The Prodigal Sheep

Sure, he changed the sermon title and tweaked a few words or phrases here or there, a few minutes worth of editing. But every Sunday he got up in that pulpit and delivered somebody else's insights as his own. Every Sunday. Apparently he was too busy doing his real job he didn't have the time or energy to prepare a fresh word from God every week or so.

This issue is public knowledge, at least public knowledge to any member of our church or anyone who reads the weekly news on our website. But I've refrained from blogging about it out of respect for the people involved, including the man himself, those of us having to deal with the consequences right now, those who feel betrayed and those who see nothing wrong with what he did.

But since I'm on the board of directors for my church this is not something I've been able to ignore or hide from. We are having to deal with everything that has happened as a result. It is in my thoughts day and night. Some nights I can't sleep for worry about how it will all resolve, about what is the right way for us to respond. Tonight I quietly wept as I realized what a toll the revelation of our pastor's actions has taken on so many of us.

I look at it this way: Everybody has their weaknesses, everyone makes mistakes sometimes. If he had made a pass at a congregant, gotten drunk in public or borrowed money from the offering plate I could deal with it. If his theology was too conservative or too liberal or not deep enough that would be OK. Yet he was perfect in all these areas.

But when a man misrepresents the very words from his mouth, when hardly a word spoken from his pulpit was not forged in another pastor's pen, you have to ask yourself what is authentic about him. The words that he preached with such fire and conviction, whether he believed their propositional truthfulness or not, were lies. Lies in the same sense that plagiarized college essays are lies: they lie about the supposed author, attributing to him ideas he never thought, conclusions he never struggled or grappled with, and experiences he never lived.

Deception, whether of self or others, seems to be a greater sin than simply succumbing to weakness or temptation. The admitted addict who keeps falling off the wagon but keeps getting back on nonetheless is simply doing his or her best to live life one day at a time; there but for the grace of God go I, I am sure of this. But the addict who hides the liquor or drugs in the closet and refuses to acknowledge there is a problem, while living a charade, is not only an addict but a liar.

Two sins can cripple a person's soul more than anything else, I think - these are lying and fear.