For Christians all around the world, it feels like Groundhog Day. We wake up to new scandals every day.
This kind of betrayal is uniquely suited to creating a mid-faith crisis because it turns saints into cynics almost instantly.
When you’ve followed a shepherd for decades, what happens when you realize he led you astray? How do we find authentic faith when our leaders and mentors turn out to be con artists? It’s no wonder so many of us are left with a Christianity that once looked shiny and inspiring and now seems rotten to the core.
Catherine McNiel
Jason Hague
This Christianity is rotten to the core. Do a little digging and we find a long, long trail of ego-driven wolves cosplaying as shepherds all the way back to … well, as far back as we can see. It’s so different from the Jesus path we thought we started down. We wonder: Is the authentic way of love even real? Was it all just sleight of hand?
Maybe we thought we could use these powers for good. Wouldn’t full stadiums bring people to Jesus and glory to God? Wouldn’t YouTube sermons with a million views showcase the beauty of the gospel of Jesus Christ? Wouldn’t a growing Instagram or TikTok following make Jesus’ beauty seem compelling to a thirsty world?
Clearly, it hasn’t worked out that way. Men and women are leaving the church in unprecedented numbers, naming the hypocrisy and abuse of their leaders as the reason why.
“Men and women are leaving the church in unprecedented numbers, naming the hypocrisy and abuse of their leaders as the reason why.”
If you paid thousands of dollars for a guide to lead you to all the most compelling and transcendent historical sites throughout Europe but the guide stole your money and left you in a cheap hotel in Branson, Mo., you would be devastated. The hopes and dreams you worked toward for years, as you saved money and planned itineraries, are all left broken, with nothing but disappointment and ill-treatment to show for it.
For thousands of us, this is our mid-faith crisis. The men and women we trusted to lead us to Jesus turned out to be heading entirely in the opposite direction. We’ve been taken, conned.
Our guides did not merely fail here and there, as all humans will, but egregiously worshiped an entirely different Lord and Savior: power, money, sex, themselves. We’re left with years of our lives (and sometimes hard-earned money too) down the drain, our hopes dashed, our trust gutted.
This feeling is betrayal. It’s important that we name this. That we sit with it. We trusted our leaders and heroes with all the hope and earnestness the good news of Jesus inspired in us, and we were betrayed.
Our heroes don’t only betray us; they also disciple us down a path that does not lead to life, does not lead to Jesus and a healthy expression of faith. Early on, we envision for ourselves a future of doing great things for God, of becoming people of influence. We end up part of the same system that hurt us so badly, that derailed our own faith journey. We hurt those coming behind us in turn. We hurt ourselves when it all falls apart. It’s no wonder we’re left feeling lost and devastated.
When our heroes of the faith show their true colors, when we realize they were serving their own appetites for power, wealth, influence or sex and not teaching us how to follow Jesus, love God and love each other through the fruits of the Spirit, we find ourselves with little but a broken heart to show for our investment, utterly disoriented and lost.
In our hypothetical travel scenario, we would report the tour guide and his company. We wouldn’t give up on Europe or believe for a second this musty hotel in rural America is the best Vienna, Paris and Venice had to offer. Similarly, the problem never was Jesus.
Jesus — the God who humbles himself, who meets us in our weakness and is close to the brokenhearted, who pours out rather than grasps, who suffers for his enemies rather than make them suffer, who insists the most important commandment is that we love each other — is still here, waiting with open hands.
Instead of looking for heroes, maybe it’s time to look around us for those who are truly worthy of praise. Let’s begin with a list, a list of godly characteristics. Not the ones many of us learned first: bold, brash, commanding (maybe harsh), confident (maybe arrogant). Instead, picture Jesus on the dusty ground, washing his disciples’ feet — to their utter disgust, as even a slave could refuse such a distasteful task. Embarrassing.
Yet Jesus pushed back on their critique, saying this is the way it must be with all Jesus followers. Not status seeking, but service. Not service that leads to applause but service that leads to a more compassionate, gracious life for everyone.
This article is adapted from Mid-Faith Crisis by Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague. ©2025 by Catherine McNiel and Jason Hague. Used by permission of InterVarsity Press.
Jason Hague serves as associate pastor of Christ’s Center Church near Eugene, Ore., and is author of Aching Joy: Following God Through the Land of Unanswered Prayer. Jason has written extensively on the subject of the Christian faith and autism, special needs families and his own spiritual journey toward hope for his own non-speaking autistic son. His writing has appeared in Christianity Today, Focus on the Family, and Fathom. He and his wife have five children.
Catherine McNiel serves as a chaplain, author, editor and speaker searching for the creative, redemptive work of God in our ordinary lives. She lives in the Chicagoland area with her husband, three children and one enormous garden. Catherine holds a master of arts degree in human service counseling and is finishing a master of divinity degree at North Park Theological Seminary. Her previous books include Fearing Bravely, All Shall Be Well, and Long Days of Small Things, which was an ECPA finalist for New Author.