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I have posted it here, because those in and out of ministry should be aware of this story, and the many more out there who involved in the Praise & Worship aspect that the very lives they lead can and do affect many others.
I stopped being shocked by fallen Christian leaders when I was 17 years old.
Let me tell you why.
I went to a gospel quartet concert here in Birmingham. It was phenomenal. They sang. They danced. They shouted. They cried. One of the singers got so “full of the Holy Ghost” they had to carry him out.
For me, it was a powerful spiritual moment.
After the concert, I stopped to get gas. While I’m standing at the pump, a car pulls up. Music blasting so loud you could hear it down the street.
It wasn’t gospel.
It was secular blues. The kind of music we were taught you don’t listen to—and you definitely don’t blast it for the whole block to hear.
The man jumped out of the car.
It was him. The same singer they just carried out of the building 30 minutes earlier.
He marched into the gas station and came out with a beer in his hand and another one in a paper bag.
This man just finished singing about Jesus. Just finished performing like heaven had touched him. They just finished carrying him off the stage.
And now he’s standing at a gas pump with a beer, blasting blues music like none of it ever happened.
I was 17.
And that was the day I learned:
the stage is not the soul.
I’m telling you this because another Christian artist just fell.
Michael Tait—the voice of DC Talk, the lead singer of Newsboys, the man behind “Jesus Freak” and “God’s Not Dead”—confessed to 20 years of cocaine abuse, alcoholism, and sexually assaulting men.
Twenty years.
While he was on stage singing about the power of God, he was living in destruction behind the scenes.
His own words: “I was not the same person on stage Sunday night that I was at home on Monday.”
And everyone is shocked. Devastated. Questioning their faith.
But I’m not shocked.
Not because I don’t care—I do.
Not because it doesn’t bother me—it does.
But because I stopped putting people on pedestals a long time ago.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Gifting is not godliness.
Someone can be anointed to sing and broken in their soul at the same time.
Talent will take you places that character can’t keep you.
The gift will function even when the person is falling apart. That’s why it’s called a GIFT—it’s not something they earned. It’s something God gave.
But the gift operating doesn’t mean the life is in order.
“Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name… and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you.’” — Matthew 7:22-23
You can minister to thousands and be a stranger to God.
2. Nobody starts off planning to fall.
I don’t believe Michael Tait woke up one day and said, “I’m going to be a Christian who does cocaine. I’m going to be a worship leader who assaults people.”
It doesn’t start like that.
It starts with depression and no one to talk to.
It starts with peer pressure and wanting to fit in.
It starts with one compromise that leads to another.
It starts with success that outpaces accountability.
And before you know it, you’re living two lives—and you don’t know how to stop.
“Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.”
— 1 Corinthians 10:12
The fall doesn’t happen all at once. It happens one hidden decision at a time.
3. People go back to what’s familiar.
When someone gets delivered but never gets discipled, they’re one bad season away from returning to what they know.
Deliverance without discipline doesn’t last.
Freedom without structure doesn’t hold.
You can have a genuine encounter with God and still end up back in bondage if nobody teaches you how to walk it out.
“When an unclean spirit goes out of a man, he goes through dry places, seeking rest, and finds none. Then he says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when he comes, he finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first.” — Matthew 12:43-45
An empty house is a vulnerable house.
4. The industry protects the profitable.
They called Michael Tait’s behavior “Nashville’s worst-kept secret.”
Fifty people knew. The investigation took two and a half years. This wasn’t hidden—it was ignored.
Because he was too big. Too connected. Too profitable.
And the people who could have held him accountable chose to look the other way.
That’s not just a Michael Tait problem. That’s an industry problem. That’s a church problem.
We protect platforms and neglect people.
We celebrate the gift and ignore the cracks.
And then we act shocked when it all falls apart.
5. Your faith was never supposed to be built on a person.
If Michael Tait’s fall shakes your faith, your faith was built on the wrong foundation.
He didn’t die for you. Jesus did.
He didn’t save you. Jesus did.
He was just a man with a microphone and a gift.
The song “God’s Not Dead” is still true—even if the man who sang it was spiritually dying while he performed it.
The message outlives the messenger.
“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”
— Hebrews 13:8
Men will fail you. God won’t.
So what do we do now?
We stop being shocked.
Not because we stop caring—but because we stop being naive.
We hold leaders accountable BEFORE they fall, not just after.
We build systems of accountability instead of pedestals of celebrity.
We remember that everyone on a stage is still human—still fighting battles, still capable of falling, still in need of grace AND truth.
We protect our own hearts by keeping our faith anchored in Christ and not in personalities.
And when someone does fall, we grieve—but we don’t lose our footing.
Because our footing was never supposed to be on them in the first place.
I learned that at a gas station in Birmingham, AL when I was 17.
The man who carried on like heaven had touched him was buying beer 30 minutes later.
And my faith didn’t shake.
Because my faith wasn’t in him.
It was in the God he was singing about.
And that God is still on the throne—no matter who falls off the stage.
Credit: Aubrey L. White
Tait admitted to these instances on June 10, 20235
I stopped being shocked by fallen Christian leaders when I was 17 years old.
Let me tell you why.
I went to a gospel quartet concert here in Birmingham. It was phenomenal. They sang. They danced. They shouted. They cried. One of the singers got so “full of the Holy Ghost” they had to carry him out.
For me, it was a powerful spiritual moment.
After the concert, I stopped to get gas. While I’m standing at the pump, a car pulls up. Music blasting so loud you could hear it down the street.
It wasn’t gospel.
It was secular blues. The kind of music we were taught you don’t listen to—and you definitely don’t blast it for the whole block to hear.
The man jumped out of the car.
It was him. The same singer they just carried out of the building 30 minutes earlier.
He marched into the gas station and came out with a beer in his hand and another one in a paper bag.
This man just finished singing about Jesus. Just finished performing like heaven had touched him. They just finished carrying him off the stage.
And now he’s standing at a gas pump with a beer, blasting blues music like none of it ever happened.
I was 17.
And that was the day I learned:
the stage is not the soul.
I’m telling you this because another Christian artist just fell.
Michael Tait—the voice of DC Talk, the lead singer of Newsboys, the man behind “Jesus Freak” and “God’s Not Dead”—confessed to 20 years of cocaine abuse, alcoholism, and sexually assaulting men.
Twenty years.
While he was on stage singing about the power of God, he was living in destruction behind the scenes.
His own words: “I was not the same person on stage Sunday night that I was at home on Monday.”
And everyone is shocked. Devastated. Questioning their faith.
But I’m not shocked.
Not because I don’t care—I do.
Not because it doesn’t bother me—it does.
But because I stopped putting people on pedestals a long time ago.
Here’s what I’ve learned:
1. Gifting is not godliness.
Someone can be anointed to sing and broken in their soul at the same time.
Talent will take you places that character can’t keep you.
The gift will function even when the person is falling apart. That’s why it’s called a GIFT—it’s not something they earned. It’s something God gave.
But the gift operating doesn’t mean the life is in order.
“Many will say to Me in that day, ‘Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in Your name… and done many wonders in Your name?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you.’” — Matthew 7:22-23
You can minister to thousands and be a stranger to God.
2. Nobody starts off planning to fall.
I don’t believe Michael Tait woke up one day and said, “I’m going to be a Christian who does cocaine. I’m going to be a worship leader who assaults people.”
It doesn’t start like that.
It starts with depression and no one to talk to.
It starts with peer pressure and wanting to fit in.
It starts with one compromise that leads to another.
It starts with success that outpaces accountability.
And before you know it, you’re living two lives—and you don’t know how to stop.
“Therefore let him who thinks he stands take heed lest he fall.”
— 1 Corinthians 10:12
The fall doesn’t happen all at once. It happens one hidden decision at a time.
3. People go back to what’s familiar.
When someone gets delivered but never gets discipled, they’re one bad season away from returning to what they know.
Deliverance without discipline doesn’t last.
Freedom without structure doesn’t hold.
You can have a genuine encounter with God and still end up back in bondage if nobody teaches you how to walk it out.
“When an unclean spirit goes out of a man, he goes through dry places, seeking rest, and finds none. Then he says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when he comes, he finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first.” — Matthew 12:43-45
An empty house is a vulnerable house.
4. The industry protects the profitable.
They called Michael Tait’s behavior “Nashville’s worst-kept secret.”
Fifty people knew. The investigation took two and a half years. This wasn’t hidden—it was ignored.
Because he was too big. Too connected. Too profitable.
And the people who could have held him accountable chose to look the other way.
That’s not just a Michael Tait problem. That’s an industry problem. That’s a church problem.
We protect platforms and neglect people.
We celebrate the gift and ignore the cracks.
And then we act shocked when it all falls apart.
5. Your faith was never supposed to be built on a person.
If Michael Tait’s fall shakes your faith, your faith was built on the wrong foundation.
He didn’t die for you. Jesus did.
He didn’t save you. Jesus did.
He was just a man with a microphone and a gift.
The song “God’s Not Dead” is still true—even if the man who sang it was spiritually dying while he performed it.
The message outlives the messenger.
“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.”
— Hebrews 13:8
Men will fail you. God won’t.
So what do we do now?
We stop being shocked.
Not because we stop caring—but because we stop being naive.
We hold leaders accountable BEFORE they fall, not just after.
We build systems of accountability instead of pedestals of celebrity.
We remember that everyone on a stage is still human—still fighting battles, still capable of falling, still in need of grace AND truth.
We protect our own hearts by keeping our faith anchored in Christ and not in personalities.
And when someone does fall, we grieve—but we don’t lose our footing.
Because our footing was never supposed to be on them in the first place.
I learned that at a gas station in Birmingham, AL when I was 17.
The man who carried on like heaven had touched him was buying beer 30 minutes later.
And my faith didn’t shake.
Because my faith wasn’t in him.
It was in the God he was singing about.
And that God is still on the throne—no matter who falls off the stage.
Credit: Aubrey L. White
Tait admitted to these instances on June 10, 20235
