Don’t Leave Jesus Because of Judas—And Don’t Gloat When Judas Isn’t Catholic

If you’re Catholic, you’ve almost certainly experienced this moment. You’re in a conversation with a Protestant friend, coworker, or family member. Maybe it’s respectful at first—Bible verses, Church history, theology. Then, suddenly, it drops like a hammer: “What about the Catholic sex scandals?”

You feel it in your chest. A mix of shame, anger, sorrow, and defensiveness. You didn’t cause those crimes. You hate them. You mourn them. And yet, there they are, wielded like a weapon to discredit the Church you believe Christ Himself established. If you’re honest, that moment probably stayed with you. And that’s exactly why, when scandal hits Protestant churches and leaders, Catholics need to remember how it felt.

For decades, social media, talk radio, YouTube apologetics, and even Sunday sermons have been filled with Protestants attacking the Catholic Church over sexual abuse, corrupt priests, and sinful popes. Some of these critiques were fair. Some were grotesquely exaggerated. Some were rooted more in anti-Catholicism than concern for victims. But here’s the hard truth Catholics must admit: the abuse was real. The damage was real. The failures of leadership were real. Children were hurt. Souls were scandalized. Trust was shattered. And Catholics didn’t need Protestants to tell us that—it broke our damn hearts too.

Still, for many Catholics, those accusations formed a scar. A sense that no matter how faithful the Church’s teaching, sacraments, or saints might be, we would forever be defined by our worst sinners. That pain matters. And it should shape how we respond now.

In recent years, something troubling has happened. As scandals have erupted within prominent Protestant churches, many Catholics have begun firing back.

“See? Protestants have scandals too.”
“So much for sola scriptura—see what happens when you interpret the Bible however you want.”
“At least we have apostolic succession—get those guys outta there so they can never do that again.”

There’s a strong temptation to keep score. A desire to finally say, “Now you know how it feels!” But this is where Catholics must stop and ask ourselves an uncomfortable question: Are we defending the truth—or indulging resentment? Because it’s one thing to point out that scandal is not unique to Catholicism. It’s another thing entirely to use another Christian’s fall as ammunition.

The past few decades have seen a heartbreaking list of fallen Protestant leaders. Ravi Zacharias, once one of the most respected Christian apologists in the world, was exposed after his death as a serial abuser who used ministry funds to exploit women. I occasionally attended Willow Creek Community Church when I lived in the Chicago suburbs, where the founder, Bill Hybels, was accused by multiple women of sexual misconduct and abuse of power. I had moved to Colorado Springs before Ted Haggard, a nationally known pastor and evangelical leader, was exposed in a sex and drug scandal. Carl Lentz, celebrity pastor to athletes and entertainers, was removed for adultery and abusive leadership. In the last few days, you’ve probably heard about Philip Yancey, a prominent Protestant author who publicly confessed to an eight-year extramarital affair with a married woman. And the list goes on.

 One of the most unsettling realities of Scripture is this: God consistently uses deeply flawed people to lead His people. Peter denied Christ three times—the first pope collapsed under pressure when it mattered most. David, the man after God’s own heart, committed adultery and arranged a man’s death. Moses murdered a man and doubted God repeatedly. The apostles argued about status, abandoned Jesus, and misunderstood Him constantly. If God only used morally spotless leaders, the Bible would be a very short book. This doesn’t excuse sin. It doesn’t minimize abuse. And it certainly doesn’t remove the need for justice, repentance, and reform. But it does remind us of something crucial: The holiness of the Church does not come from her leaders—it comes from Christ.

You’ve probably heard it said: Don’t leave Jesus because of Judas. I’d like to add to this and direct it toward my fellow Catholics: Don’t mock the other apostles when Judas isn’t wearing your uniform. When scandal hits the other side, Catholics must remain humble. Don’t use Protestant scandals as rhetorical weapons, because when you do, several things happen. First, it hardens hearts. A Protestant who already believes Catholics are arrogant or unloving sees their worst suspicion confirmed. Second, it distracts from victims. Sexual sin becomes a theological talking point instead of a human tragedy. Third, it damages Catholic witness. We claim to possess the fullness of truth, but truth without charity is cruelty, and sinful. Finally, it forgets our own wounds. We of all people should know that scandal can destroy faith, fracture families, and drive people away from Christ entirely. If scandal disproved Christianity, there would be no Christianity left.

So what should Catholics do when scandal hits Protestant churches?

1.      Pray: Pray for victims. Pray for repentance. Pray for healing. Pray for Christ’s body, wherever it is wounded.

2.      Speak with restraint or just shut up: Not every failure needs commentary. Silence is often the most charitable response.

3.      Acknowledge shared humanity: Catholics and Protestants are not enemies. Many Protestants love Jesus sincerely, read Scripture faithfully, and strive for holiness. Their pain is not our opportunity.

4.      Witness to something better: The strongest argument for Catholicism has never been Protestant failure. It has always been Catholic holiness—saints, sacrificial love, reverence, beauty, history and its endurance.

Scandal is not a Catholic problem or a Protestant problem, it is a human problem brought forth by the devil. The question is not whether sinful men will fail—they will! The question is how Christians respond when they do. Catholics believe the Church is one, holy, catholic, and apostolic—not because her members are flawless, but because Christ is faithful. If we forget that, we risk becoming exactly what we once resented.