Jerry Richardson, Alex Murdaugh, and You

On Wednesday, Jerry Richardson died. On Thursday, Alex Murdaugh was sentenced to life imprisonment for murdering his wife and son.

Richardson brought the Carolina Panthers to Charlotte and was a revered member of the community until allegations came out in 2017 concerning his treatment of employees. Murdaugh comes from a prominent legal family – indeed, his father, grandfather, and great-grandfather served as solicitors/district attorneys continuously from 1920 to 2006, in charge of every prosecution in five South Carolina counties, including Colleton where Murdaugh’s trial took place (and where my ancestors lived).

Though there is a huge difference in the severity of their sins, the parallel is striking: Both seemed to be unassailable; both fell dramatically from their esteemed positions.

How should we Christians respond to the sins and subsequent fall of these two men? Consider five ways:

First: We should not be surprised. The Apostle Paul tells us, “There is no one righteous, not even one” (Romans 3:10). Scripture tells us that even pillars in biblical history such as Abraham, Moses, David, and Peter sinned. Other than Jesus, your greatest hero is a sinner.

Second: We should be thankful when justice is done. Jerry Richardson had to step away from the team he loved; barring successful appeal, Alex Murdaugh will never leave prison. God sets up government in part to implement temporal justice, punishing those who do evil (1 Peter 2:14). Praise God for justice.

Third: These cases should drive home truths about sin we so easily ignore: Sin always deceives; sin always is discovered; sin always destroys. We are tempted to believe the lie that this appealing sin really will be good for me; that this time no one will ever know; and that I can avoid any negative consequences of the sin. But Scripture makes clear that every sin – from the first in the Garden of Eden to the one I contemplate today – leads to the destruction of joy, not the deepening of joy. In God’s presence, following His paths, there is fullness of joy – and nowhere else (Psalm 16:11). And Jesus tells us that in the next life if not in the present, “What you have whispered in private rooms shall be proclaimed on the housetops” (Luke 12:2-3).

Fourth: We should praise God the Father for providing forgiveness and reconciliation for sinners via the sacrifice of His Son on the Cross. Jesus’ first public exhortation is as true today as it was 2000 years ago: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (Mark 1:15). Jesus came not to gather to Himself people who were sinless, but to call sinners to repentance and thus salvation (Luke 5:32, 1 Timothy 1:15). And that salvation can extend even to murderers – like David, like Alex Murdaugh.

Finally: The lives of Jerry Richardson and Alex Murdaugh should prompt us to examine ourselves, to root out and bring to light the sin within us. Personalize the truths about sin: My sins deceive. My sins destroy. My sins will be discovered. Yet I am forgiven if I repent, trusting only in Jesus’ sacrifice for my standing before God. Thus, we should repent from our known sins, turning away from them, and pray that God would reveal to us those we don’t recognize. As David prays in the psalm we are presently memorizing: “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!” (Psalm 139:23-24).

[I first heard the three “sin always …” statements in a 1985 sermon on David and Bathsheba by Gary Vanderet; it does not seem to be available on the internet. I used those statements in a 1998 sermon and a 2018 blog post based on that sermon – Coty]

Should We Have Heroes?

Should we have heroes? Should we look to people as examples, to show us what is possible and to spur us on to what we can become?

There are arguments on both sides.

On the one hand, honoring heroes can be dangerous. Some Sunday School curricula are based around highlighting certain biblical characters as heroes, as examples that we should emulate. Such curricula – whether by intent or not – can distort the story of the Bible, transforming it from a story of God and His acts to a story of great men and women. Think of Abraham, of Moses, of Samuel, of David; think of Peter, of Paul, of John, of Paul. Scripture tells us of their weaknesses, their sins, and their flaws. They achieve greatness by God’s grace in spite of who they are as persons. God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit is the hero in their stories.

We easily slip into similar errors when we make heroes of men and women in history: Stories of human achievement, of overcoming all odds, of tremendous sacrifice, and of devotion to country can idolize the person, overlook human sin, and minimize the role of God.

On the other hand, rightly told, stories of men and women like us who attain greatness can lead us to raise our vision above the commonplace, and help us to become what God intends us to be.

In a new book, If You Can Keep It: The Forgotten Promise of American Liberty, Eric Metaxas argues that our tendency in the US over the last fifty years to debunk national heroes is one of several developments that have put our republic at risk. The concept of a country united not by ethnicity and language but by the idea of freedom was strange, foreign, and new at time of this nation’s birth. If “all men are created equal and . . . are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights” then those of all classes, all incomes, and all religions are to participate in government “of the people, by the people, and for the people.” What does such government look like? How can it continue to exist? What keeps us together as a people from generation to generation? Metaxas argues that one important element is the telling and retelling of the stories of the great men and women who have exemplified the ideals of America and sacrificed for the furtherance of those ideals.

He contends:

We are more than political ideas. We are a people who live those ideas out in common. Knowing those ideas is a vital first step, but part of how we know them is knowing how they came into being and how they were subsequently lived out in history. So by pushing away these common stories of our heroes, we have allowed ourselves to be drained of our very common identity as Americans. Our emotions must be as engaged in “keeping” the republic as our minds are engaged in it. It is the real stories of heroes like Washington and Nathan Hale and others that help us to properly feel the power of the ideas behind them. . . . By deciding that every potential hero is too flawed to celebrate and venerate, or that such stories are somehow corny, we have done a grave disservice to several generations and to the country. (p. 131)

So Metaxas includes stories of great men to illustrate his point: Americans George Washington, Nathan Hale, Benjamin Franklin, and Paul Revere, as well as Englishmen George Whitefield and William Wilberforce. Washington in particular “lives in a world in which virtue and honor are accepted as vital to the life they all wish to lead” – something we have lost as a country in the intervening years (p. 165).

Metaxas agrees with the point above about the danger of idolizing heroes. He is careful to argue that we must be open about the flaws of our heroes as well as the flaws in our country’s history:

Heroism and ignominy both are part of our history. The only question is whether, having seen both, we can repent of the one and rejoice and be inspired by the other. Or whether we will let one of them tempt us so far away from the other that we have a deeply distorted view. (p. 227)

So he says we should be inspired, even as we acknowledge the weaknesses and sins that come out in every country, and in all men and women.

So should we have heroes? How should we judge this biblically?

Heroes are a lot like parents. We parents must raise our children well; we must set an example for them; we must teach them Scriptural truths and live out those truths before them. We will fail. We will sin, against others and against them. We are flawed. But nevertheless, in a God-centered family, the children should be able to look at their parents, model themselves after the good aspects of their parents’ lives, and learn from their parents’ flaws.

Just so with heroes from past generations. We can and should look to a George Washington and learn from his devotion to others, his sacrifice for the common good, his wise leadership, and his critical stepping away from power after two terms. We can and should honor him, use him as a model, and be encouraged by his example of what God chooses to do through men. At the same time, we can see his limitations, how his view of slavery was shaped by his culture, how his view of God, similarly shaped by his society, was not entirely biblical, and be careful not to fall into similar errors.

Jesus is our only hero without flaws. We must look to Him above all. But we also need to see examples of other sinners, others stained like us, who through dependence on God, through turning away from themselves and giving up their own goals and comforts, glorify Him and serve their fellow men. Our role likely will be less prominent than theirs; our accomplishments likely won’t result in recognition now and biographies in the future. But as we follow Christ – and as we learn from and are spurred on by others who have followed Christ – we too can play key roles in God’s plan to fill the earth with the knowledge of His glory as the waters cover the sea.

So praise God for heroes. May we learn from their flaws, be inspired by their lives, living to God’s glory – and so become heroes ourselves.