A Disorienting Cacophony of Emotions

The tainted legacy of the Kansas City Prophets, combined with the implosion of the International House of Prayer, Kansas City (hereafter IHOPKC) and the sexual scandal in Mike Bickle’s life, have together made for an explosive array of emotions in my own life. As I continue to process the reality of what happened, I struggle to identify which of many emotions is the most prominent and impactful.

My initial response upon hearing of Bickle’s past life was one of utter disbelief. Experts often refer to this as cognitive dissonance. This has been defined in various ways, but in my case it is the deeply disturbing phenomenon of holding to two mutually exclusive beliefs, two contrary perspectives, neither of which is easily dismissed. On the one hand, few people have had so great a positive influence on me as Mike Bickle. On the other hand, there is no denying the fact that he is also a sexual predator who abused multiple women, at least one of whom was 14 years old at the time. To this day I find it virtually impossible to reconcile these two versions of Bickle. I suspect I never will.

Quickly on the heels of my cognitive dissonance came waves of overwhelming grief and sadness. Anyone reading this who has watched a former close friend and ministry companion be revealed as a fraud knows of which I speak. My heart was (and is) broken. As horrific as Bickle’s sins have been (and perhaps still are), I struggle not to think of him with affection. I suspect that as time passes this will fade, and rightly so.

My grief soon turned to intense anger. As I contemplated the impact of his sin on the tens of thousands of young people whom he influenced over the years, my anger slowly became righteous rage. It is almost impossible to bear thinking of how many individuals have walked away from their faith because of Bickle’s betrayal. And to think that, at least at the time of the writing and publication of this book, he has said nothing to them in terms of apology or repentance or sadness for having contributed to their spiritual deconstruction only casts gasoline on the burning anger in my soul.

And then there is profound embarrassment. As Bickle’s most ardent defender over the past 35 years, my own lack of discernment weighs heavily on my heart. I have no explanation for why I (and so many others) failed to see beyond the surface spirituality of his life. Perhaps all of us were simply so captivated by his charisma and the aura of power that surrounded him that we were blind to what anyone else might more readily have seen. My failure to discern Bickle’s true character will undoubtedly haunt me for the remainder of my life.

I suppose I should add one more painful emotion with which I grapple each day. It is fear. My fear is that the man I once thought I knew and whose friendship and influence I so greatly enjoyed may not be a born-again Christian after all. Many are quick to pull the trigger in denouncing Bickle as a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a false prophet who never knew anything of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. That is a very real possibility. But I am ever so reluctant to reach that conclusion until Bickle openly denies the faith. Some may insist that his sinful lifestyle and refusal to repent betray any claim he might make to genuine saving faith. And they may well be right. But I choose to leave that in the hands of the Lord as I continue to pray for Bickle’s complete, sincere, heartfelt repentance.