Even still, Solomon says that wise people resist the urge to celebrate in such moments. Perhaps Solomon knew that releasing the animosity we harbor towards others is the only way the offended can be truly liberated.
Maybe he knew, as Henri Nouwen said, “Joy and resentment cannot coexist.” Too often we forfeit all manner of joy, like the elder brother in Jesus’ powerful parable of the prodigal, because we want those who’ve hurt us or others to pay, pay, pay.
But rather, because his patterns of behavior seem to illustrate instability of his emotional state and have resulted in the harm of others. (I know firsthand the difference that counseling can make.) So in the wake of this news, I find myself relieved but not gleeful.
I’m relieved the spiritual abuse is beginning to end.
Apparently if you give Charisma your email, they will send you an e-book and a bunch of stuff.
Several prominent church board members resigned, and the Acts29 church planting network that Driscoll founded kicked out Mars Hill Church and called on him to resign.
I’m relieved that I won’t have to wake to another one of Mark’s hurtful comments trickling down my twitterfeed.
I’m relieved that I won’t have to tell another non-Christian friend, “He doesn’t speak for most of us.” I’m relieved, even as I grieve that the story did not have a happier ending. For when we celebrate the demise of another, we wake to realize we are also celebrating our own.
For more than a decade, Driscoll has angered the masses by spewing offensive, misogynistic, and homophobic comments.
And in the past year, his ministry morphed into an all-out grease fire amid charges of plagiarizing in books, bullying and shunning former staff members, and spending 0,000 in ministry money for personal gain.
But as I’ve given it more thought, I cannot celebrate the demise of Mark Driscoll, and I don’t think Christians should either.