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Two Lessons I Learned from “The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill”

I first heard Mark Driscoll speak in 2012 at a church planter boot camp sponsored by Acts 29. During his message encouraging pastors to be devoted to their household, Driscoll bashed several famed Christian leaders including David Livingstone, the 19th century African missionary and anti-slavery crusader, for neglecting their wives and children.

I remember feeling disgusted by his rant. I didn’t understand why he had to stomp on the legacy of these long-gone saints in order to get us to love our families. I understood this derisiveness was integral to Driscoll’s appeal but it was too much for me. 

The conference also showed an Acts 29 promotional video that emphasized the importance of the lead pastor’s overt masculinity and strong leadership. The video exclusively showed young bearded White men. I thought to myself, “If that’s what they’re looking for, that’s not me.” The over-the-top macho-ness bordered on the comical.

Like many, I’ve been fascinated by Christianity Today’s The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill” podcast. The docuseries explores many themes—the history of the White megachurch, Driscoll’s take on masculinity and femininity, evangelical celebrity culture, spiritual abuse, demographics, exorcism, the power of social media and branding, and the positive spiritual impact of Driscoll’s ministry.

I don’t listen to “Rise and Fall” as an outsider looking in. The network Mark Driscoll brought to prominence—Acts 29—is now my organization. The ones whom I had clearly identified as not my people, are now my people.

In fact, four years after the boot camp, I found myself sitting in a hazy Reno hotel lounge surrounded by young bearded White men wearing skinny jeans, smoking cigars, and sipping whiskey. I was two weeks from starting as an Associate Pastor at Garden City, an Acts 29 church, and the men were pastors and church leaders at the Acts 29 West Annual Conference. (By this time, Mark Driscoll had already been removed from Acts 29 leadership.) 

Up to this point, I had spent almost my entire Christian life in a Chinese immigrant church. There was never alcohol at any church event, much less at a gathering for pastors. Smoking cigars was anathema. Now, here I was, a middle-aged, Asian American guy, trying not to stand out as I pretended to sip my whiskey and tried not to drop my cigar. Despite him having been removed from leadership, the Driscoll effect was real and palpable. 

Prior to the 2012 boot camp, I had heard about Driscoll through his blog, The Resurgence. Driscoll’s writing was incredible. I remember a short e-book he wrote about porn and masturbation. He discussed a difficult topic with a clarity, detail, humor, and integration of the gospel that I had never before encountered and haven’t encountered since. Driscoll’s courage and boldness to take on controversial topics inspired me. I didn’t align with many of his thoughts about masculinity but that didn’t bother me—the clarity of the gospel spoke powerfully to me.

As an insider with an outsider perspective, I’ve had so many thoughts as I’ve journeyed through this podcast but two reflections have risen to the surface. First, the lens of otherness as an Asian American Christian allows me to experience Mark Driscoll differently. Second, throughout history God has used, and will continue to use, flawed people for eternal impact.


The Gift of Otherness

In some important ways, I come to the White church in America as the Greeks came to a growing Jewish cult during the first-century. I come as one who overhears a conversation that was intended for someone else. And just as a subset of Jewish believers advocated for the circumcision of Gentiles, I recognize much of American evangelicalism admonishes me to become more “White”. 

For instance when I hear Driscoll talk about his specific vision of masculinity (quote from a recent sermon, “Real men don’t eat tofu.”), I instinctively know he’s not talking to me. I grew up with tofu, I will always eat tofu, and I believe there will be tofu in heaven. Even during his Seattle days, I didn’t resonate with his repeated admonitions for men to stop sleeping around and get a job. I’m the child of conservative Chinese immigrants, who grew up in the world’s epicenter of technological innovation. We embody “hard work” and not having sex before marriage. He was talking to someone else.

I know Driscoll’s legacy includes deep emotional damage to many. I talked to a friend last week who said the podcast’s depiction of misogyny, spiritual abuse, and celebrity evangelical culture deeply resonated with him. My friend, who is White, was homeschooled, grew up in a small town in the Midwest, and was immersed in White conservative evangelical culture. He and his wife are slowly navigating a deconstructive journey out of the emotional damage experienced from a narrow and coercive faith background. 

And yet as I listened to my friend, it became clear to both of us that my spiritual background in the Chinese church was a blessing. Ethnic churches sit adjacent to mainstream White evangelical culture. We have the blessing of other-ness. I read and listened to guys like Mark Driscoll, Joshua Harris, Tim Keller, and D. A. Carson because I wanted to not because I had to. None of their stuff was forced down my throat. 

As Asian Americans, we’re keenly aware of the curses of not having a seat at the table but sometimes we’re not aware of the blessings. It’s easier for me to diagnose problems as an outsider. In addition, I had no celebrity role models in evangelical culture. Francis Chan notwithstanding, there was no one who looked like me or spoke to my experience. My spiritual role models were men and women whom I knew personally, who invested in me, and who were just as flawed and imperfect as I was. When prominent leaders fail, I’m less surprised and less shaken because my faith was less invested in their celebrity. 

At the same time, Driscoll’s hyper-masculinity is exactly what’s wrong with evangelicalism. His caricature of manhood excluded more muted expressions. For him, being a man is about brashness, reactivity, and volume. Asian values of self-control, restraint, and humility are conspicuously absent. Earlier in his ministry, he may have been sensitive to power dynamics but as his celebrity grew, he seemed to flaunt his brutality. Driscoll’s extreme teaching about men reinforced the evangelical superiority complex regarding minority cultures.


Flawed People, Eternal Impact

People listen to the podcast and ask themselves “Do the ends justify the means?” The assumption behind the question is that God can somehow use flawed people in a way that completely eradicates the impact of their flaws. But I think that’s the wrong question. God has been using flawed men and women throughout history. It doesn’t justify their failings, but we can still recognize the fruit of their ministry. 

Let’s take Joshua Harris, who is actually discussed in a bonus episode on the “Rise and Fall” series. My Cru campus director introduced me to Harris’ purity culture teaching during college. Harris and I are the same age, and I remember reading I Kissed Dating Goodbye and thinking, “How can he know what he’s talking about? I can’t imagine he knows much more than me.” 

All my mentors who were part of the Chinese immigrant church were flawed people, and I determined Harris wasn’t an exception and decided not to take Harris’ teaching too seriously. My place on the evangelical periphery (and my egoism) helped me to interpret Harris’ teaching in broad terms. He did, however, have an indelible influence on Judy and me getting married in our early 20s. My wife is one of God’s greatest gifts to me and I was privileged to start the marital transformation process early in adulthood. Harris was an imperfect example and yet his words inspired me to value the sacredness of marriage by pursuing courtship in a selfless and intentional manner.

It is this attitude of sober receptiveness through which I encountered Driscoll. Underneath the vitriolic ranting, I saw a man in whom the fire of the gospel was a raging hearth. His flaws were distracting but I was used to that.

Last year I started an Acts 29 church plant out of Garden City Church. I am indebted to the Acts 29 network and Garden City Church for their investment in me as a disciple, pastor, husband, and father. Likewise, I am grateful for the legacy of Mark Driscoll in growing the Acts 29 network and for his influence on me as a disciple, pastor, husband, and father.

David Livingstone, the African missionary and anti-slavery crusader, sent his children back to London while he ministered in Africa. His wife died of malaria soon after. His kids were raised at a distance from him. He is known to have deeply regretted not spending more time with his wife and children. And yet he was known for his great Faith in God and fighting the slave trade. Was it worth it? 

The most important question isn’t whether or not the ends justify the means. We proclaim the gospel with words and with our lives. The means and the ends intersect. And if God uses imperfect means to achieve eternal ends, why are we surprised about negative consequences? We should be sober-minded about the works of the flesh and humbled by the fruit of the Spirit. 

We can also view published authors and famed speakers with more than a grain of salt. We can recognize, as we do with social media, that celebrity means we view someone through the lens of their highlights reels. Celebrity means we only see someone at their best. 

On the other hand, being in a spiritual community means openly confessing our sins to one another so that we might be built up in the humility of Christ’s. Celebrity leaders can never replace a confessing community walking in the light. 

For this is my confidence: It is by the scandalous grace of God that He employs flawed people to achieve significant eternal impact. 

In this past year of church planting, I have strived for perfection. I have wanted to avoid all the evil tendencies of narcissism, egoism, spiritual abuse, and bullying. But in doing so, I’ve been continually mired in a morass of anxiety, passivity, and indecision. I don’t want to live in fear of damaging others but rather with a firm hope that God can use me in spite of my flaws. 

Throughout church history, God has perfected his strength through the weakness of saints and will continue this work as the gospel of the kingdom is proclaimed. Let us boldly repent of our celebrity intoxication, to both elevate and/or denigrate Christian leaders. Let us instead, confess our sins to one another, deeply grateful for the forgiveness and grace we are afforded in Christ to use us in spite of our weaknesses.