Philip Yancey’s affair raises a difficult question: Should a fallen Christian leader’s work still be trusted?

I was saddened to hear of Philip Yancey’s admission to an extended adulterous affair. Stories like his have become all too common. Yancey isn’t the first, and he won’t be the last Christian hypocrite to make the headlines. I share the sentiment of a recent commentator who said that, rather than being angry at the revelation, he was tired of having to apologize yet again for another high-profile Christian leader’s behavior.

The Yancey admission raises many questions. An eight-year affair is not a momentary lapse of judgment but a sustained pattern of both personal and public deception, requiring repeated choices, rationalizations, and concealment. It is made even more concerning because it occurred while he was actively involved in ministry. Did his admission come out because he knew it was going to be revealed by someone else and he was trying to save face by appearing genuinely contrite? I appreciate that he admitted his behavior disqualified him from continuing in the role of Christian thought leader, but the timing of his admission seems suspect, given that he is beyond retirement age and dealing with the progressively debilitating symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease. In fairness, however, he had to know his admission would forever call his life’s work into question and tarnish a legacy he spent decades polishing.

Ironically, in an article I authored about an Unbelievable? episode addressing the issue of fallen Christian leaders with Karen Swallow Prior and R.C. Sproul Jr., I cited Yancey.

“A new definition for a saint: a ‘life giver’ who makes others come alive in a new way, a garden variety human being through whose life the power and glory of God are made manifest even though the saint himself may be standing knee-deep in muck.” (Phillip Yancey)

Well, Philip now finds himself knee-deep in the muck of his own making. He has admitted to marital infidelity, repented, and is seeking restoration. Is he a soiled saint or a scheming scoundrel? 

Intellectual penance

How did Yancey justify personal behavior that contradicted the message he promoted? Did he consider his books and articles burnt offerings, sending a pleasing aroma to God to mask the stench of his sin? Was he theologically whipping himself with his writings, offering intellectual penance without paying the public price? Did he minimize the seriousness of his own adultery by believing he was helping far more people avoid it?

Cult of personality

One reason we find these admissions so distressing is that we have carved the faces of many of these people into the Mount Rushmore of faith, only to be forced to clean up the massive piles of rubble after their public image crumbles. We need to be careful not to make Yancey or any other Christian thought leader the face of Christianity, because doing so risks losing the beatific vision. St. Paul warned us about the dangers of building our faith on the work of others rather than on Christ. 

For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not being merely human? What then is Apollos? What is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, as the Lord assigned to each. I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth. So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth. (1 Corinthians 3:4-7) 

Yancey may have planted seeds and done some timely watering, but the miracle of that growth ultimately lies with God. 

Paul further warned thought leaders to be careful how they built on the foundation of Christ, noting that fire on the Day will test the kind of work they have done. 

Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one’s work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done (1 Corinthians 3:10-13)

Sadly, because Yancey chose to play with the matches of infidelity, his work will be tested prematurely by a refiner’s fire kindled by those who felt betrayed. His work will be scrutinized to see whether he left ashes or gold nuggets, whether he built a shrine to Philip or a monument to Christ. 

Peter Principle

We need to keep in mind two important principles when we place our faith in a Christian leader: first, the Peter Principle, which holds that we rise to our level of incompetence, and second, Lord Acton’s dictum that “power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Fame and popularity often elevate people to the level of their moral incompetence, and the power they acquire in the process facilitates their failings. 

People called to ministry should honestly evaluate whether they were called by God or recruited by personal pride. They must reflect on whether they have an innate desire to lead or be loved, and whether their goal is to share God’s word or to hear the sound of their own voice. It’s important to speak boldly for Christ, but we must be careful that our boldness doesn’t obscure the fact that God’s power is made perfect in weakness. Jesus may have delivered engaging stories and powerful mountain sermons, but He didn’t so much curry favor as court death. All His verbal agility paled in comparison to the act of laying down His life for us while we were still sinners.

Thinning truth

Yancey has produced an impressive corpus of written work. He has sold millions of books and has been quoted in thousands more. His writings have had an enormous impact on the faith of his readers and on me personally. I have loved all his books. “Soul Survivor” and “The Jesus I Never Knew” were pivotal in renewing my faith. I have not only been inspired by his writings but have also quoted him numerous times in my own books.

Do the revelations of his infidelity invalidate all his work? Should we burn his books, erase his memory from the annals of Christianity, put an asterisk by all his work, or accept that he was an imperfect man who conveyed bits of God’s truth?

I think most people would describe Yancey’s writings as orthodox rather than heretical. In fact, we likely wouldn’t be having this conversation about his intellectual output if the adultery had not been revealed. Therefore, removing his written work from our libraries or editing his quotes out of our books seems excessive. If we tell the world that we can erase God’s truth because of the behavior of one of His followers, our corpus will grow very thin, very quickly, and further fuel the secular world’s suspicions that even Christians don’t believe what they write. 

Yancey’s revelation raises a broader question for the Christian community: Are we to stop listening to the music of deconstructed musicians, the sermons of fallen pastors, or reading the written works of adulterous Christian apologists? I want to explore this question because it will remain an issue for the church as the hypocrisy of many Christian leaders continues to be exposed. 

Wielding Woe

Religious hypocrisy is nothing new. Jesus addressed the problem in his famous “woe” speech to the Pharisees, carefully distinguishing between God’s truth and its practice. Encouraging His followers to cultivate the former while being cautious of the latter. 

Then Jesus said to the crowds and to his disciples, “The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat, so do and observe whatever they tell you, but not the works they do.  For they preach, but do not practice. (Matthew 23:1-3) 

Jesus is more interested in the message than the messenger. 

If Christian leaders are guilty of heterodox teachings, then dialogue, scrutiny, and clarity are the order of the day. However, if their teachings are orthodox yet later revealed to have been delivered hypocritically, we mustn’t throw out the living water just because a sinner waded through it.  

Medium, motive or message

Jesus not only addressed this problem with the Pharisees but also with those outside His ministry who were casting out demons in His name. 

 John said to him, “Teacher, we saw someone casting out demons in your name, and we tried to stop him, because he was not following us.” But Jesus said, “Do not stop him, for no one who does a mighty work in my name will be able soon afterward to speak evil of me. For the one who is not against us is for us.  (Mark 9:38-40, my emphasis)

Jesus was more concerned with getting the message out than with criticizing the medium through which it was delivered. He even said that if His name remained on their lips long enough, they would be unable to speak ill of Him. He knew that if they repeatedly handled living water, their hands would become cleaner.  

In the first chapter of his letter to the Philippians, St. Paul expanded on this idea by noting that the motive of the one delivering the truth doesn’t matter if the gospel message is delivered.  

But that doesn’t matter. Whether their motives are false or genuine, the message about Christ is being preached either way, so I rejoice. And I will continue to rejoice. (Philippians 1:18)

Donatism revisited

The question of how to handle the work of hypocritical leaders was again raised in the fourth century AD during the Donatist controversy. Donatism was a heresy that erupted in Northern Africa after the persecution of Christians by the emperors Diocletian and Maximian (303-305 AD). During this pogrom, many Christian clergy avoided Roman punishment by renouncing their faith and turning over scripture to be destroyed. However, once the persecution ended, a group of religious purists, the Donatists, declared that the sacraments performed by those who had recanted and surrendered scripture were invalid. The controversy divided the church for decades until it was ironically ended by the Roman state with the Edict of Unity.

Augustine, who was Bishop of Hippo during this time, weighed in on the controversy by offering a theological critique of Donatist practices, noting that the sacraments administered by the apostate clergy were legitimate. In his letter “On Baptism, Against the Donatists,” he articulated the orthodox position:

“Nor is the water “profane and adulterous” over which the name of God is invoked, even though it be invoked by profane and adulterous persons; because neither the creature itself of water, nor the name invoked, is adulterous. But the baptism of Christ, consecrated by the words of the gospel, is necessarily holy, however polluted and unclean its ministers may be; because its inherent sanctity cannot be polluted, and the divine excellence abides in its sacrament, whether to the salvation of those who use it aright, or to the destruction of those who use it wrong.”

This controversy offers us additional insight into how to approach the orthodox writings of a Christian author whom many consider a traitor. I would argue that Yancey’s views are quite traditional, and we would continue to hold them in high regard had we never known of his marital infidelity; therefore, it is not his writings that are in question, but his character.

I suspect Jesus, Paul, and Augustine would find Yancey’s talk of Christ commendable and worthy of consideration, even though he was a hypocrite whose motives may not have been pure and who handled holy things with sinful hands. 

Jenga tower of faith

My greatest growth as a Christian came under the direction of a pastor who was later revealed to have had an adulterous relationship. During that time, I found myself rethinking the validity of everything he had taught. It was a crushing revelation, but it made me come to grips with the fact that God delivers His truth through fallen people. I had to conclude that human frailty doesn’t negate the Gospel; rather, it forces me to take it more seriously. 

I fear that if we discard truth because of the sins of those who put it forth, faith will become a Jenga tower, where we are told to remove weight-bearing blocks simply because hypocrites placed them. Will removing every theological truth contributed by a disgraced Christian leader cause the faith of many to collapse?

We need to remember that when we call out the hypocrisy of others, it is like the pot calling the kettle black or a cracked clay jar criticizing the porosity of a broken cistern. 

For my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water. (Jeremiah 2:13)

While it is important to patch the leaks, we must still rejoice in every remaining drop of living water delivered to the spiritually thirsty.

Hall of faith

The 11th chapter of Hebrews is often called the Christian Hall of faith, yet every distinguished member of that assembly had flaws that, by our evangelical standards, would likely disqualify them from writing a popular treatise. Abraham deceived kings into believing that Sarah was his sister. Moses was prevented from entering the promised land because he disobeyed God. Rahab, despite sheltering Jewish spies, was a prostitute. 

God works through imperfect people, and we’d best get used to it. That doesn’t mean we don’t call out sin. But we don’t eliminate the psalms because David was an adulterer and murderer. We don’t ignore the wisdom of Solomon just because he ended up a fool. We don’t cancel Peter for denying Jesus three times or Thomas for doubting. Paul’s writings are considered scripture, yet he calls himself the worst of sinners. If we eliminated the works of imperfect people, the Bible would be reduced to a Middle Eastern travel brochure.

God’s road of salvation from Abraham to Jesus was a wild series of twists and turns. It wasn’t that God’s roadmap was flawed, but that His chosen chauffeurs were driving under the influence of the fermented fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil and were unable to pass the good-and-evil sobriety test. It wasn’t until John came out of the desert, intoxicated with the Holy Spirit, that the path of salvation was made straight by putting Jesus in the driver’s seat.

Christian hypocrisy is a reason many leave the church, but I think it would be difficult to find a human being who doesn’t manifest some form of hypocrisy. I once heard someone say that what surprises young people isn’t hypocrisy but the denial of it. We become unbelievable when we try to hide hypocrisy. We need to call it out because that is exactly what Jesus would do, but we must also reconsider casting the first stone, since hypocrisy, rather than disqualifying us from salvation, makes us Jesus’ target audience.  

Book burnings

Unfortunately, as a Christian leader in the public eye, Yancey’s situation, which for most of us would be a private matter, has become a theological conundrum for the larger church. What do we do with the orthodox work of an unorthodox practitioner? 

Apologetics is about engaging ideas contrary to the gospel. We often quote atheists in our books despite their behavior because we know that their thoughts, not the way they live, have cultural consequences. We don’t cancel them; we give them a hearing, which suggests we need to treat the message and the messenger differently. Truth is found when an idea matches reality; therefore, curating truth based on the behavioral credentials of the truth-teller rather than the ideas he or she puts forth misses the point. We are called to be a lamp on a hill, but if our illumination is fueled by book burnings and not the Light of the world, I fear that we will only succeed in casting more shadows.

I personally won’t remove Philip Yancey’s quotes from my books, but when discussing his work, I will make sure people know what happened to him, so they understand the consequences of failing to walk the talk, especially when one assumes the mantle of Christian teacher.  

Do the math

We can be angry and disappointed with Yancey, but we must forgive him. Jesus taught us that forgiveness isn’t a one-time calculation but requires us to do the math and write “I forgive you” on the chalkboard seventy-seven times. The greatest punishment for Yancey’s adulterous affair will not be our anger but Jesus’ words to him, “Have I been with you so long, and you still do not know me, Philip?”

We need to be careful that our analysis of the situation doesn’t devolve into gossip. The details matter to Philip and his confessors, but as far as Jesus is concerned, we must offer forgiveness. Grace does not minimize the moral reality of his sins but plumbs its depths; Jesus’s death on the cross doesn’t make sin a distant memory but an ever-present reminder of how deep it goes. We need to remember that the gospel is good news for sinners, not a pat on the back for saints. 

The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I received mercy for this reason, that in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example to those who were to believe in him for eternal life. (1 Timothy 1:15-16)

1 Philip Yancey, Soul Survivor (New York: Galilee-Doubleday, 2003), 263.

2 Augustine – On Baptism, Against the Donatists, book III:15

Erik Strandness is a physician and Christian apologist who practiced neonatal medicine for more than 20 years and has written three apologetic books. Information about his books can be found at godsscreenplay.com