How Church Scandals Can Strengthen Your Faith
God's justice as an oasis for the hurting
This is a guest post from my friend Luke Simon. Luke is a fantastic up-and-coming Gen Z writer who has written some of my favorite pieces lately. I’m excited to publish this guest post from him. He’s going to be writing more, so make sure you subscribe to his Substack, Simon Says.
The church isn’t supposed to hurt you, but sometimes it does. Stories of abuse, scandal, and corruption have become common in the American evangelical church, causing many Christians to question not only the church, but their faith in Jesus.
But I don’t think it has to. In fact, I think church scandals can strengthen your faith. Nancy French’s story is a powerful example of why. In her recent memoir, Ghosted: An American Story, French exposes the cover-ups, complicity, and corruption she has experienced in the American evangelical church.
When she was sexually abused by her youth Bible teacher, her church knowingly turned a blind eye. When her and her husband condemned President Trump’s immoral behavior, she was ostracized by her conservative Christian colleagues. When she led an investigation into Kanakuk’s history of sexual misconduct, revealing several stories of abuse, she was met with hostility from Christians who doubled-down and supported the camp.
Her abuser? Still roaming the streets of Tennessee. Her Christian colleagues? Still avoiding her.
Kanakuk? No one in leadership has resigned to this day.
Her story of sex scandals, abuse, and tribalism may seem like the perfect recipe for a deconstruction cocktail – but French remains sober in her faith. Why?
Near the end of her book, French recalls a conversation she had with a friend who reminded her that although her work seemed to be accomplishing no change, she shouldn’t lose hope:
“[He] called to remind me that my job was never to exact justice in either the Kanakuk case or [her abuser’s] case. I didn’t have the power to do that – only God does. He reminded me that one day everything would be made right. Justice would reign. And every tear would be dried. But today wasn’t that day. Today my only job was to remind people – and myself – that justice is coming. And that everything that has been lost will, ultimately, be restored.”
So why hasn’t French abandoned her faith? I think it’s because she recognizes an important truth: If I give up on Jesus, I’m giving up on justice.
If I give up on Jesus, I’m accepting that there is no happy ending. If I give up on Jesus, I’m accepting that oppressors won’t be held accountable. If I give up on Jesus, I’m accepting that abused and abusers will always meet the same fate. I can empathize with the desire to give up on the church with its brokenness, but is it worth giving up on Jesus? In the words of Peter, “...to whom shall we go?” (John 6:68)
While my mind could entertain the thought that life is meaningless; that the world is atoms randomly floating in space, my heart refuses to give it attention. In fact, the anger I feel when I hear of abuse, the disgust I feel towards tragedy, and the contempt I feel for injustice, are the most compelling arguments I’ve encountered for a cosmic Judge. Why would my heart protest oppression when history shows it’s more common than freedom? Why would my heart cry out for tragedy when it’s a constant? Why would my heart hate abuse when it happens all the time?
My best conclusion is this: my longing for justice is a result of being made in the image of a just God (Gen. 1:27). And – unexpectedly – when I witness injustice in our world, God’s justice shifts from an obstacle to an oasis.
Yes, I believe in a wrathful God; One who will humble the exalted and exalt the humble (Luke 14:11).
Yes, I believe in a vengeful God; One who will protect the innocent and condemn the guilty (Psalm 37:28).
Yes, I believe in an angry God; One who will heal the abused and destroy the abuser (Psalm 9:9).
This is the same Father that Jesus placed his trust in; the Chief Shepherd (1 Pet. 5:4), the Weed Picker (Matt. 13:24-30), the Thief in the Night (1 Thes. 5:2), the Vineyard Owner (Matt. 20:1-16), the Wedding Host (Matt. 22:1-14) – the God who will come to judge (2 Tim. 4:1).
Church scandals, as devastating as they are, can strengthen our faith if they draw us closer to Jesus—the one who embodies God’s justice. In his life, he didn’t shy away from confronting corruption. He flipped the tables in the temple, standing against hypocrisy and greed, showing us that injustice, even within religious institutions, angers the heart of God. But Jesus didn’t stop at flipping tables. His death and resurrection remind us that he has turned them. And one day, he will set all things right.
This is why church scandals can ultimately strengthen our faith. They remind us that we need Jesus. Where else could we go? Only Jesus offers the promise of a future where every wrong will be made right. Only Jesus assures us that every tear will be wiped away. Only Jesus assures us that every wound will be healed, and every oppressor held accountable.
Church scandals don’t have to lead us away from Jesus. They can lead us to him. They can remind us that the world’s brokenness, even in the church, cannot be fixed by human efforts. Only his return will bring perfect justice. So until that day, let's keep trusting in him—because to give up on Jesus is to give up on the only hope for a just world.
And I don’t think you want to give up on that.
I’ve written a book about deconstruction. It’s called Walking Through Deconstruction: How To Be A Companion In A Crisis Of Faith. It’s deeply personal, but it’s not a memoir. It’s an attempt to serve the church, to help the church understand what deconstruction is, what causes it, and how to walk with people who are experiencing it.
 | A guest post by
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A leadership scandal came to light at my first church home I had as a believer. Today I can say that, yes, that sort of thing can strengthen your faith. But even for those who get to that place, it takes a long time, and I wouldn’t wish that particular path to a deeper faith on anyone.
I appreciate your thoughtful effort here on this difficult subject. The truths you bring up are definitely among those that helped me.
I realize this is a little outside the scope of what you addressed, and I’m sure you wouldn’t disagree: I’d just add that I hope we can do a better job mentoring and even vetting those we place in leadership roles. Not all church scandals are preventable but many are.
I appreciate this message and resonate with much of it. I too find myself echoing Peter; to whom will I go if not Jesus? At the same time, Jesus’ very next words predict his betrayal, and Peter’s answer thus comes *before* the disciples’ share that experience of betrayal by Judas. By the end of John, even after Jesus’ first resurrection appearance, the disciples are still locking the room out of fear. Betrayal is a different category than scandal. One is intellectual, the other existential. Gerald Schlabach writes about this vis a vis John Howard Yoder: https://www.geraldschlabach.net/2014/07/10/only-those-we-need-can-betray-us-my-relationship-with-john-howard-yoder-and-his-legacy/. For what it’s worth, I wanted to share some reactions as one who is regularly in the trenches with church abuse survivors, and I try to hear material like this with my clients’ ears. I can imagine the emphasis on “giving up” on Jesus feeling like a burden to those who have been wounded by churches, pastors, spiritual leaders, in a way different than those merely scandalized by such stories. Justice for one’s abuse does not depend on one’s faith, but that’s what I hear when I read, “If I give up on Jesus, I’m giving up on justice.” I get the meaning, so I don’t mean to read uncharitably. The Gospel of John, which in my opinion is the most comprehensive biblical response to church scandal and religious trauma, ends with a similar message, but without the implication of guilt: “But these are written so that you may *continue to believe* that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name” (NRSVU, imho the only translation that captures John’s intent to help believers *keep on believing* after they have suffered wrongs at the hand of religion and church).