“If it could happen to somebody like _________!” After about three decades of vocational ministry, I’ve heard this sentiment uttered by many Christians whenever a famous preacher they looked up to fell into disqualifying sin (Steve Lawson being the latest). Often, the statement is spoken by someone who had never personally met the fallen preacher. Perhaps they heard him preach in a large arena or auditorium or from the speakers of their personal computer many times.

I reflexively want to respond with the question, “Somebody like what?” What would they know about the preacher’s character or spiritual walk just because they heard them preach? Many evangelicals would look down on the whole social media influencer phenomenon. The influencer’s followers don’t know them. They are more of a brand and an image than a person. Their lives often do not match their brand. In truth, our approach to celebrity preachers is almost as naïve and empty.

Years ago, an older pastor warned me that giftedness is not godliness. It stuck with me. It is true but easily ignored when someone’s oratory skill sweeps us away. Learning how to communicate and deliver a powerful sermon is not holiness. Sometimes, it is the effective cover utilized to pursue a life of ungodliness and rebellion. It is possible to become a gifted religious shopkeeper who has learned the evangelical business and now sees themselves as above those consumers to whom they preach. 

Masquerading as shining lights in the world, some who preach live in darkness and embody the warning of Isaiah echoed later by Jesus, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matt. 15:8). Their piety is a mirage veiled by their scriptural expositions. They become impressed by their own service and perceived usefulness to God. They unhitch sanctification from faith and cling to their success as the ground of their self-justification, even as they eloquently preach justification by faith alone. 

An unyielding sense of unworthiness is foundational to ongoing spiritual growth. Divine grace induces humility from all who truly, by faith, embrace it. Justification is by faith alone, and so is sanctification. The apostle Paul asserts: “For this is the will of God, your sanctification” (1 Thess. 4:3); Peter commands, because “he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct” (1 Pet 1:15). The preacher whose sermon we read in Hebrews speaks of “the holiness without which no one will see the Lord” (Heb 12:14). In sanctification, there is no room for self-pride, self-centeredness, self-satisfaction, or self-admiration.

The godliest people I have ever known have never been people with the most extraordinary credentials or the most prominent platforms. They have been people whose lives do not induce the applause of multitudes, people for whom humility was not a theological concept but an abiding reality. 

It is tragic when you find out someone you have never personally met has fallen into sin. When it is someone who has great public visibility as a leader in Christ’s church, it is heartbreaking. But we must be clear: their giftedness in preaching never meant they were godly. 

Sanctification is about following Christ, not gaining followers.