I heard on the streets that a great teacher had fallen. A preacher, a teacher, a leader of many men. He had stumbled. What sin? Before the church he confessed, “I have sinned against God.” Even old man Abraham stumbled.

And then I heard a great noise. It was my Brothers and Sisters not weeping but scoffing, “A curse upon his head!” I could see a great multitude rising up.

“See, it was his wicked theology! His doctrines of grace! Complementarian!”

An accuser rose up from amongst them: she had a dead thing whispering lies on her shoulder. “His friends are wicked too!”

The crowd murmured in agreement. They were out for blood.

Then there was a greater shout that shook the heavens, and I saw from the corners of the earth, the rulers and makers of words proclaim, “Behold, their God is a liar, and we are the makers of truth.”

They had great power to shame the man and marked him as Cain. The whole world marveled at his wickedness.

I saw a man. His friends became his despisers. His name was wiped clean from every stone. He was no longer fit to be remembered. He is despised. All the works of his hands are laid bare. Truly, it would have been better if he had never been born.

This man sat outside the city gates. Like a leper, an unclean thing, the man moaned. He was naked and ashamed. Black ash covered his head, and he smelled of squalor.

As I passed by, I turned to this man, and I thought his punishment just. I made to mock him. He should have known better. He was guilty. Look! How his deeds mocked the name of God!” All the world doubted Providence because of this man’s sin.

But horror!

I looked into the face of this man, in his eyes, but behold it was my face! I am the man! God have mercy, I am the man—that disgusting creature. A curse upon my head!

What a black night.

An unending night where the sun fails to rise, and cold tempests beat against the heart. Shaking and weeping, I lay down in the dirt. I ate my tears and cried out into the empty night.

Then, drifting off the face of the waters, a cool breeze—the smell of rain.

Before me I saw another man, one that appeared to be like a son of man. “He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.”

I saw a man “scorned by mankind and despised by the people.” I saw the whole world scoff, “He trusts in the Lord; let him deliver him;
let him rescue him, for he delights in him!”

I knew that this man was despised more than I and I wept fresh tears. How could such a thing exist? Pity Lord.

I asked “what evil thing has thou done? What adultery, what lie, how did you blaspheme the Holy God?

In my heart a voice whispered, “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in His mouth.” When they heaped abuse on Him, He did not retaliate; when He suffered, He made no threats, but entrusted Himself to Him who judges justly.”’

And then I understood.

Surely He took on our infirmities

and carried our sorrows;

yet we considered Him stricken by God,

struck down and afflicted.

But He was pierced for our transgressions,

He was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him,

and by His stripes we are healed.

We all like sheep have gone astray,

each one has turned to his own way;

and the LORD has laid upon Him

the iniquity of us all

Isaiah 53

Let the reader understand.

Authors Note: Recently, within the broader evangelical church, a few popular preachers and teachers with large ministries have fallen into sexual immorality. Steven Lawson, a noted Reformed pastor and teacher, allegedly stumbled, and the reaction was visceral—not only from the outside world, but also from those who once praised him as a great teacher. I wrote this prose in response. It is a call for self-reflection, humility, and mercy.

 


Matthew Sheppard
Matthew Sheppard

Matthew Sheppard lives in western Oklahoma with his wife and two daughters. You may find his work on his Substack publication The Bird and Babe