How the Steven Lawson Scandal is Good for the Church
Steven J. Lawson, a name synonymous with doctrinal precision, rock-solid Reformed theology, and more respect in the conference circuit than most people can imagine, has fallen. The man many considered an indomitable force of gospel preaching has become the latest headline in a growing list of scandals that illuminate modern evangelicalism’s unhealthy relationship with celebrity culture.
The details are as tragic as they are disappointing, an esteemed 73-year-old pastor entangled in a five-year romantic relationship with a woman in her twenties—a student from The Master’s University, no less, where sound theology is supposed to be part of the curriculum.
And this wasn’t merely a fleeting stumble nor was it a momentary lapse in judgment. It wasn’t an errant step off the straight path of uprightness, either. It was a long and winding emotional escapade—an entanglement that proved, with the eloquence of a moral wrecking ball, that sin, when given room to fester, can rot away even the stoutest pillars of our Christian fortresses.
It’s a grim testament to the sobering reality that no man, no matter how armored in doctrine or wrapped in the regalia of theological might, is immune to the creeping, destructive power of unchecked corruption.
This “inappropriate relationship,” as it was originally titled, reportedly had its inception through the young woman’s family’s connections. Her parents were donors to the school, the church, the ministry, and personal friends of Lawson, and the young woman herself had crossed paths with the preacher through these associations. But as their connection deepened into “inappropriate” territory, their covert affair became an open wound on the Church’s reputation.
When the woman’s father confronted Lawson, the weight of Lawson’s sin crashed down. And while the specifics of physical contact remain murky, the very fact that this kind of behavior persisted for half a decade is a devastating indictment of both personal moral failure and collective negligence.
The aftermath was swift and unrelenting, with friends, former colleagues, and his congregation raining down their personal wrath upon his head. Lawson found himself unceremoniously stripped of his leadership roles, expelled from OnePassion Ministries, The Master’s Seminary, and Ligonier Ministries. After all, they had an image to protect.
But while the evangelical world collectively gasped and shook its self-righteously noble head, one must pause and ponder a question that cuts deeper than our wounded pride:
why, in heaven’s name, does this wound ache so terribly?
It’s not merely that Steven Lawson failed, and failed miserably—it’s that we, the Church, possess an almost comically unquenchable thirst for heroes. We crave Christian celebrities with the desperation of teenage girls clamoring for knights in shining armor while playing dress-up with their mom’s wedding gown.
We long for men we can flaunt as symbols of our supposed righteousness and theological prowess. But there lies the real folly, when we elevate these men to heights that should be reserved for Christ alone, it isn’t a question of if they will fall, but when.
And fall they do, with the deafening crash of shattered pedestals and wounded pride, leaving us shocked and horrified in its wake.
It brings to mind the words of Robert Robinson, the great hymn-writer and Baptist minister (it seems we can only trust the dead guys):
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love.
Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
Yet, in all this, we seem to thumb our noses at the sovereignty of God Himself, lamenting not so much the sin as the blow it deals to our public image. We wail and gnash our teeth over how this makes the Church look, clutching our pearls over the “damage” to the mission, evangelism, as if the omnipotent hand of God could somehow be thwarted by man’s indiscretion.
The humor—if it weren’t so tragic—is in our hand-wringing over optics, as if the divine plan for salvation ever rested on a spotless resume rather than the incomprehensible grace of the only Holy, sinless Lamb of God.The truth is that this scandal might be one of the most merciful thunderbolts God has hurled at the Church in quite some time.
And why, you may ask, would God’s mercy wear such a scandalous cloak? Because it compels us to confront our own laughably misplaced trust.