Fallen Pastor

Debbie was enjoying her new life in Christ. She had come to know Christ through a women’s bible study she had been invited to by a friend. Her past was dotted with alcohol, drug use, and some pretty crazy moments. She knew she didn’t have the best reputation in the community, but for the past few weeks, thanks to Christ and thanks to the supportive women in her bible study group, she felt a new peace and sense of direction.

She had slowly been able to put the past behind her and feel like the “new person” that Paul wrote about in the bible. One of her friends suggested to her that they try attending church.  Her friend told her that worship was a pretty important part of being a Christian and getting “plugged in” was the next step. She had also said that being baptized was important and that a church would talk to her about that.

Debbie wasn’t sure about any of that. It was a small town and everyone knew her – or so it seemed. It was like everyone over the age of 50 had witnessed her rebellious teenage life, her post-high school career with its mistakes and even her DUI. She felt uncomfortable with the idea of going into any public gathering where people could see her, especially where her peers were. Heck, she even felt uncomfortable shopping at Wal-Mart sometimes. It seemed like there was always someone pointing at her, or a perceived whisper.

Her friend assured her that with her new life, her repentance, that all of that was behind her. Her friend told her that this was a progressive church that welcomed everyone, that everyone was wonderful. Debbie would of course be welcomed with open arms.

Debbie decided to give it a try. She was glad to hear of the casual dress policy but leaned towards something business minded anyway that Sunday. Her friend picked her up that Sunday morning and she was nervous.

When they walked in, there was a welcoming station where she got some information and the first few people were kind. A lot of people talked to her friend first then she was introduced to them. Some of these people were newer to the community and wouldn’t know her.

Then she saw the first one. Someone she knew from long ago – with the accompanying sneer. It was a girl she had gone to high school with. She was a woman now who had two young children with her. The woman looked Debbie up and down and then herded her two children in the other direction as if Debbie would spew venom on them.

Debbie decided to chalk this wordless conversation up to a misconception on her part. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe the woman had a facial tic.

She snapped out of her thoughts when her friend was introducing her to a man named Dan, who apparently was one of the church leaders. Dan had a shocked look for a moment then he said, “Debbie?” He paused then said, “What are you doing here?”

Debbie said, “I came to know Christ recently and my friend invited me here.”

Dan was distressed. Debbie knew why. They had been friends in high school and after. Dan had done some of the same things she had. He was comfortable here but wasn’t comfortable having her here.

Debbie’s friend said, “Dan, where’s your wife? I’d like to introduce them.”

Dan said quickly, “She’s here somewhere, gotta run, nice to meet you.”

The rest of the Sunday went at a pace like that. Some people were kind and friendly. They were the ones who had no idea who Debbie was or what she had done in her past. Then there were those who knew of her past sin and either didn’t approach her, or when they did, viewed her in contempt.

At the end of the service, Debbie was disheartened. Is this what the people of God were like? Holding on to people’s sin and not forgetting them? She was about to fill out the comment card she was given with her exact thoughts when she heard someone yelling, “Debbie!” from down the hall.

At first she didn’t recognize the woman. As she got closer, she recognized Michelle. In high school, she was a quiet thing, always keeping to herself. Michelle didn’t have many friends and there were probably a few times that Debbie had said a few rude things to her.

Michelle came right up and hugged her, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Really?” Debbie said.

Michelle said, “I know we didn’t really know each other well in high school, but I always thought you were a neat person.”

“Me?” Debbie said. “I made a lot of mistakes.

Michelle said, “Yeah, I know. But we all have. I heard you gave your heart to Christ. That’s great. I had an awful home life growing up. When I finally got out, I made a lot of mistakes of my own. But God extended His grace to me. And now, here you are too. And it’s going to be fine. Listen, I don’t have much time to talk now, but here’s my number. Let’s have lunch this week.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” Debbie said.

As she walked out the door, Debbie felt her heart pick up a bit as she thought about that final encounter.

I was so thankful yesterday to get a Facebook inbox message from a friend who was concerned about the current argument in America over gay marriage. Like many Christians, she was concerned about the moral failure of the country. She had been watching Facebook and so have I. I too, have seen many comments like, “Why don’t people see what Scripture says?”

I’ll be honest. I don’t watch television news. For a good reason. It’s only purpose seems to be to rile people up over things that are insignificant. You get stressed out. I mentioned in an online magazine recently how watching TV news in a constant flow caused my mother anxiety.

She said she read my blog occasionally and never saw me write anything about the issue. I don’t. My blog is about fallen

Pic courtesy of PBS

pastors, mostly. Then, I write about issues secondary to that. Then, after that, I write about what tickles my fancy. I don’t avoid the big issues. I’ve written about big issues before, but they’re just not on the radar of what I do.

My response to her was probably not what she expected, but I hope it was biblical. (She did thank me for the sermon ) I want to post it here then add some comments after. Here it is, verbatim:

Here is what I would say. And I pray it’s the biblical thing, because any response of my own would be wrong.

I’d take it back to the apostle Paul who wrote to a church that was probably going through more moral decay than we are, if you can imagine. In his time, it wasn’t just the culture, it was members of the church who were declining in morality. Members of the church were going up to the pagan temple and sleeping with temple prostitutes.

Paul was surrounded by a pagan Roman culture that was filled with violence, sex, child molestation, and hedonism – and all of it was legal. But Paul didn’t write against the evil around him in the world. He wrote about the sin within the church. He says something interesting in 1 Corinthians 5:

Please take time to read more important stuff after the jump:

There’s a little interaction between people that really needs to go away. I don’t even know why it exists in the culture. Let me give you a few examples. You’re probably aware of it. You might even be guilty of it:

Example 1

Example 2

Example 3

You get the picture. You may be like me. Person #2 whose immediate reaction is one of compassion and the response is, “I’m sorry.” It’s a shortened way of saying, “I’m sorry to hear about your terrible situation. I hope it gets better.”

So why in the world do people think that we are taking some sort of responsibility for their plight? Really, we’re just looking for something like, “Thanks.” Not as in, “Oh, thank you for falling all over yourself to feel bad for me.” But more like, “I appreciate your empathy.”

But maybe the problem lies with those of us who are person #2. Maybe we aren’t being clear. I’ve heard some great grieving experts say that one of the best and most heartfelt responses we can give is, “You must be hurting a lot going through that.” At the same time, showing them true empathy and taking the time to identify with them.

But before we make that shift in human dialogue, maybe both sides can come to terms. Really, what one side wants is a short way to express their empathy, but do it in a heart felt manner. The other side wants to be heard. Is it possible? Ideas are welcome.

I’ve got a fallen pastor friend that I’ve grown close to. I don’t think he reads my blog, but I hope he does. He has gone through some of the same issues I went through three and a half years ago when I fell from ministry when I committed adultery.

He fell a while back from his place of ministry. He called several months ago and we had a conversation I won’t forget:

Him: “I know you’ll be able to identify with me on this. At least I think you will. You’re the only one who seems to understand what I’m going through.”

Me: “Go for it.”

Him: “Since my wife and I divorced a while back, I’ve been seeing someone. Everything is going great, you know? I feel like despite everything, life is good. I couldn’t work things out with my wife. We tried, but we moved on. I have been working things out with God. I’m cautiously seeing this woman. I’m part of a church and that’s going well. But…”

Me: “Let me guess. You feel like the bottom is about to drop out because you don’t think you should be happy.”

Him: “How did you know?”

Me: “You said you thought I’d understand because I’d been there before.”

Him: “That’s right. It’s been a long road and I know I have a long way to go still. I don’t believe in karma, but I can’t put my finger on what it is. It’s like I’m waiting on the other shoe to drop. It’s like I don’t deserve to be happy after what I’ve put everyone else through. Like I don’t deserve to feel this good. It’s almost like God is out there waiting to punish me or put me down the second things really start going.”

Me: “I know exactly what you feel. But I need you to do something. Take a deep breath for a moment and listen. What you’re feeling is normal. But what you’re feeling comes from several places.

“First, guilt. I know you’re still working things out with God. You have a long way to go with the sin you committed. God is still working on you and I know He’s forgiven you, but you still have to reconcile that to yourself. You still have a lot of guilt stored up. You don’t feel like you deserve anything good after you cheated on your wife and hurt an entire congregation, right?”

Him: “Yeah, you’re right.”

Me: “Next, your view of God has suffered a little. In fact, it may not have ever been exactly right. Mine never was. A lot of people see God as some dude up in heaven ready to strike us down the second we get a little bit happy. Worse, we see him as a cosmic killjoy.

“I’ve told you before about how much John 8 and the story of the woman caught in adultery means to me. She was taken to Jesus and they were ready to stone her. Jesus sent them away and He did not judge her. What did He say to her after that? ‘Is anyone left to condemn you?’ I would ask you the same question, friend. If you’ve reconciled to God, is anyone left to condemn you?

Him: “No.”

Me: “No one can stand as your judge if you are forgiven by the judge of all mankind. Only God can know that. And what does Jesus say next to her? ‘Then go and sin no more.’ Listen, Christ sees our flaws, took those sins and sacrificed Himself for them. We are, indeed, awful, wretched people. But He loves us. And thank God for that. But we are free from those sins when we are forgiven, right?”

Him: “Right. We are, but it’s difficult.”

Me: “Sure it is. Both me and my wife Allison still, at times, feel like we don’t deserve anything good in life. After we committed adultery, after I hurt an entire church, hurt my ex-wife, disappointed a community, hurt my family, I didn’t feel like I ever deserved to be happy again. And still those feelings come up once and again. But Christ doesn’t withhold His blessings from me. Do I still suffer consequences because of my sin? Sure. But I have been made pure by Christ and He no longer holds my sin against me.”

Him: “You’re right, but it’s still a struggle for me.”

Me: “And it will be. It should be. It takes time. Broken relationships with people take a long time to heal. Work on your relationship with God. Live a life pleasing to Him. Work on the relationships you have that are good. When you have a chance to make things right with people, do it. Say kind words to those you have hurt. Let them see the progress Christ is making in your soul. It happens, just not overnight.”

Him: “It does take time. Thank you.”

Me: “We can sin in a moment, but coming back from it can take a very long time. But Christ is worth it. And I promise you, He wants us to be happy in His will and the life He has for us. Enjoy the life before you. Don’t spend time worrying about the sin behind you that He has forgiven. Mend those broken relationships when you can. But embrace the gracious future.”

But then again, there’s always a dissenting opinion:

When we mess up and need forgiveness, one of the most frustrating things can be when people withhold that forgiveness. I’ve tried to outline some reasons people do that, but today I want to get into one of the really nasty things that can happen after someone grants a sort of half-hearted forgiveness.

You know what I’m talking about. You’ve sinned against someone and you ask their forgiveness, but when they grant it, the forgiveness only becomes a way to keep you down. They constantly remind you of your former sin, beating you over the head with it. Or, worse, they sarcastically or subtly bring it up at an opportune time to give them a perceived upper hand.

That’s not forgiveness. And I hope that goes without saying. If someone is holding that kind of “forgiveness” over you, it’s not love, grace or kindness. It’s a power trip. And the best thing you can do is simply say, “I realize you haven’t forgiven me for the sin I’ve committed. I’ve been forgiven by God. I hope one day we can talk again about this and you can forgive me. Please let me know when we can discuss it further.”

Don’t let people hold your sin that God has forgiven you for over your head. And don’t do it to yourself either. The sin is over with and done. Will consequences still be meted out in real life for it? Sure. But there does come a time for grace and understanding. Move on. If others can’t move along with you, be patient with them.

So why do people do this? In my last blog, I gave reasons people don’t forgive. So why do people act like they forgive then drag up our sin before us in a humiliating way?

For some, it seems like a way to exercise power over another. It’s like standing there and saying, “Remember what you did? I can keep you right where I want you because I know what you did.” Guess what kills that? Public confession. When everyone knows what you did, no one person has power over you.

For others, and most of us, we feel better about our own sin when we can compare ourselves to others. When some one else commits a sin, we can always say, “Well, at least I didn’t do that.” I have a happy little theory that many people enjoy crime and reality TV because we like to know that there are people in the world worse than us. But guess what squashes this line of thinking? The ultimate righteousness of God. None of us is as good as Him. And the only one who can meet that standard is Christ.

None of us is any better than the other. In fact, we are all great at sinning. Only by the grace of Christ are we all equal. All ground is level at the foot of the cross.

Forgiveness is so awesome. And it took a fall from ministry for me to grasp it fully. It’s so awesome because it brings us to a place where we don’t have to be ashamed. We don’t have to look down on another or feel beholden to anyone else in this world. We don’t have to walk through Wal-Mart with out head down. We don’t have to worry about what others say about us because our best friend, Jesus Christ, loves us no matter what.

And guess what? If Jesus is their best friend too, they shouldn’t care about it either. They’ll treat us like a brother or sister and we’ll eventually get it all figured out.

Forgiveness isn’t the easiest thing, but when it’s accomplished, it’s one of the greatest things.

Have you ever been in a situation where you’ve either directly or indirectly wronged someone and come to the point where you knew it was time to say, “I’m sorry“?

It’s not easy to ask for forgiveness. It is the right thing to do and it takes humility and the right heart.

I deal with fallen pastors a lot. I’m a fallen pastor myself. Those who fall from ministry hurt a lot of people. Usually, our first apologies are insincere and riddled with defensiveness and self-justification. But eventually, we come around when we are humbled by God and do offer a sincere, “I’m sorry.”

But it’s not just fallen pastors who ask for forgiveness. All of us find ourselves in need of forgiveness from someone we know. Whether it was a harsh word we spoke, an action we took, something foolish we said and we didn’t mean to, an act that caused harm, or any number of things – we all will end up saying those two words at some point, and hopefully in the right way.

For the next few blog posts, I’d like to focus on the idea of when “I’m sorry” isn’t enough. The idea that when we approach someone to ask for forgiveness and they withhold it from us.

Today, I’d like to focus on those of us who ask for forgiveness. Let’s look at a few things that might impact us before or during our act of asking someone to forgive us.

1. Our repentance

When we sin, the first place we should go and ask forgiveness is to God. God requires us to be holy before Him. We are to repent and walk in holiness. Am I saying we are to be perfect? Nope. I am saying that whatever stage we are in past our sin, we are willing to toss it aside and cast it before God, asking Him for help.

Read more after the jump below . . .

It’s been over three years since I fell from the ministry. I don’t spend a lot of free time these days thinking about my days as  pastor. I have the occasional conversation with former church members in whom I can confide. When I do, it helps me see things from a different angle.

Surely, the sin I committed, followed by the humbling circumstances and my eventual turning back to Christ made me a different person. If I could go back in time and do it again, there would be a few things that I would change about myself.

1. I would resist the urge to always be right.

I know for a fact that this isn’t just unique to me. It’s good to be right, don’t get me wrong. Pastors preach the Word of God, the truth of Scripture. But I think there may be moments when we preach that we get confused and believe that just because we’re preaching God’s truth, it means that it’s our truth. If I can say it differently, it’s almost like we trap ourselves in a protective bubble where we think that standing behind a pulpit gives us freedom to say what we want and believe we are right. We can win any argument “just because we’re the pastor” or “because I have a seminary degree.” We may not phrase it that way, but that subtle pride does sneak in from time to time and it needs to be beaten down with a big, ugly stick.

2. I would make sure to mix in more of the compassion and grace of Christ in my preaching.

I preached as an unabashed Calvinist. That doesn’t mean I never preached on the saving grace of Christ. I did. One of my seminary professors said, “If the gospel isn’t present in your sermon each week, you’ve failed.” I took that to heart. But there were times when I was so caught up in the depravity of man and I punched that card so many times, I wonder if I properly balanced it with the Savior. On this side of my life, I’ve seen the compassion and love Christ has for outcasts. He didn’t approach sinners with their depravity, he went to where they were and spoke truth and love to them. There is a time to share sinful nature. But there is always time to let people know how amazing, deep, and fervent the love of Christ really is.

3. I would make time to really, really listen more.

I did visit shut-ins, make hospital visits, phone calls, perform funerals, console the grieving, counsel, etc. Like most pastors, those were things that were expected. That’s not what I’m talking about. What about the people we see each Sunday who you ask, “How are you?” And each Sunday they say, “Doing great!” What if they aren’t? What if some of those people, those who are working two jobs to make ends meet and can barely stay awake in church, those youth who look sad on occasion, those older members you see who look lost and sad once in a while – what if we went out of our way to just engage them for a moment. Don’t talk, but just listen. If they don’t want to talk right then, they know you care. And it may open up a chance for them to come to you later.

4. I would spend less time worrying about things that I had no control over.

There are a lot of things pastors can’t control, but we spend a lot of time preaching about them. Gossip, giving, committee meetings, people who don’t like us, etc. We try and pray about it, we put it in God’s hands, but a day later, we’re still worrying about little conflicts here and there. Somewhere in the black and white of Scripture it says, “remember your calling.” Our calling isn’t to get all anxious and worked up about things we can’t control. Jesus told us not to worry or get anxious. Being anxious doesn’t do any good because most of this world is out of our control anyway. The best we can do is gauge our reaction to the events in front of us. It’s a very hard thing to do as a pastor, but I think I’ve learned to do a better job.

5. Demonstrate the love of Christ, not my own bitterness.

So many times I would hear of sin in the church. I would get angry and want to do something about it. I’d fret, worry and react. Church discipline has it’s place when it’s done for restoration. But my heart wasn’t balanced right. I was out to remove cancers, not to heal hearts. Christ showed compassion for sinners. When they didn’t have another friend in the world, he chose to stand by them. He chose understanding over judgment. And later, he would give his life so that they might be free from their sin.

Interestingly, I would not even venture to change anything about the church. If change is to happen, it has to start with the man in the pulpit. Christ changed this world. How? Because of who he was. And with Christ in us, we can also make changes. Attempting to change people through guilt, anger, lashing out, or other means is useless. Changing ourselves by allowing Christ to work in us is how the church will be transformed.

I’m thankful for the years I got to spend as a pastor. I do miss preaching to a great degree. I’m told when I preach now that I’m a totally different person, and I choose to take that as a compliment. Falling and failing into a great pit is a great way to be humbled, especially when it’s your own fault. But we can always know that Christ will be there to drag us out of it.

I’m thankful for the man God has made me into today. He’s not done with me and I’m not perfect by a long shot. I just pray that I may be able to help those who were in my situation before they reach a crisis point. I pray that all of us, pastor or church member or nominal Christian would be able to reflect upon ourselves in the light of Christ and follow him and let him show us what he sees in us.

I get some interesting emails from time to time. Most of them are from pastors who need help, others are from people who thank me for things I’ve written.

Then, I’ll get some from people who lash out at me for different reasons. I won’t say that I don’t take it seriously, but I don’t take it personally. What I will say is that most of the time, people write something like, “You are an unrepentant person. God doesn’t forgive people like you. You will spend eternity separated from him and you are living a lie.”

Stuff like that makes me sad. But more than that, it makes me reflect on how weak all of us are. It’s no secret about how judgmental I used to be before I fell from the ministry. When I was a pastor, I was very hard on sin. Yes, we should point out sin from the pulpit, but we shouldn’t be so hard on people that we become the judge. I did that at times.

I used to get to the point where I would take joy in thinking, “That person is going to hell because they aren’t repenting of the sin of living together/alcohol/adultery/not coming to church. Good. Let God judge them.”

After my fall, after my descent into the darkest pit I ever found, I learned better. I met a different God. He’s not like that at all. Does God judge sin? Yes. Does He separate Himself from it? Absolutely.

Before my fall, I saw God as somewhat of a vengeful figure, sitting in heaven, waiting to jump on our every sin, finger on the button, waiting to nuke us at every wrong move. As an extension of that, I was a pastor and my job was to go after people who were sinning greatly, pointing out their sins, warning them that if they didn’t straighten up, they were in serious, serious trouble.

I don’t know where I learned this view of God, but it was wrong. What made it wrong is that it wasn’t tied to the revealed nature of Christ as Savior. It was not coupled with compassion at all. In fact, it wasn’t even paired with what I knew to be true of God’s love, compassion and longsuffering in Scripture. I had a God who was a jerk. My God looked amazingly like me.

At the time, I had a short temper, was very impatient with people and wanted results right then. (Some argue not much has changed). Actually, a lot has changed. After my fall, I learned that God was always right there with me. Was He happy with my sin? No. But He was patient, not desiring that I should perish, but that I should turn to Him.

What if in that pit I was in, what if while I was in that place similar to the prodigal son, God had decided to treat me like I had treated others?

He would have said, “Ray, repent now. I mean now. You’ve sinned. You did something you knew you shouldn’t have done. You’ve got about 24 hours to do it. You have no idea how much my anger burns against you.”

I was so miserable and in so much confusion I wouldn’t have. My 24 hour time limit would have come and gone. Then, if God had been acting like me, He would have come back and said, “Time’s up. You’re done. Grace has been forever removed from you. You’ll never have a chance at repentance, grace or my love again.”

Thankfully, God is not like me. Or any of us.

I’m not going to get terribly theological in this post. The old me would have, but the new me is not going to. However, I would like to run something by you. God hands Moses the Ten Commandments. The ten basic guidelines of how to treat God and neighbor.

Fast forward the timeline to King David. David is a man after God’s own heart. He’s a good King, a good dude and God shows favor on him. Problem – David has concubines, wives, commits adultery. He even commits conspiracy for murder to cover up his adultery. Has God suspended His law just for King David? No, absolutely not. Does God allow David to see the consequences for his actions? Yes.

Is God longsuffering in His punishment towards David and gracious at the same time? You bet. Do we find David as an ancestor to Christ? Yes.

What are we to make of this? Is God unjust in not exacting immediate punishment as He did with Ananias and Sapphira in the book of Acts when they were struck down immediately for their lies? Are Christians today not justified when they want fellow Christians or people struck down for sins immediately when they occur?

On a daily, weekly, and monthly basis, I observe Christian behavior that is very un-God like. And I’m guilty of it. Christians who withhold forgiveness. Say very unChristian things to one another. Refuse to help those in need. Talk poorly about others. Talk down to others. What if God did that to us?

We would be in very serious trouble.

But He does none of those things. And thanks be to God. He lavishes His grace and love upon us even while we are sinners. We deserve none of the love He gives, but He shows it to us. And in the ultimate show of grace, He sacrificed His Son so that we might live.

He is patient while we sin. He waits for us to come back to Him. When we sin, He allows us to suffer the consequences. But He waits on His children. Does that give us license to sin? Absolutely not. But it does let us know that God will not give up on His people.

Better yet, we are not to think that God acts like those who call themselves His followers. He is best known to us by His Son, Christ. He did come to redeem us, save us and show us how to live. Did Christ call out the hypocrites? Yes, He did.

In the end, I think it’s best to let God be God. It’s His universe. His justice, His grace, His plan. He is perfect in all things. We all deserve to be given the worst punishment for sin, but we are not. I should be a grease spot on the pavement, but I am thankful that I am not. I thank Him that He is longsuffering and patient. I thank Christ that He stood by me as He did the adulterous woman in John 8.

As a final thought, it’s great that God is not like us. We do share some common traits, the theologians say. But be happy that God exerts His love, mercy, judgment, grace and all else perfectly and without sin. And that He does so with perfection and with His perfect plan in mind.

In this series, I’m trying to address all of the people who are effected by the fall of a pastor. Not only that, I’m asking, what can everyone do in the wake of his fall?

I get emails each week from many different people; pastors who just fell, wives whose husbands fell, churches whose pastors fell, etc. – and most are in a state of panic. “What happens now? What am I supposed to do right now?”

There are no easy answers. There isn’t a handbook that gives a quick answer. I’d love to say the book I wrote has easy, fast answers for everyone to patch up the damage that has just been inflicted. But in the wake of a fall, it takes time, understanding, patience and a willingness to forgive.

Today’s article is  on a very sensitive topic – the devastated spouse. I feel completely unqualified to write this because as the fallen pastor, I hurt my former wife. I’m not going to discuss my previous relationship, instead, I will rely on the interviews I did for my book, “Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World,” and the interactions I’ve had since then with people.

Read more after the jump.

I got an email a few weeks ago from a friend of mine, Ben Simpson, who reminded me of the dangers of pastors loving their churches more than Christ. I suggest you go read his blog. He’s a great thinker and theologian and as a young man, has a lot to offer us in today’s world. He has a heart of gold and much to share in this ever changing world.

He reminded me of a section in my book where I wrote about the church as the pastor’s “first mistress.” Shocked? Well, hold on. Let me go back and explain myself.

I’m writing this series to help people understand all the people who are effected by the fall of an adulterous pastor, or a pastor who falls for any reason. People are left in the wake of his sin. Churches, wives, friends, denominational leadership, associational leadership, family, etc. What is everyone supposed to make of this?

I was there, as a pastor, three years ago, almost to this day. I blogged about it anonymously and wrote a book about it called, “Fallen Pastor: Finding Restoration in a Broken World.” It’s a book for fallen pastors, churches who have been betrayed by fallen pastors, wives of fallen pastors, anyone who has sinned greatly, those who distrust religion, and anyone looking for answers. No holds barred. I obviously have a heart to love on anyone who has fallen from grace. Why? Because Christ did. He loves us regardless how far we fall.

But let’s get back to reality. The pastor has committed adultery. He has been caught, red-handed. He has led your church for however many years. He has baptized your children, has led passionate sermons, put together some great programs for the lost, assembled numerous Vacation Bible Schools, but now, he’s a wretch. A complete loser. He violated the seventh commandment. Let’s kick the guy out.

Let me start with this little fact that you, as a church member, may not know. Keep reading after the jump.