Perhaps you have heard of the film title God Is Not Dead. It comes from a Newsboys album. The band sang with energy. They filled arenas. Their music inspired millions. But then the news came. Michael Tait, the frontman, confessed. He admitted to abusing drugs and alcohol. He admitted to touching men in ways that were not wanted. Multiple men came forward. They told their stories of being sexually assaulted on tour. Tait admitted that most of it was true. He had been living a double life. The Christian world was shocked. K-Love radio, the largest Christian station, stopped playing their music. The band members, families, and fans felt betrayed. Many asked, “How could this happen?”[1]
Friends, this is not just about one singer. This is about us. Because backsliding is real. Even after an excellent start, we can stumble. We can fail. We can lose our way. This reminds me of John Mark. He had such a promising start. His mother’s home was the upper room where 120 believers gathered, prayed, and received the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. He joined Paul and Barnabas on their first missionary journey as their capable and trustworthy assistant. But then… his journey took an unexpected turn. He deserted them. He went back to Jerusalem. Failure. Disappointment. Pain. And yet, that was not the end of his story. God can use even our failures as a means of grace.
Disappointment
In his book Where Is God When It Hurts, Philip Yancey tells the story of Dr. Paul Brand’s leprosy patients, who could not feel pain in their hands or feet. At first it might sound like a blessing, but in reality, it was their greatest danger, because without pain they burned themselves, injured themselves, and wore down their bodies without knowing it. Pain, Yancey reminds us, is not a curse but can be a gift, a messenger that humbles us and slows us down – slow enough to see, hear, and pay attention to God.
I think of my own story. Several years ago, I lost my sense of smell. Sometimes my children tease me and say, “Dad, you are lucky, because you don’t have to smell bad odors.” But my response is always the same: “Even for a moment, I would gladly smell everything, even the bad ones.” I consider myself living with disability. Since I don’t smell, it keeps me humble, knowing that I need to reply on others, and it also makes me more sensitive to those who have disabilities. In the same way, disappointment, pain, and suffering, though we wish them away, can become a means of grace – the very bridge that connects us to encounter the crucified Christ deeply and personally.
John Mark was at the bottom. Perhaps he couldn’t come out of the great pit, struggling forgiving himself. But there was one person who still believed in him and invested in him – Barnabas, the son of encouragement. Even after John Mark’s backsliding, Barnabas wanted to give him a second chance, including him in a second missionary journey. Paul opposed Barnaba’s suggestion. He insisted that they shouldn’t take John Mark along. Their argument became so intense that they went separate ways. Paul took a new helper, Silas, while Barnabas took John Mark (Acts 15:39).
Pieta
Barnabas reminds us of the better and perfect Encourager, Jesus Christ our Lord. Our merciful Redeemer comes to us, especially when we are in the pit of deep sorrow and confusion.
The Pieta (meaning “pity” or “compassion”) is a picture or sculpture of the Virgin Mary holding the dead body of Jesus on her lap. The Rondanini Pieta is the unfinished sculpture Michelangelo was working on until his death. Unlike his other masterpieces, it’s rough and unbalanced. Mary is holding Jesus from behind in great sadness. But if we look closely, it also looks as if the crucified Jesus is carrying her on his back, upholding and raising her up. The Bible says, “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been temped in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin.” (Hebrews 4:15) And because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help us when we are being tempted. (cf. 2:18) Jesus didn’t have to, but he went down into the greatest Pit, tasted death, became our sin, our sorrow, our failure, so that we could be set free from the pit of destruction and become his righteousness, his joy, his life. Jesus is able. Jesus makes us not just a better person, but a new person – no matter where we are in our journey.Rembrandt’s Journey
The artist Rembrandt’s journey resembles John Mark’s. He painted himself more than almost any other artists—nearly ninety self-portraits over his lifetime. In his youth, he painted with bold colors and proud gestures. He showed himself confident, eloquent, even glamorous, wrapped in fine clothes and wealth. But life changed. He lost his beloved wife, Saskia. He buried three of his four children. He watched his only surviving son, Titus, die young. His fame faded. His fortune was gone, his house repossessed, his name forgotten. He walked through the wilderness of grief, disappointment, and debt.
Yet in the midst of the pit, Rembrandt encountered Christ. Something deeper was happening. In those later self-portraits, you no longer see a proud young man in shining robes. You see an old, weathered face, painted with honesty and humility. The brushstrokes are simple, almost prayerful. And in his final years, Rembrandt placed his own face into the figure of Simeon, the old man in the temple who held the Christ child. Simeon’s eyes, full of age and sorrow, are also full of peace as he cried out, “My eyes have seen Your salvation!” (Luke 2:30). That was Rembrandt’s own confession. He had an excellent start, then layer upon layer of loss and drifting away, and finally returned home as a man who met Christ and was satisfied in him.Cactus Cross
Recently, Joyce gave me a cactus cross as a gift. In the desert, the cactus survives with thorns. The thorns guard its water, its very life. But when the cactus dies and dries, the thorns fall away. What is left behind can be shaped into something new. In the desert Southwest, people take that dry cactus wood and form it into a cross. Out of what was dry and dead, something life-giving is created.Now think about John Mark. He started his journey with fire and excitement. He was included on Paul and Barnabas’s mission. But when the road grew hard, he left. Maybe fear, maybe weakness, maybe pain, we don’t know. But we do know this: he failed. He backslid. Paul was disappointed. Barnabas was heartbroken. And John Mark was left with the sting of regret and shame.
Was that the end of his story? No. Like a cactus, what once seemed dry and wasted was taken by the hand of Christ, the Great Encourager and Redeemer. And he was reshaped. John Mark was faithful in his second missionary journey and soon regained Paul’s respect. Later in life, Paul himself would say, “Bring Mark, for he is useful to me.” He also worked with the apostle Peter. And he became the writer of the Gospel that bears his name, a Gospel of the Suffering Servant, who redeems failure, who restores the fallen, who creates something beautiful out of the ashes.
Was that the end of his story? No. Like a cactus, what once seemed dry and wasted was taken by the hand of Christ, the Great Encourager and Redeemer. And he was reshaped. John Mark was faithful in his second missionary journey and soon regained Paul’s respect. Later in life, Paul himself would say, “Bring Mark, for he is useful to me.” He also worked with the apostle Peter. And he became the writer of the Gospel that bears his name, a Gospel of the Suffering Servant, who redeems failure, who restores the fallen, who creates something beautiful out of the ashes.
Disappointment, failure, wilderness, pain, loss—these are not curses. They are the very bridges where we encounter the living Christ. Where a dry cactus is made into a cross. Where a failed disciple becomes a Gospel witness. May the Lord redeem our life and make something beautiful. Our crucified Christ is able. Amen.
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