contrasting David with this evangelist, one thing stands out clearly to me. Both abused power, but one man repented.
Zacharias had his Nathan. A clear and credible accusation came before the leadership of the Christian & Missionary Alliance—the denomination that had credentialed and endorsed his ministry. But he vehemently denied any wrongdoing and blamed the victim.
But when Nathan boldly stuck his finger in the face of his king, David melted. He owned it. He fasted and wept. In fact, one of the sons born to him and Bathsheba was named after that very prophet. (1 Chron. 3:5) Amazing, really.
As you well know, David wrote Psalm 51 as his prayer of contrition. Note the first three words preceding verse 1: “To the choirmaster.” (ESV) As if David handed a manuscript to the choir leader and said, “Hey, you know, someone else might identify with this. So let’s sing about my infidelity right here as we worship.” Incredible.
No doubt this level of repentance is why God continued to say, “That was a man after my own heart!”
Had Ravi Zacharias humbled himself, owned his sin, sought help, and found healing and renewal, what a message of apologetics his life would have been!
If we hold to truth delivered only by faultless women and men, our libraries will be empty. But we can learn from this to understand more clearly the dynamics of abuse, the need to minister to the broken, and to recognize that there, but for the grace of God, go all!
[1] From a famous deceased Brit. Probably Chesterton, Lewis, or Burke. Or John Cleese? (Nah. “He’s not quite dead, yet.”)
[2] Look for a fuller description of these dynamics in my next book: Purity of Heart: Banding Together for Sexual Wholeness (Seedbed Publishing, Spring of 2021).
To learn more about the dynamics of adultery and abuse, purchase Into the Light: Healing Sexuality in Today’s Church.