Grace and Lies: A Mars Hill Story

Clifford Smith on January 26, 2023

Pastor Mark Driscoll, perhaps most (in)famous now as the unintentional star of the “Rise and Fall of Mars Hill,” podcast, recently tweeted against “deconstructionists,” saying that they couldn’t have a relationship with Christ while hating his Church.

It was classic Driscoll. Pugnacious, intentionally divisive, having just enough of a point in the abstract that his defenders insist his foes “just don’t get it,” or deftly suggest his critics aren’t “really” Christians. Meanwhile, Mark, by implication, is the example that ought to be looked up to. It’s a uniquely toxic way of attacking spiritual doubt and conflict.


Of course, “deconstructionism,” depending on how you define it, can be destructive to faith. In context, however, Driscoll is subtly suggesting that anyone who is attacking him, or his enterprises, is really attacking Christ and his church writ large. And that is indefensible in virtually any context, let alone concerning Driscoll, who has a well-documented history of narcissism, spiritual and emotional abuse, and constant gaslighting. Perhaps even worse is the idea, slyly yet clearly implied, that there is no desire from God to reach these people before they change to his liking.

There are already an untold number of stories about people who were hurt by Mark’s abuses. But ultimately, I’m not here to damn Mark yet again. I’m here to talk about something good that came of it.

In the summer of 2005, I’d gone to Mars Hill for about 2 ½ years, and I was standing in the foyer of the flagship campus in northwest Seattle. It was my last Sunday as a regular attender; I was moving out of town to attend grad school. I said to a friend, the identity of whom I struggle to remember, “Someday, this is all going to go away. And it’ll be because nobody was around to tell Mark he was too much the center of all this.”

I remember being shocked by my own words. Sure, in the back of my mind, I’d noticed Mark’s obvious cockiness, and even arrogance, despite his massive talent. I’d noticed friends of mine become cultlike in their devotion to Mars Hill, friends I knew were desperate for a cause to believe in as much as a spiritual guidance. I noticed that Mark almost always preached Sunday, and on the rare occasion he didn’t, the congregation seemed disappointed, upset even. I realized that wasn’t healthy. While I’d noticed Mars Hill’s rapid growth, I’d never given it significant thought to it imploding.

I immediately wondered why I’d just said that. I don’t know if it was what some call a prophetic word, or simply me stating ideas in the back of my mind that I hadn’t verbalized. Either way, I knew I was going to remember my words.

It took nine years, but my prediction came true when, on October 31, 2014, Mars Hill dissolved among the crushing weight of scandals that would be too numerous and detailed to discuss here.

There are so many people that went for so much longer, and that were hurt far worse than I, that it would be petty for me to discuss my wounds. But when I heard of various scandals, I more-or-less believed them because of what I’d seen. I was surprised, not by the types of problems revealed since, but by the depths to which they descended. I remain saddened, disgusted, and angered by it all.

But there is a flipside to even this story.

In 2002, I’d graduated from Washington State University, and then worked on a local campaign for State Representative. We lost 51-49. A short time later, I was delivering pizza again, much like I’d done through college. It was the most lost I’d ever been in my life. I’d grown up in a Christian home, but I’d never “made my faith my own,” as they say. I struggled mightily in college, saved, really, by a kindly couple in a church I found that invited kids over to their place, without agenda or expected payback, and exemplified Christ’s love to me. I had trouble forgetting that.

But that didn’t make getting out of the trap I was in any easier. Having escaped college more than conquered, I found myself with no obvious job prospects, no real direction about where I wanted to go, and certainly no idea about what it all had meant. In my own eyes, I was a failure.


Saying I was in my early 20’s and and had plenty of time was beside the point. More was expected of me, and I knew it. Years later, I learned that my mother expressed worries about my direction to my grandfather, saying, “He’s delivering pizza, and doesn’t seem to have any direction. I just don’t know,” to which my grandfather replied, “Don’t worry, he’s a good kid. He’ll figure it out.” It’s something that I wished I’d heard then. I didn’t see myself that way at the time. Perhaps, it wasn’t yet true.

My friends at the time were mostly frequenters of Seattle’s large and influential independent music scene, which, it might shock out-of-towners, had a large Christian component. Many of my friends I’d known since high school. It was the demographic that originally built Mars Hill. Mars Hill not only hosted our concerts, but Mark spoke our language. He understood our lack of direction, the need for a cause, and the gnawing feeling that our society was mistaken, and that Christ had something to offer. But he also understood that we didn’t feel comfortable in the churches we’d grown up in. Mark never, as Dorothy Sayers once said, “pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified him ‘meek and mild’ and recommended him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies.” He knew well we’d never accept something so obviously phony as that. We started attending Mars Hill en masse.

For an entire year when I attended Mars Hill, the sermons were on nothing but the book of Genesis. Few stories in the Bible are as well-known as Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, Abraham and Isaac, and so on. Yet Mark made it seem alive. The claws were out, not pared.

Nonetheless, for the better part of that year, I still felt lost and angry. At God, at the world, but mostly, at myself. I knew God had given me all kinds of advantages: a nice home, loving parents, better than average intelligence (if perhaps less-than-desirable discipline), and I never fell into any of the obvious self-destructive behaviors. But in my view, I’d simply squandered it all. Not just because of my lack of a career path, but more fundamentally for my lack of any depth of commitment to God.

Then we got to the story of Joseph. His coat of many colors. Being sold into slavery by his brothers. Interpreting Pharaoh’s dreams. Becoming the second most powerful and wealthy man in Egypt, etc.

The famine that led Joseph’s brothers to go to Egypt for food was quite a story. The reconnection of Joseph to his brothers. The ultimate salvation of his people from famine because of this reconciliation. It seemed more alive than before, but it did not seem different.

Then, at the end of one sermon, Mark hit me with something different. I’m paraphrasing from memory, but it amounted to this:

“So, Joseph did all this great stuff. Where is he in the rest of the Bible?”

Following an awkward silence, he continued.

“He barely shows up. Joseph is basically a non-entity for the rest of the story.”

People were shocked. Or, at least, I was shocked.

“But Joseph’s brother, Judah, is a different story. Why? As we’ve been reading, Judah helped sell his brother into slavery. Judah’s first two sons were so evil God struck them dead. Judah then impregnated his former daughter-in-law, Tamar, believing she was a prostitute, and then tried to get her killed for sexual sins, ignoring his own. By the time he reached middle age, he’d done essentially nothing good. If we’re keeping score, this guy is a disaster.”

I remember being stunned.

“But it was Judah who guided his family to Egypt. It was Judah who took responsibility to bring Benjamin into Egypt despite his father’s fear, to please Joseph. It was because of Judah that they were ultimately able to make peace with the brother he sold into slavery. And we, as Christians, worship the Lion of Judah. Jesus came from the tribe of Judah. That’s Judah’s legacy.”

To this day, I have difficulty saying this, or even thinking about this, without tears coming to my eyes. The message that God was sending, to me, was clear: It doesn’t matter how much you’ve failed. I can still use you for good. You have not squandered your life if you are still with me. If I can still use someone like Judah, I can still use you. If I still love someone like Judah, I still love you.

I suddenly realized the truth of something I had been told 1000 times, but never fully accepted: God can use anybody, and nobody is beyond his love.

Really understanding this truth changed my life.

In the years that followed, we learned more about the importance Mark put on the idea that the men of the church needed to, as I’ve heard it paraphrased, “Pull your pants up and get a job.” This idea, while a defensible cultural critique of young men in Seattle, quickly became, in my view, a toxic demand for cultural conformity, of “up by your bootstraps,” masculinity, having little or nothing to do with Christ and his message of grace. It was, in essence, a cultural version of the prosperity gospel: follow Jesus and become a “real man.” Was the message Mark intended? That Judah “Pulled his pants up and got a job,” and thus was successful?

I don’t know. But the message God gave me was different: God could use anybody for good. Including Judah. Including me. What I heard, if imperfect and incomplete, is far closer to the truth.

That, to me, was a miracle.

I told this story to a friend recently, and she pointed out something I’d missed. Namely, that my story in Mars Hill, was ultimately the same as a story about Mars Hill. In other words: even the complete trainwreck of a church it was, even as much damage as Mark caused (and is still causing, frankly), God used even something this flawed for good.

God is ever-present, looking to use anyone who is willing for good. As he did Judah, as he did even Mars Hill and Mark Driscoll. And even someone like me.

  1. Comment by Tom on January 26, 2023 at 5:38 pm

    God’s grace. His unfathomable, infinite, boundless grace. Praise and thank Him for it every day!

  2. Comment by Gary Bebop on January 27, 2023 at 12:20 pm

    One of the most difficult lessons (and we are slow learners) is that God’s ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8). There is a sovereign will at work to bring about all God intends, but we are not privy to its secrets. In a variation of this thought, C.S. Lewis writes, “When the most important things in our life happen we quite often do not know, at the moment, what is going on” (from Mere Christianity).

  3. Comment by David Mu on January 30, 2023 at 12:47 am

    The photo for the article is, indeed, worth a thousand words.

  4. Comment by Matt Ayars on January 30, 2023 at 11:22 am

    That’s a good word, brother. Good word. Bless you.

  5. Comment by Randy Thompson on January 30, 2023 at 12:26 pm

    This was thoughtful, wise, and helpful. Thanks. When you listen for God’s voice, it can come in some mighty strange packages.

  6. Comment by George on January 30, 2023 at 1:02 pm

    It’s said “it’s an I’ll wind indeed that doesn’t blow some good to someone “. I agree but I would expect my preacher to wear some decent clothing and not use any foul language when addressing his congregation. Actually I would prefer that he treat all he comes in contact with with some basic respect. He probably was successful in bringing many to Jesus but how many did he drive away. I wonder.

  7. Comment by Phil on January 30, 2023 at 4:47 pm

    I’ll never forget when all the accounts of Driscoll’s abuses first came to light years ago, Mark Tooley wrote an article on here condemning Driscoll’s…wearing of jeans during worship? That’s literally the only problem the IRD had with anything he had done. Overdue pieces like this won’t hide the fact that the IRD refused to speak out against Driscoll’s abuse when it would have mattered most.

  8. Comment by Salvatore Anthony Luiso on January 31, 2023 at 12:45 pm

    I’m happy that the author benefited from what he heard Mark Driscoll say about Judah.

    It’s even more remarkable than he knows, because much of what Driscoll said is wrong.

    Driscoll says of the patriarch Joseph:

    “So, Joseph did all this great stuff. Where is he in the rest of the Bible?”

    “He barely shows up. Joseph is basically a non-entity for the rest of the story.”

    Strictly speaking, that’s true. But it’s also true that Judah is hardly mentioned in the rest of the Bible.

    True, the *tribe* of Judah is mentioned after Genesis. What about the tribe of Joseph?

    There is no tribe named after Joseph. Rather, there are *two* tribes which are named after his two sons: Ephraim and Manasseh.

    Yes, as Driscoll mentions, Judah did some bad things, but he also did some good things. (He could have mentioned that Judah persuaded his brothers to sell him into slavery rather than kill him.)

    But all of the good things that Judah did are recorded in the Book of Genesis, not in “the rest of the story”.

    Does Judah deserve credit that “Jesus came from the tribe of Judah”?

    I would not say that Judah earned or deserved it.

    No one *could* earn or deserve it.

  9. Comment by Roger on February 1, 2023 at 4:22 pm

    Mars Hill brings to mind, the Apostle Paul. In Romans 4 : 5, ” But to him that worketh not; but believeth on him that justifieth the “ungodly” his faith is counted for righteousness.” Judah did some ungodly things but he owned up to what he did. God cannot do with those that think they are righteous already, but God can with the ‘ungodly”. Note his faith is counted ( an accounting term, also could be imputed). Judah may have turned out more righteous than Joseph. A sign of Grace back in Genesis.

  10. Comment by Candi on February 5, 2023 at 11:57 am

    Praising Abba that, even though Mark was spewing a doctrine of demons, Yeshua was still able to reach your ears! He KNEW you were seeking Him!!! I’m so happy that seed was planted! Thank you for sharing this, and just so you know, Joseph’s story is important! There are so many parallels to Messiah! He was betrayed for thirty pieces of gold! Messiah was betrayed for thirty pieces of silver! And so many more!!! Keep digging, the Father knows you are seeking!

    Keep asking, and it will be given to you. Keep searching, and you will find. Keep knocking, and the door will be opened to you. ~Matthew 7:7 HCSB

  11. Comment by Jim Robb on February 14, 2023 at 2:24 pm

    Really well-written and insightful! I love it that God can use anyone. Judah . . . and even Mark Driscoll!

  12. Comment by Cliff on March 14, 2023 at 11:01 am

    “The photo for the article is, indeed, worth a thousand words.”

    If, by that, you mean Mark’s ripped jeans speaks to his ungodliness, or something like that…no, actually, you have it precisely backwards.

    Mark’s ripped jeans and the willingness to ignore stuffy, cultural superiority of the pious crowd, was the single best thing about him. And it’s why he was able to reach people who were unreached.

    The worst thing about him is that he betrayed those people, over time, by becoming the hero of his own story and by demanding conformity to his own cultural desires, rather than humbling himself and affirming the love of Christ for all in a way that transcended irrelevant cultural demands.

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