Why Do We Shoot Our Wounded?
Written by: Dr. David Kyle Foster – March 1998
It wasn't easy getting folks to talk to me for this article - even those whose fall had been public and was material for their own books.
“I’m writing about how the church treats those who have fallen into sin and how we can restore fallen people to wholeness in Christ.”, I’d explain. But even though those Christians whose falls were public, who wrote their own books about it, who repented and ultimately experienced restored relationship with God and others, found it too difficult to speak.
One of my first calls was to a man who fell into immorality while heading up one of the most respected evangelical campus ministries in the world. He very curtly informed me that he did not want to be a part of this project.
Then there was the man who had been a fixture on Christian radio for more than a decade before losing it all over an adulterous affair. He came at me like a wounded animal, as I listened in stunned silence on the phone.
Why would men who had experienced the redemptive grace of God not want to share that joy with others? Why would they not want to offer words of guidance or correction for the church?
I was discovering that the wounding of fallen believers by others in the church takes a far greater toll than I had ever imagined. In response to feeling betrayed by a believer who falls, many react with their own brand of betrayal – and shoot the wounded.
The former radio preacher told me, "Rumor and accusation are the biggest problems. You can't trust even friends to keep confidences." Choking back deep emotion, he breathed, "The pain is awful! Tell them to obey Galatians 6:1-2", he finally growled.
In that passage, Paul says, "Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ. "(NIV)
Sadly, few Christians or churches have heeded Paul’s advice. And the results have been tragic.
In high-profile cases, the shock and hurt of "counter-betrayal" at the hands of believers is compounded by the media circus that arises. Some reporters are masters at pretending to be supportive while extracting evidence for a public crucifixion. This ravenous publicity machine exposes issues to a public that doesn't have the maturity to handle them - issues that should be handled by those who have learned to employ grace as a means to restoration. What ensues is the modern version of a mob lynching. So the "wounded dog" syndrome in those who fall is the offspring of the "wounded dog" syndrome in those who trusted them - exacerbated by an unforgiving, press-incited public.
Another reason for a reluctance to talk by fallen ministers is the nature of western leadership models. We expect them to be perfect. And so, they must project a flawless image or risk losing the support of the group that placed them on the pedestal.
Someone who has dared to fail, faces the daunting task of re-establishing credibility, assuming that option is even held out to them. They must construct a new image - a goal that is impeded when their name continues to be associated with a failed past. It must again become associated with success, trustworthiness and reliability.
What happens when they fall?
The response of one southern church to the sin of their pastor was so egregious that the outcome was almost predictable. Bill (not his real name) had been a pastor in a conservative denomination for 27 years, faithfully married and with kids. One night he was mugged and raped. Though he had never been homosexually oriented before, he secretly began to engage in dangerous sexual encounters in an attempt to be raped again, (a syndrome found in some victims of abuse who seem to use re-enactment as a way to work through the pain and trauma of their abuse).
"I would repent in tears after each encounter", he said. "I'd tell the Lord that it would not happen again. But as a pastor, there was nowhere to turn for help. After two or three weeks I would wind up in another park and it would happen again. I lived that way for ten years without the church knowing it. When I was finally confronted, I was given 24 hours to resign my church, clean out my desk and get out! Except for distant friends and relatives, no pastor or anyone else came to me personally to pray or help." By then, he had contracted AIDS.
I knew Bill. The repentance and sorrow over his sin was real, yet his local church and denomination ruthlessly cut him off without recourse. Just weeks before his death, in weak and feeble tones, Bill described his support system to me: "I am on total disability with social security. I've often said it seems like the church stepped out of my life and the government stepped in. That's not the way it's supposed to work."
A friend who counselled him reported that in the last weeks of his life the church would not even place Bill's name in the bulletin to ask for caregiving help. Finally, a gay couple took him in and provided for his needs. His counselor said to me, "I wish people in the church could see what I saw." It was not the church's finest hour.
Why do we shoot them?
Written by: Dr. David Kyle Foster – March 1998
It wasn't easy getting folks to talk to me for this article - even those whose fall had been public and was material for their own books.
“I’m writing about how the church treats those who have fallen into sin and how we can restore fallen people to wholeness in Christ.”, I’d explain. But even though those Christians whose falls were public, who wrote their own books about it, who repented and ultimately experienced restored relationship with God and others, found it too difficult to speak.
One of my first calls was to a man who fell into immorality while heading up one of the most respected evangelical campus ministries in the world. He very curtly informed me that he did not want to be a part of this project.
Then there was the man who had been a fixture on Christian radio for more than a decade before losing it all over an adulterous affair. He came at me like a wounded animal, as I listened in stunned silence on the phone.
Why would men who had experienced the redemptive grace of God not want to share that joy with others? Why would they not want to offer words of guidance or correction for the church?
I was discovering that the wounding of fallen believers by others in the church takes a far greater toll than I had ever imagined. In response to feeling betrayed by a believer who falls, many react with their own brand of betrayal – and shoot the wounded.
The former radio preacher told me, "Rumor and accusation are the biggest problems. You can't trust even friends to keep confidences." Choking back deep emotion, he breathed, "The pain is awful! Tell them to obey Galatians 6:1-2", he finally growled.
In that passage, Paul says, "Brothers, if someone is caught in a sin, you who are spiritual should restore him gently. But watch yourself, or you also may be tempted. Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfil the law of Christ. "(NIV)
Sadly, few Christians or churches have heeded Paul’s advice. And the results have been tragic.
In high-profile cases, the shock and hurt of "counter-betrayal" at the hands of believers is compounded by the media circus that arises. Some reporters are masters at pretending to be supportive while extracting evidence for a public crucifixion. This ravenous publicity machine exposes issues to a public that doesn't have the maturity to handle them - issues that should be handled by those who have learned to employ grace as a means to restoration. What ensues is the modern version of a mob lynching. So the "wounded dog" syndrome in those who fall is the offspring of the "wounded dog" syndrome in those who trusted them - exacerbated by an unforgiving, press-incited public.
Another reason for a reluctance to talk by fallen ministers is the nature of western leadership models. We expect them to be perfect. And so, they must project a flawless image or risk losing the support of the group that placed them on the pedestal.
Someone who has dared to fail, faces the daunting task of re-establishing credibility, assuming that option is even held out to them. They must construct a new image - a goal that is impeded when their name continues to be associated with a failed past. It must again become associated with success, trustworthiness and reliability.
What happens when they fall?
The response of one southern church to the sin of their pastor was so egregious that the outcome was almost predictable. Bill (not his real name) had been a pastor in a conservative denomination for 27 years, faithfully married and with kids. One night he was mugged and raped. Though he had never been homosexually oriented before, he secretly began to engage in dangerous sexual encounters in an attempt to be raped again, (a syndrome found in some victims of abuse who seem to use re-enactment as a way to work through the pain and trauma of their abuse).
"I would repent in tears after each encounter", he said. "I'd tell the Lord that it would not happen again. But as a pastor, there was nowhere to turn for help. After two or three weeks I would wind up in another park and it would happen again. I lived that way for ten years without the church knowing it. When I was finally confronted, I was given 24 hours to resign my church, clean out my desk and get out! Except for distant friends and relatives, no pastor or anyone else came to me personally to pray or help." By then, he had contracted AIDS.
I knew Bill. The repentance and sorrow over his sin was real, yet his local church and denomination ruthlessly cut him off without recourse. Just weeks before his death, in weak and feeble tones, Bill described his support system to me: "I am on total disability with social security. I've often said it seems like the church stepped out of my life and the government stepped in. That's not the way it's supposed to work."
A friend who counselled him reported that in the last weeks of his life the church would not even place Bill's name in the bulletin to ask for caregiving help. Finally, a gay couple took him in and provided for his needs. His counselor said to me, "I wish people in the church could see what I saw." It was not the church's finest hour.
Why do we shoot them?
