When Heroes Fail: Thoughts on Philip Yancey and other Mortals…

I wasn’t going to write this post. There has been more than enough publicity given to Christian author extraordinaire Philip Yancey’s announcement of his 8 year affair with a married woman, and other than saying “It’s not the first time something like this has happened, and it is highly improbable that it will be the last” I didn’t think there was much I could add to the discussion. While I am always willing to face and discuss reality, I try not to wallow in what has gone wrong, or to point the wagging finger – and attempt to align blog posts with the broad brief of Phil 4:8 which urges us to focus on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable” assuring us that when we do, “the God of peace will be with you”.

Yet here I am, writing this post. Why?

First, several people asked me to. They wanted my perspective on this. They also asked practical questions like “Should I throw his books away?” as well as the deeply penetrating question, “How could God have been using a man so greatly, when he was clearly far from God?” And let’s be clear – God has used Philip Yancey greatly. His classic “What’s so amazing about Grace?” is a truly amazing piece of writing, and it’s theologically solid. And then there are books like “The Jesus I never knew” (a strange pathos to that title now) and the one I especially enjoyed, “Rumours of Another World”. Astute readers of my blog will note that I haven’t attached the usual link to these books – not because I think they should be burnt or banned (as if I would ever be in favour of that), but perhaps it is wise to pause awhile before we continue consuming his work as though nothing has happened. Because it has. An 8 year affair with a married woman is shabby by any standard, but when the player is a key Christian leader (according to the New York Times his books have sold over 20 million copies and have been translated into 49 languages), it is more than disappointing. While clearly his wife was the most betrayed, at a deep level, it is a betrayal of all those who follow Jesus the Christ, to say nothing of the betrayal of Jesus and the Christian faith. But there you go, I am dashing into wagging finger mode, and I don’t want to.

Let me try and turn this into a more positive post. When things go wrong, I usually ask four questions (and I have written more about the method here):

? One: What is mine to carry?

? Two: What is yours to carry?

? Three: What is ours to carry?

? Four: What is God’s to carry?

Let me walk my way through it, with the scenario being the moral collapse of a Christian leader (and the current trigger event revolves around Philip Yancey, but the principles remain much the same – you could add in the names of some of the other failed heroes).

Question 1: What is mine to carry?

This answer is easy enough. Nothing! I’m not Philip Yancey. I have been greatly blessed in my marriage. This really has absolutely nothing to do with me. It is sad – but irrelevant to my daily life.

Except… except if only it were this easy. True, the specific failure might not be mine, but every human failing is a reminder of our own disposition towards sin. In an earlier era it was common to recite the words of 16th century reformer John Bradford on seeing criminals being led away for execution, “There but for the grace of God go I.” It’s a sentiment worth remembering. Pause awhile. Before rushing to judgment, what would it have taken for this to be you? In a different context I have often asked myself how I would have fared if I had been an 18 year old living in Nazi Germany in 1939. I’d love to think that I would have heroically stood up against that tyrannous regime – but I don’t know… I really don’t know. Actually, I suspect I would not have. There but for the grace of God…

There is another equally troubling part to this. You might not identify with it at all – and its wonderful if you don’t. What’s mine to carry is the little sliver of self righteousness I feel when I read accounts like the one of Yancey. After all, he is supposed to be the spiritual giant, and it turns out I am better than him. In an instant all my own frailty and vulnerability is swept away. I seem to be far better than someone who was supposed to be a guide and mentor. After all – how many books did he write to guide us? And 20 million of them sold… (say I with deep envy. After all, my books each sell a few thousand, but Yancey sells them in the millions!) I’m standing with the crowd facing the woman caught in adultery. I’ve chosen a most suitable stone to fling. Mine is unlikely to be the fatal one, but it will play its part. And I am about to fling it when a voice breaks through the jeering. “If you are without sin, throw the first stone.” Such an unreasonable instruction from Jesus! Obviously none of us are without sin – but many of us are without the really destructive terrible ones… Seems like Jesus doesn’t consider this to be a valid factor. “Without sin” is his criteria for stone throwing. And there is another catch as well. After all, wanting to throw a stone is a sin in itself...

What’s mine to carry then is that there is something of the pack animal inside of me. I like to feel good by pointing out that others are bad. And that really muddles what morality is about.

Question 2: What is yours to carry?

I have the privilege of serving as a coach to several people. Coaches get to ask significant questions – like this one. “What is yours to carry?” If Yancey were a client (and to state the obvious, he is not), I’d ask him “Of all this horrible mess, what is yours to carry?” Most times I ask it, people go in one of two directions.

There are those who go in the self justifying direction. “Well what you need to understand is this… It’s fine for others to say… but I…” They might attach a little portion of the blame to their own actions, but primarily it is about everyone else. They fall into the trap of thinking a reason is a justification, whereas a reason simply helps understand why something was a temptation. It forgets that we are called to resist temptation, or as James 4:7 puts it, “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”

Others go in the opposite direction and place all the blame on themself. The trouble with that is we then don’t probe deeply enough. I like to ask, “Sure, you did that, but help me to understand why.” We shouldn’t settle on the why too quickly. Saying “Because I am a terrible person” doesn’t really hack it. In its own way it is an excuse that leaves us without an agenda. After all, if I am a terrible person and that’s the way it is, well then that’s the way it is and there is nothing more to be done. I’m off the hook – even if my self description is less than flattering.

How about we turn the table. I am drawn to sin when I have not drawn close enough to God. It is not so much that I am terrible as it is that I have not embraced the identity that is mine because of Jesus. I am a child of God. Or in the wonderful words of 1 John 3:1 “How great is the love the Father has lavished upon us, that we should be called the children of God! And that is what we are!” My question to Philip would be (and I would try to ask it gently) “How did you forget who you are? And how did you forget for so long?”

It is hard to live with a false identity. It’s the terrible dilemma of a dualistic life, seeming to be one thing but actually being another. It’s the strain (and vanity) of being seen as the spiritual super hero when you know what is waiting to gush out at some awkward moment. Perhaps for Yancey it was a chosen moment. As he battles with Parkinson’s disease, the weakness of his body is a little more obvious. And perhaps with that realisation he has found the courage to face his moral weakness – though let me not speculate about what we don’t really know.

I would want to ask him this: What does Jesus’ invitation in Matt 11:28-30 mean to you now that you are in this devastating mess? For the invitation always remains: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Rest for the soul – a burden that is light. After so many years of covering up – what a relief to be in the light, with the promise of rest for the soul. No more pretence… just furiously trusting the grace of God. Yes – what’s so amazing about grace? It’s amazing that it is there when needed most…

Question 3: What is ours to carry?

When I say “ours” I mean us – the people of God. What is ours to carry?

Some will prickle in indignation at this. That’s so unfair. Actually, most of us aren’t going around having affairs – and (God forbid) if we do, we don’t carry on with them for 8 years before thinking that something isn’t quite right… Seriously, gifting and character often don’t match. Yes, Yancey is a gifted writer. But when it comes to character… well, don’t get me going.

Hmmm, ok, but is it really that simple? How many of our heroes have failed? I’m not going to cite their names, but you know them – well, some of them. It’ scary to ask the cynical question, “And how many don’t we know about?” Some of them flew very, very high before they came crashing down. Some of them have come crashing down multiple times, yet each time we prop them up and put them back on their pedestal, desperate for their charisma to lull us back into the cult of hero worship. And it is a cult. Why is it that when you hear the church spoken about it is so often about its leaders? It’s actually supposed to be about Jesus. Protestants often sneer at other Christians because of their veneration of saints… as if saints can ever be a substitute for Jesus. But then we essentially do the same thing – except that our “saints” are living and have not been through the same rigorous testing, and come crashing down on us. It’s more than awkward. It’s childish. It’s silly. It’s idolatry. We must stop it.

It is ours to carry that we set leaders up to fail by placing them on inflated platforms from which they can only fall.

No, I am not saying that we should not respect our leaders. Nor am I saying that we shouldn’t t look for worthy mentors and role models. But all the hype, all the buzz, all the unreality… come on, it’s time for us to grow up, and to remember that the one we follow was the servant of all. He washed his disciples feet and appears to have possessed only the clothes he wore. Let’s think carefully about what Christian leadership is… We have a way to go here, and it is ours to carry that after so many (many) failures, we doggedly stick to the same script – pretending that slick, simplistic answers and shallow crowd pleasing will see it turn out differently this time. It won’t. Nor will it work to pretend that Christianity is a spectator sport. It isn’t. We are all supposed to be involved – not watching some superstar perform from the front.

What am I saying? Put someone on a pedestal and you must accept some of the responsibility when they come tumbling down. And no – to say it one more time, this does not mean we make life as difficult as possible for our leaders, but common sense accountability and expecting ordinary everyday humility will go a long way.

Question 4: What is God’s to carry?

Let me be absolutely clear. This is in no way an irreverent question. Nor is it in any way to suggest that God is to blame for our fallenness. It is meant to be a question asked with the deepest humility. We can’t sort this mess out. Only God can.

To put it bluntly, evangelical sexual ethics are a mess. It is impossible to proclaim them without a cynical snigger breaking from several in the crowd – true, some crowds are more compliant, but then you hear what they say when they feel comfortable enough to be honest – It isn’t edifying… That doesn’t mean that everything we have said is wrong, but somewhere along the way we have lost the way. Sadly many people associate Christianity more with sex than Jesus. That is to be terribly muddled, and I don’t think the church has sufficient credibility to sort it out. Only God can.

What should the Yancey tragedy move us to? The deepest repentance and prayer. And also back to our deepest hope. Psalm 90:1 says, “Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.” This is not the first crisis of moral authority that the church has faced. Nor will it be the last. But from everlasting to everlasting, God is God. And God, in your mercy and great kindness, please carry what we cannot. God please guard Your reputation, and make Your name great among the nations. For we are frail and fallen, and even when at our strongest, we are poor witnesses to your mercy, kindness and truly amazing grace…

Nice chatting…

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich: https://www.pexels.com/photo/white-and-red-candles-on-white-surface-6837561/

Please help extend the reach of this blog by reposting and forwarding to others. You are free to reproduce in context material from this blog with appropriate recognition of its source.