“There, but for the grace of God, go I.” This centuries-old and profoundly insightful statement is purported to have originated with the English Reformer John Bradford as he watched prisoners being led to a scaffold. As Christians who have a sober awareness regarding our propensity toward self-deception and our vulnerability to sin, we, like Bradford, understand our desperation for the Lord’s continuing grace to protect us from becoming blind, wayward rebels. We wish to be humble. We wish to shed ourselves of pharisaical self-righteousness. Therefore, when we read a disturbing report about a religious public figure who has fallen away from faith, family, and integrity, we sigh and whisper, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” And much more could be said of that and the destruction that falls in the wake of such failure.

But this is not that.

Days ago, Ravi Zacharias International Ministries (RZIM) released a staggeringly disturbing report documenting Zacharias’s long history as an unchecked criminal sexual predator. For those of us who once respected and admired the late Zacharias and his ministry, the report was horrifying. Honestly, I could not finish it. My stomach twisted as I attempted to digest graphic details. Waves of emotion rushed over me–more than I could process. I closed the link and composed the following comment: “I can’t even describe the emotions—anger, horror, crushing heartache for his victims, earnest desire for them to know the Jesus who died for them—our Savior whose name has been maligned in their eyes, perhaps forever, by this criminal fraud. I just can’t even finish reading. Christ, have mercy on us for giving such a man a platform.“

Within minutes, a gentleman who undoubtedly holds to Bradford’s (and my) understanding of our common vulnerability to sin replied that Jesus gave twelve “such men” a platform. Twelve such men. Respectfully, but vehemently, I disagree.

Religious predators are nothing new, nor are vulnerable women. Scripture is filled with warnings and exhortations from God to his people regarding how they were, and are, to treat widows (women who lacked protection and provision meant to come from a husband), orphans, the poor, and the sojourner–all of whom comprised the most vulnerable populations to societal oppression. God’s people were to treat the vulnerable with the kindness they had received from God himself, and their leaders were to ensure that the oppressed received protection and justice (e.g., Deut 10:17-18; Isa 1:17-23; Jer 7:5-7; 22:3; Zech 7:9-10). Our Lord did not mince words–in just one admonition regarding the mistreatment of widows and orphans, he spoke through Moses to potential oppressors: “My anger will be aroused and I will kill you with the sword; your wives will become widows and your children fatherless” (Exod 22:24). Similarly, God, through the prophet Ezekiel, issued a harsh rebuke against the leaders of Israel who preyed upon those they were meant to care for and protect: “Ah, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding yourselves! Should not shepherds feed the sheep? You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep. The weak you have not strengthened, the sick you have not healed, the injured you have not bound up, the strayed you have not brought back, the lost you have not sought, and with force and harshness you have ruled them” (Ezek 34:2b-4). He goes on to promise a shepherd he will send to rescue his scattered sheep–Jesus the Good Shepherd (34:23-31).

Ravi Zacharias did not merely–were such a term ever appropriate to describe the moral failure of those who lead God’s people–become drawn into a situation of adultery. No, Zacharias’s actions were far more heinous. Ravi Zacharias used the name, reputation, and influence of Jesus Christ to draw women’s trust, and then he sexually abused, raped, and trafficked them. He who held a platform of Christian influence and the knowledge to tell women how to be delivered from shame instead covered them with it. There is no question that this happened. Zacharias’s cell phone graphically supports the horrific testimonies provided by women left broken in his wake. Folks, if such actions as these–which could hardly demonstrate a starker contrast to the gospel–do not make us angry as followers of Christ, we need to check our hearts. Righteous anger is an appropriate response to the things that offend and anger God.

John Bloom of Desiring God has given us five ways in which we can discern appropriate, righteous anger from sinful, self-righteous anger:

1. Righteous anger is “roused by evil that profanes God’s name and perverts his goodness. . . . [In it] we care about God’s reputation more than our own.”
2. Righteous anger does not overlook one’s own sin. He who is righteously angry turns to self-assessment before addressing sin in others.
3. Righteous anger “is grieved, not merely infuriated, by evil.” When the innocent and vulnerable are harmed, we are angry, yes, but we are also deeply grieved.
4. Righteous anger is governed by God’s love and may be slowly expressed.
5. Righteous anger acts swiftly when necessary.

Jesus himself exhibited righteous anger at the temple when he overturned the tables of the money changers whom he called “robbers” as they cheated and profited off of those who came to worship (Matt 21:12-13). Why? Because, like Zacharias, they were predators. Jesus rebuked such predators–he did not enable or overlook them. Jesus repeatedly exhibited compassion toward women and treated them with dignity and gentleness. He did not choose and send out disciples who would rape and abuse those he came to save. Did he surround himself with sinners? Yes. Did he recruit and empower predators? No, he did not.

Fellow believers, the disclosures following the Zacharias investigation should bring us to our knees. We did more than blindly trust Zacharias, we overlooked and enabled him. We did not heed the warning signs that his character and motives for ministry were amiss. In our neglect, we failed every single one of the women he violated. Additionally, having viewed him as a champion of the Christian worldview, we allowed Zacharias to make a mockery of Christ’s name, not only among the women he oppressed, but on college campuses and other spheres influenced by his apologetics. For whatever good he may have done, Zacharias did exponentially more harm. We can be righteously angry about that even as we acknowledge God’s sovereign and good grace in keeping us from the same sin.

I, for one, am in a season of weeping. And I am angry.