Hey there, friends. I want to wrestle with some heavy stuff today. I was mulling it over and even deleted a couple of drafts before I settled on this one. You’ve probably seen the news by now—Michael Tait, the voice behind so many anthems that stirred our souls, has stepped into a spotlight none of us wanted to see him under. The former Newsboys frontman, a guy whose music shaped our faith playlists, confessed to a “double life” of substance abuse and sexual misconduct. It’s raw, it’s real, and it’s heartbreaking. So, let’s talk about it—about sin, falling from grace, the consequences that linger, and the wild, stubborn hope of forgiveness and redemption. Because, friends, this is where the rubber meets the road in our faith. It’s often messy, I wont sugarcoat it, but I also think we have to talk about stuff like this, because sadly it’s so prevalent today.
The Fall Hurts
So, let’s not sugarcoat it: Michael Tait’s confession hit like a punch to the gut. This is the guy who belted out “God’s Not Dead” and made us feel like we could storm the gates of heaven with a guitar riff. But the allegations—sexual assault, grooming, drug and alcohol abuse—paint a picture of a man caught in a spiral of sin for two decades. Three men have come forward, sharing stories of pain and betrayal, moments where trust was shattered by someone they looked up to. One of them said, “To this day I jump whenever someone touches me unexpectedly… It’s heartbreaking to think someone you look up to could do something like that.” That’s not just a news headline; that’s a wound. It makes me both angry and sick to my stomach. Think of the lives of those who have witnessed this double life and the awful consequences of a seemingly phony testimony. Not only does it impact the victims – for it surely has ruined these men, but also the fans and people who have come to faith because of the ministry of Tait and the Newsboys. Where does that leave them? Disillusioned? Lost? Confused?
And here’s the thing about sin: it’s not just a private fumble, a little oopsie between you and God. Sin ripples. It breaks things. It leaves scars on others. Tait himself said, “I have hurt so many people in so many ways, and I will live with that shameful reality the rest of my life.” He’s not wrong. The Bible doesn’t pull punches on this either. Galatians 6:7 says, “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows.” When we sow seeds of sin, the harvest comes, and it’s often bitter. Tait’s facing that now—public shame, a tarnished legacy, and the very real pain of those he hurt.
The Weight of Consequences
Let’s pause here, because I think we sometimes want to rush past this part. We want to jump straight to the “forgiveness” part of the story, like it’s a feel-good movie montage. But sin has consequences, and they don’t vanish just because we say sorry. Tait stepped down from Newsboys in January, citing a “monumental and heartfelt decision” after prayer and fasting. But the truth came out later: he’d been living a double life, and the allegations that surfaced in The Roys Report forced him to confront it publicly. His bandmates, blindsided, said their “hearts were shattered” when they learned of his actions.
This is where 1 Timothy 5:20 hits hard: “But those elders who are sinning you are to reprove before everyone, so that the others may take warning.” Tait, as a visible Christian leader, carried a weighty responsibility. His sin wasn’t just personal; it impacted a community, a fanbase, a movement. The consequences? A fractured trust, a band moving on without him, and victims carrying trauma that may take years to heal. Sin costs, friends. It always does. As Tait put it, “Sin is a terrible thing, taking us where we don’t want to go; keeping us longer than we want to stay; and costing us more than we want to pay.”
The Scandal of Grace
But here’s where the story takes a turn—not a cheap turn, not a glossing-over, but a real, gritty, beautiful turn. Tait’s confession, posted on Instagram on June 10, 2025, didn’t dodge the truth. He called his actions what they were: sin. He wrote, “By His grace, I can say that for the past six months, I have lived a singular life—one of utter brokenness and total dependence on a loving and merciful God.” He’s been in treatment, seeking help, and leaning into a circle of counselors and friends who are walking with him. That’s not nothing. That’s the beginning of repentance. Some of you reading this might be skeptical and worry his apology is all scripted or insincere. I would challenge, we do not know the heart of man, but God does. Let’s allow God to do the judging, for the consequences are already playing out for Tait.
And this is where the scandal of grace comes in. Psalm 51, the cry of King David after his own catastrophic fall, echoes here: “Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.” David, a man after God’s own heart, was also a man who sinned big—adultery, murder, betrayal. Yet he threw himself at the mercy of God, and God didn’t turn him away. Tait referenced this psalm in his confession, and it’s no accident. Grace doesn’t erase consequences, but it offers a path through them. It’s the promise that even in our worst moments, God is still there, ready to meet us in our brokenness.
Redemption’s Long Road
So, what does redemption look like for someone like Michael Tait? It’s not a quick fix, friends. It’s not a press release or a single tearful apology. Redemption is a journey, and it’s messy. Tait’s been clean and sober since his time in a Utah treatment center, but he admits he’s got “lots of hard work ahead.” That’s real talk. Redemption means owning the wreckage, making amends where possible, and walking humbly with God and others. It means accepting that some relationships may never heal, some fans may never listen to his music again, and some wounds may linger.
But here’s the hope: God’s not done with Michael Tait. Or with you. Or with me. Romans 5:8 reminds us, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” That’s the heartbeat of the gospel—God’s love doesn’t wait for us to get it together. It meets us in the mess. Tait’s story isn’t over, and neither is ours. Redemption doesn’t mean the consequences disappear, but it means we don’t walk through them alone.
What Do We Do With This?
So, what do we do with a story like this? Do we cancel Michael Tait? Stop listening to Newsboys or DC Talk? That’s a question a lot of fans are wrestling with. I get it—it’s hard to separate the art from the artist when the betrayal feels so personal. But maybe the better question is: How do we hold space for both justice and grace? How do we pray for healing for the victims, accountability for the sinner, and restoration for all involved?
One X post I saw put it beautifully: “The Church? We’re called to forgive, not cancel. We’ve all sinned. Let’s be people of grace and truth.” That’s the tension we live in, friends. We don’t gloss over the pain or the consequences, but we also don’t shut the door on redemption. We pray for Tait, that he keeps walking this hard road of repentance. We pray for those he hurt, that they find healing from the “Merciful Healer and Hope-Giver,” as Tait called God. And we pray for ourselves, that we’d be honest about our own sin, quick to repent, and relentless in pursuing grace.
The Invitation
Here’s the invitation in all this: Don’t put people on pedestals. Not Michael Tait, not your pastor, not even yourself. We’re all capable of falling, and we all need grace. Tait’s story is a wake-up call, not just for him but for all of us. It’s a reminder that sin is real, consequences are real, but so is God’s mercy. As Jeremiah 3:22 says, “Return, you faithless people; I will cure you of backsliding.” God’s calling us to return, to lean into His mercy, and to walk the long, hard road of redemption together.
So, let’s keep praying, keep loving, and keep holding space for the messy beauty of grace. Because if God can redeem a guy like David, a guy like Tait, a guy like me—well, there’s hope for us all.
Grace and peace,
Pastor Scott
