Lessons from The Ted Haggard Story

There are so many angles to the Ted Haggard story that I find fascinating. Before I look at the issues, somewhat detached from the persons involved, let me say that I hope the best for the Haggard family living out this story of scandal and for the other people who have also been hurt by this public scandal.

The perpetrator of abuse

The story for Ted broke over his association with the male prostitute. Since then, it was revealed that he was sexually inappropriate with a young male intern in his congregation. This was already known by the overseers in his church who promised to financially settle with the young man. Apparently there are others with claims of abuse who chose not to come forward publicly. Ted refused to comment about this, which I am sure is necessary from a legal standpoint.

The aspect of Ted as a sexual predator is concerning to me and has not been mentioned yet in discussing the therapy he underwent. The young men involved were of legal age, so it is not technically pedophilia. However, using his position of power to sexually prey on others is a much more serious violation than his struggle with homosexual attraction. I hope that this issue is addressed.

The power imbalance in a pastor/parishioner relationship makes sexual advances by a pastor inappropriate, even if there is apparent consent. There are too many stories of pastors developing inappropriate relationships with male or female parishioners. The same standard that applies to other professionals concerning clients should apply to pastor/parishioner relationships.

Whether or not the pastor wants it, the role of pastor carries with it a mantle of respect and authority. There are parishioners whose perception of the pastor causes them to hunger for acceptance, acknowledgment, and approval from this father figure. This kind of adulation makes them vulnerable to abuse. Any pastor who takes advantage of this vulnerability to benefit himself, sexually or otherwise, is guilty of violating that trust.

There are likely other incidents of spiritual abuse involved in this entire scenario. Any time there is lying and a cover-up, people will be manipulated and used in the process. While the entire congregation felt a sense of betrayal, there are likely also specific instances of betrayal that occurred in the political maneuverings involved in managing this situation.

The victim of shunning

Listening to the recent interviews with Ted, it is obvious that he is hurt by the rejection and abandonment of his former congregation. I understand his hurt when he says, “I thought we were family. I just never believed that the family would throw me out.” However, I also believe his anger toward them is misplaced and he is casting a more negative light on them than is warranted.

In the HBO documentary, Ted says that his church basically told him to go to hell.  He also said that churches are a business, and he was bad for business so they made him disappear. The documentary portrays Ted as being cast out and exiled.

On the other hand, the current pastor, Brady Boyd, of New Life says this in his blog,

“the overseers, trustees, elders and pastoral team of New Life committed over $300,000 to the Haggard family that included 13 months of salary for Ted and Gayle, a pickup truck, extensive counseling, health insurance for the entire family, moving expenses, and care for Jonathan Haggard, their special needs son.”

Boyd said that he is distressed that the congregation is portrayed as casting Haggard out and that Ted agreed to leave Colorado in the spirit of a “fresh start.”

There was a legal contract with the church that stipulated the Haggards move out of Colorado and barred them from making public comment for a specified period of time. As of June 2008, the time period of those agreements is past, and the Haggards were free to return to their half-million dollar home in Colorado, and they received permission to speak with the media.

There are obvious differences in perspective. I am surprised that Ted doesn’t acknowledge that it was probably necessary for the Haggards to move away for a season to allow the church congregation an opportunity to heal. I am sure that it was lonely, difficult, and hurtful, but perhaps it was in the best interest of those whose trust he had violated.

Indicators of restoration

This brings up all sorts of issues about how the church handles sin.  What do we do with mistakes, vulnerability, transparency, and forgiveness?  These things are complicated by the fact that Ted was the leader, and not only that, he was a public, nationally-known figure.

As a regular member, there should be no question about unconditional forgiveness, acceptance, and inclusion for Ted, regardless of whether he is successful or failing in his personal battles with sin.  The real question is when or if he should be restored to leadership in the church.

A few months after the scandal, I read something about Ted wanting to be a therapist or a counselor. I just shook my head. I understand that he is floundering professionally. Now he would like to “help others” by sharing his story on a speaking/lecture circuit. Again, I understand that he must feed his family. However, for their healing and his own, I see this as incredibly unwise and premature.

Pastor Boyd said this about the telling of their story:

“I told Ted I think it’s premature to tell the story. We still believe in redemption and restoration, and there’s obviously been hurt. His family has been hurt, and our church family has been hurt. There’s no way this has been healed in just two years. It’s too big a wound.”

Concerning restoration, Patton Dodd said it well:

When popular politician John Profumo was caught with a prostitute in 1963, he resigned and withdrew completely from public life. For the rest of his days—he lived until 2006—he did the work of atonement, cleaning toilets, washing dishes, and working with alcoholics in London’s East End. Profumo never published a memoir or even granted so much as an interview…

Before his fall, Haggard always claimed he’d do the same. From time to time over the years, from his pulpit, Haggard would say that if anything ever incapacitated his ability to minister, he hoped he’d just continue to come as a member and volunteer at the church—clean floors, scrub bathrooms. Unfortunately, given allegations of inappropriate behavior between Haggard and a church member, he couldn’t be allowed within his church at all. But there were plenty of other options. Every town has an East End.

Haggard can’t enter a pulpit, and he shouldn’t seek to be a spiritual leader, at least not for eons. He can enter a congregation somewhere, and if he wants to do that, he should, as a fellow traveler with other seekers. And that congregation should embrace him. That’s what his spiritual restoration would look like.

The leadership pedestal as a contributing factor

The pastor of our former church is a narcissist personality. This led to much of the damage and abuse that occurred at our former church. The deep insecurity and fear that tramples others in his way is also the same motivation that drives him to lead and control. Having a position of leadership is the worst thing that could have happened to him. It actually fuels his dysfunction and prevents him from pursuing or finding healing for the woundedness in his life.

Looking at Ted’s situation, I wonder at what point the power available to him boosted the evil that he struggled with. Along with power, there comes a sense of entitlement. It is the sense of entitlement that leads to the kind of risky and abusive behaviors that ultimately result in the downfall of the person in power.

Making an interesting reference to Driscoll’s statement, “They are sinning through questioning,” Patton Dodd, a former member of New Life Church, offered this comparison and warning:

If Driscoll’s leadership model is predicated on the notion that his opinion is sacrosanct, the Mars Hill community is a crisis of one kind or another waiting to happen. Ted Haggard’s New Life Church had the same problem; his leadership was overbearing, and most of us lost the ability to speak truth to power. Haggard lost the ability to hear truth when spoken. As everyone now knows, it was a recipe for disaster.

How many people do we have to watch fall from pedestals before we figure out that we are creating this problem? It is so easy to tsk, tsk when they fall, as if there is some inherent flaw in them, but maybe the problem is really with us, not them. Perhaps the co-dependent need to elevate these people is the real problem we should look at.

At the time of Todd Bentley’s fall, I said:

There is an element of idolatry in the way that people are elevated in ministry.  The problem with so many of these fallen leaders is not that the wrong person was put on the pedestal, the problem IS the pedestal.

Why is this an aspect of church life? There are 100′s of men lined up ready to take the place of the latest preacher who fell. Every one of them believe that they can handle the power. And it seems that the American church in particular is more than willing to elevate them to celebrity status. How many more men and families will we destroy in this manner?

Issues of sexual orientation

While this is the most discussed aspect of the story, it is the part that I have the least to say about. Ted’s example personifies the current conflict and confusion about homosexuality in the church.

Ted is right in saying that issues of sexual orientation are complicated. When asked on Nightline whether he still believes it is a sin to be gay, Ted’s response was, “For me.” He also adds:

“Just as the church made a horrible mistake several centuries ago, insisting that the Earth was flat when, in fact, the Earth was round, I think the church may make a major mistake in our generation saying that sexuality should be this and nothing else when, in fact, there’s a lot more diversity.”

That sounds like it is opening a door beyond the standard evangelical position on homosexuality.

On the other hand, the gay community accuses Ted of being in denial regarding his claim of being “heterosexual with issues.” They believe he is not being true to himself about his sexuality. They will not accept that choosing a heterosexual lifestyle is a legitimate and honest choice for a person who has experienced same-sex attraction.

Conclusion

Ted is not the only one with lessons to learn. If we are paying attention, there is plenty that the church can learn from this situation about dealing with failure, spiritual abuse, restoration, the cancer of celebrity leadership in the church, and how we can embrace people who struggle with sexual orientation.

The Birds and The Bees

We have parented with the philosophy that sex, like many other topics, is an ongoing conversation that continues and progresses as our kids mature. Rather than waiting for the single awkward, sweaty-handed conversation that some of us endured as teenagers, we have tried to be open in explaining things to our kids at appropriate times.

Having chickens and pet rabbits clued them in on some of the biological specifics at a fairly early age. When my girls were in kindergarten, they inadvertantly created an interesting moment during morning chapel at the school they were attending. The highschool students snickered and the principal turned beet red when they sincerely requested prayer for their rabbits who were jumping on each other.

As my girls approach 17, I felt the need to check in and make sure they are hearing what we are attempting to say to them. I didn’t want to make assumptions about what they knew or understood. It seemed like a good idea to be intentional about making sure we are communicating, so we had lunch today.

And it was good.

At one point, they started talking about the differences in how my husband and I talk with them about sex. They said, “You are like all about self-worth and values and respect and identity. And dad, he’s….”

And then they started laughing. At this point, I wondered what kind of damage control or explaining I was going to have to do.

“What did dad say?”

“He didn’t really say anything. He just brought us to Walmart.”

“And?”

“And he bought us Mace!”

Too Damn Good For Blogging

To my three dear readers…

You may have noticed that I have not been around much lately.

I promised myself when I started blogging that I would never apologize for not blogging.

So I won’t.

I will just explain.

I have been busy.

Busy doing important things.
Busy doing spiritual things.
Busy with real people.
People who matter.

I guess that makes me very missional.
Thus, no blogging.

If you were missional, you wouldn’t even be readng this.
Missional people don’t read blogs.
Missional people don’t write blogs.
And missional people certainly don’t join Missional Tribe.
I don’t know why I even own a laptop.

Thank God, I didn’t make the Top 60 or any other blog list.
Can you imagine how embarrassing that would be.
Dude, you have to do some serious blogging to make those lists.
At least 30 minutes here and there.
God, I thank you that I am not like these other men…

Disclaimer: (7 minutes 30 seconds were taken out of my very important schedule today to post this.)

Faith

Like many people, my thoughts at this time are influenced by the current media attention to hope and change. There have been references to the beginning of a new story, the opportunity to change the narrative in which this nation lives.

As a nation, we need this opportunity for a fresh start, a clean slate, a chance to begin anew and to walk in a different direction. For our country, this new story will occur in the face of incredible obstacles. In spite of new hope, the economic, social, and political circumstances in our nation have never been more grim.

What about for us personally? Can we just decide to rewrite our story, or are we stuck in whatever story we find ourselves in?

That’s the essence of repentance, isn’t it. Not so much the shame of remorse – although there may be significant regrets – but the decision to step into a new story.

But first, we must have hope that a new story is possible. Where do we find that hope?

When the circumstances around us are difficult, it is easy to give in to a sense of hopelessness and despair, particularly when the obstacles seem insurmountable. Are we confined to these circumstances? Is this the only story possible for us?

I doggedly explored the nooks and crannies of all that I hoped for, but those dreams were disconnected from my reality, unattainable. I know the the pain of disappointment when dreams are beyond your grasp. The fruit of hope eventually becomes bitter.

When did we quit believing that our story is good? This is not much different than the Israelites in their fickleness toward God, angry at Him for the difficulty of the journey, unable to believe the possibility of a better outcome, not trusting the overall goodness of His intentions.

Many mornings this winter, I stood in my kitchen trying to remind myself that God is faithful and God is good while the pain and suffering of people around me blasted like the December winds, rattling the windows of my hope.

A veteran of harsh winters, I am familiar with the holding pattern of endurance, waiting for better days. But happy endings are not true of every story. At the threshold of 2009, I no longer looked expectantly to the horizon. I convinced myself to focus on what is immediately in front of me.

I know that death is a pre-requisite to resurrection. I suspect the death of hopefulness in my own heart is likely part of God’s process in me. However I am cynical enough to believe that dead might just be dead in the arena of dreams and that many who dream are simply naive, not yet wizened to the harsher realities of life.

I have been thinking a lot about the place of hope and dreams in the life of a believer. What will come along in my life to convince me that hope is possible, that it is not only okay, but necessary to dream again? Somewhere beneath my flimsy faith in good outcomes is a solid trust in the God who loves.

How much does my belief determine the story I will write? While belief alone may not be enough to change the difficulty of our circumstances, it is the first step forward if we want to find ourselves in a story beyond what we see. We might even call it faith.

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)

Maybe it’s time to once again believe in the possibility of a new story.

The thought of stepping into that belief feels as uncertain as stepping onto an icy pond in March. But hey, you never know.

The State of My Situation Address

Who knew that detox had anniversaries?

There is an exact calendar date that my husband and I can point to as the day our world turned upside down and that church as we knew it was over. At the time, we didn’t know we had entered the process of detox.

It will be 5 years on February 28 of this year. Only half as long as Robbymac, and I am quite certain that I have not learned half of what he knows about all of this. In fact, if you are looking for answers, you might be better off reading his post instead.

What do I know? We did not end up where I expected to end up.

For a long time, I was driven by idealism, a need to right and correct the things that were wrong, to be involved in something more true and pure. I hated stories of people who entered into detox and eventually circled around to going back. I could not accept that there is not a better outcome to be found.

Then I became more realistic, less militant.

I thought that perhaps we would be able to adapt and assimilate into normal church again, that we would be able to return to church with a healthier outlook. Be positive, behave ourselves, be normal attenders.

But, it’s not working. As much as I want it to, it just doesn’t make sense.

Time has healed the wounds of abuse. The raw feelings are now only a memory. I am not too wounded to go back. I am not angry, bitter or afraid about church, pastors, or members. I like church people. I like most pastors.

Maybe you can help me with this.

In my local community, there are probably 30-40 congregations of various denominations. I could go to any of them, make friends, fulfill the membership requirements, get involved in their programs, and attend services. I know what to do. In fact, I am pretty good at the drill.

I am able to do these things. I just can’t figure out why I would. Maybe to give definition and legitimacy to my membership in the body of Christ.

To be clear, I believe in the value of community. This week, I attended 5 different gatherings of believers that involved food, fellowship, encouragement, and prayer, but I did not actually attend a church service this week (or yet this year).

I desire real community and corporate mission, but (the big butt) I have a really hard time seeing those values expressed in the activities of the churches that I could join. In fact, and this may be the problem, I have a really hard time understanding anything about the church through the lens of an institutional organization.

Maybe I am still guilty of having unrealistic expectations.

When I think of pastoring and eldering, I look at people who live their lives that way 7 days a week in their relationships.

When I think of teaching and prayer, I see it in the context of people who are invested in relationship with one another, a mutual flow within those relationships.

When I think of fellowship and encouragement, I see the intentional activities of those who choose to share life and time together.

On the other hand, I also see the long-term benefit of those who share membership in church organizations over a period of many years. I am not against institutional church. There are lots of really good people involved in it, and they accomplish some wonderful things.

I had an underlying belief that when God got done cleaning my clock, when detox was over, this would all make sense, and I would be normal, like the rest of you.

I don’t know.

At the end of 5 years, I know less than I did at the beginning of those 5 years.

(Disclaimer: This is not a statement about what anyone else is or should be doing. It is simply my reflections at this point in my journey.)