The King of Hillsong’s tumble was more than just a fall.
Carl’s story isn’t unique.
Another pastor’s hanky panky fall from grace moment.
On the surface, it’s a classic case of lust and betrayal, but there’s another story to this situation often overlooked.
And that’s distraction.
I want to stress that this is not an expose to vilify or placate him, but instead a deeper look at the broader systemic issues facing man’s desire to seek distraction.
So let’s start at the beginning.
Turn back with me to the textual history of the creation of man: the familiar story in the garden of Eden and the resplendent apple on the tree, its taut skin gleaming in the morning sun.
We all know how the story goes.
The battle of the mind fighting the thought of biting into the honey-crisp flesh — far too delicious and impossible to ignore.
But beneath the story of the ‘forbidden apple’ — which wasn’t flavoured with the sweetness of sin but instead symbolic of man’s battle with temptation — was a greater spotlight on the power of distraction.
And distraction is the devil’s greatest pastime.
Today is no different. We are surrounded by shiny apples just waiting to be eaten. In C.S Lewis’ satirical masterpiece The Screwtape Letters, Screwtape knows this, so he sheds light on how easy it is and how foolish we are.
He illuminates his recent graduate, Wormwood, also known as an intensely bitter herb that is used to stimulate the imagination and increase sexual desire. Perfectly fitting for a tempter from Hell who has been assigned to distract his patient from God:
You will be gradually freed from the tiresome business of providing Pleasures as temptations. As the uneasiness and his reluctance to face it cut him off more and more from all real happiness, and as habit renders the pleasures of vanity and excitement and flippancy at once less pleasant and harder to forgo (for that is what habit fortunately does to a pleasure) you will find that anything or nothing is sufficient to attract his wandering attention.
We all know the familiar Bible story of King David’s temptation. If anyone was susceptible to distraction, it was him. David, during a stressful time and most likely full of decision making, was sidetracked. All it took was a couple of looks one evening, and the imprinted imagery began to fester in an unhealthy way. As the most powerful man in the kingdom of Israel and Judah, David was certainly used to getting what he wanted. His lust wasn’t waning or fleeting, but stirring. He didn’t cut it off; instead, he let it linger. It was as if David was welcoming the distraction: a pleasant and alluring intermission to the chaotic and demanding stage play of his life.
He could’ve acted like Joseph, who fled from Potiphar’s wife. David’s case seemed mild compared to Joseph’s. Joseph had a woman literally grabbing him by the hand and throwing herself at him. David merely saw a woman changing out of the corner of his eye. This is often how distraction works. David was caught off guard, whereas Joseph was focused and aware. Distraction also comes at a time when it knows it can entice. David, whose men were in the midst of battle, most likely found looking at Bathsheba calming on his senses and an escape from reality. At the time it couldn’t have been any further from the decisions of war. But I highly doubt David would have paused to dance with lady lust had he caught a glimpse of her mid-battle. The question is, as he stood on the balcony looking out under the night sky, was there a part of him that willed distraction? Was he searching for something to lose himself in? Is there a part of us that wills distraction?
Most of my own battles with lust have been due to distraction. I’m distracted because a big part of me silently wishes to step out on a balcony. It’s not because I long to be with the person embodying my lust but because I seek anything that’ll alleviate the stress and pressures of life. Why is it that when we read about politicians, celebrities or people high up in the corporate ladders of life, men in power like David, and Carl, they too confess to their own Bathsheba moments? Their shiny apple, harmless in appearance, offering a temporary distraction from the responsibilities of life. Desperate to be edified, the soul is tricked by a weak mind into believing that that which is fleeting is sustainable.
Carl’s world existed under a spotlight, always on stage, always performing and always in a position of power amongst powerful celebrity friends. Not to mention flying the banner for a faith always under scrutiny. Does this excuse his transgressions? No. Should he repent and take responsibility for his actions? Of course. Carl was clearly running away from something bigger than he could live up to. An answer we might never know. Yet, a more important question is what does this say about the institution he represented? It’s evident that the charismatic culture of the western church is becoming bigger than the message of the gospel. You only have to do a google search to see what is more popular — the message or the preacher? With a focus towards keeping up with culture and being seen as ‘relevant’ it begs a distraction we ought to be more concerned about.
Lewis’ Screwtape Letters, veiled in Wormwood’s words, insightfully illustrates the devil on our shoulder: the whisper in our ears and the taunting to temptation, but beneath the comedy is a haunting reminder of a war raging within. When we lose focus, we inevitably lose our will to live — the life we’re called to live.
