Reflections on ‘The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill’ Podcast: A Short Review

The Rise and Fall of Mars Hillthis is the story we need right now. 

This podcast is a long, hard look in the mirror for much of the church in America today. It’s an incredibly well produced, thorough exploration of not just the Mars Hill story with Mark Driscoll, but also the narratives that have pervaded and shaped much of American church culture over the last 60 years, especially the ones that prop-up and gravitate toward powerful leaders. 

As the story unfolds, Mike Cosper, the podcast’s host, makes room for a chorus of voices to tell a mix of pained, hopeful, traumatic, fruitful, and conflicted stories, contrasting the good and the bad of ministry and how God works in the midst of both. It illustrates how confusing it can be to sort through and make sense of our own experiences in the church when we experience so much beauty and so much pain in the same contexts and with the same people. And it highlights how ministry can treat individuals as replaceable and expendable in pursuit of grandiose goals that ultimately become detached from the people who were used to get there. 

As a commentary on both the Mars Hill story and that of the broader church, this storytelling sets an important precedent to step back and evaluate ourselves, not merely judge others at arm’s-length, as if theirs sins and flaws are beyond our own capability. The story invites us to examine the sometimes collective propensity we have to value charisma over character; the tendency to justify, dismiss, and protect the bad in light of the “fruit”; the inclination to, at times, side with the abuser over the abused; and to errantly and uncritically assume that the good God does in our midst is the seal of His approval of all we’re doing both in character and conduct. 


From the beginning of the story, it’s clear there are many, many pieces to the Mars Hill puzzle: from the pragmatic, theological, and communal; to being a forerunner in utilizing the internet and technology to broadcast the church’s messages, content, and brand; to differing philosophies of ministry, church planting strategies, power dynamics, and social structures that rapidly evolved since the church’s inception in the 1990s. All of these are explored in fascinating depth while often relying on both insiders and expert outside observers to shed light on how things were shaped in the church and how, in turn, this church shaped so much of the cultural landscape around it. 

Throughout the show, Cosper thoughtfully and eloquently navigates issues of abuse, manipulation, sexism and misogyny, coercion, and rampant ego and narcissism in ministry as he interviews a great number of people who formerly led in Mars Hill and worked alongside Driscoll. The human toll of it all is quite clear as these people share their stories with great vulnerability. As the interviews unfold, it’s also clear that holding sensitivity to and protecting the hearts of the people involved is of great priority. This is all done while seeking to be true to the often complex narratives that occurred in the church’s story, illustrating that good things did indeed happen in Mars Hill, that God works even in the most broken places, that many people encountered Jesus as their savior in this context, and that redemption isn’t beyond any of us, should we choose to repent and be held accountable. 

And yet, over and over again, the story forces us to face the fruit of our labor in prioritizing charisma over character; that is, ignoring the red flags of an individual’s behavior because of that person’s marketability and intellectual and rhetorical savviness.


As I’ve listened to the podcast, I find myself aching for those who were deeply wounded in the name of God and ministry, wondering how things could start so powerfully and end so catastrophically. But I also find myself thankful—thankful that many of my own questions over the last 12 years or so are being asked through this larger platform. The kinds of questions about the church that are so necessary in this cultural moment, ones that we need to embrace with holy fervor, not reticence:

What are our motives for church marketing, branding, and production? Is it about people meeting Jesus, or is it about entertainment, the ticket sales we call attendance, becoming popular, and making our own names known? 

What is the human toll of a narcissistic leader’s agenda? Is it ever worth it—not the fruit, but the damage, as Cosper says? 

What is the consequence of unchecked greed and selfish ambition in the name of God? How does that taint or misrepresent the image of God and His church? 

Why do we so idolize celebrity culture and why do we struggle to hold these celebrity leaders accountable? 

What happens when growth becomes the focal point of ministry? Do we use worldly metrics to define “growth,” or do we use biblical, kingdom standards? 

How will platform, influence, and fame affect us if our hearts and egos can’t handle it?

When, if ever, does the end justify the means when we allow abuse, coercion, manipulation, and dishonesty to go unchecked because of all the “fruit” we see happening alongside it?

And, ultimately, what are we really building: our own empires, or the kingdom of God? 


The nature of this story includes a massive and tragic fall from grace. So, for some, any sort of storytelling like this is immediately labeled as negative, divisive, maligning, gossiping, or “Bride-bashing.” The concern is for the Bride of Christ, the church (or even Jesus Himself) to not be slandered or misrepresented to the watching world by the sharing of the story, or for fellow Christians to not become divided or disillusioned by it. I think this is a godly and noble concern for us to hold—one that can certainly be in keeping with Scripture, but one that can also be rather easily misplaced, sometimes in the name of a quasi kind of unity. 

For those who would make such a criticism about the content of the podcast (or even this review), please consider this: the intention here isn’t character assassination—it’s accountability and illumination. For the celebrity leaders who command such attention from large audiences, by sheer virtue of their celebrity alone, people run to their defense when scandal hits or even something more minor goes awry. In those cases, the nature of celebrity and power and godliness can all become clouded and the ability for those very leaders to be held accountable loses the focus it needs. And, perhaps most importantly, those who have been wounded feel trapped in sharing the truth as if their stories are the things at fault, not the actions of those who’ve hurt them. This doesn’t communicate a healthy image to a broken world, nor does it care for the hurting among the flock in the ways that Jesus desires. 

As some folks from Christianity Today beautifully discuss in the post-show of episode one (Kate Shellnutt and Daniel Silliman along with Mike Cosper), this kind of storytelling illustrates how we often overestimate the potential damage of sharing the truth of these harrowing stories and allowing the victims to be heard, and we tend to underestimate the damage that will be done when they are told to be silent. In Silliman’s specific words, he says, “I think we also overestimate the negative impact of talking about stuff and underestimate the impact of stuff happening.” 

In response to the impulse to protect powerful, yet abusive leaders at the expense of the abused, I want us to ask, where does that impulse come from? Or why are we, at times, seemingly more concerned with the preservation of power than right order, holiness, and the protection of the vulnerable? Stop and think about that for a moment. Maybe asking these questions in stark terms without sugarcoating will help us see them for what they really are: things that we see present in the Scriptures, but sinful things which God corrects, not paradigms He upholds.

Asking hard questions of the church, holding her and her leaders accountable, and not mincing words regarding abuse, manipulation, coercion, and the abuse of power isn’t about hurting the Bride of Christ; it’s a necessary check and balance of power for her leaders, both in large and small contexts. Remember, the core issue isn’t those who’ve been hurt looking for a place to safely share; it’s the actions of others that put them there. Let’s place the weight of burden where it needs to be. Yes, sharing can be done poorly, out of order, or with ill intent. And gossiping can be shipwrecking for churches, so it’s important to hold all these things with wisdom, love, and discernment. But ill intent truly doesn’t seem to be the case of this retelling of the Mars Hill story.

Moreover, we should remind ourselves that this kind of accountability is a loving act toward teachers who will be judged more harshly (James 3:1). Its purpose is to highlight a recurring wound in the church so the damage can be mended, not prolonged or made worse. And it’s an endeavor to call the collective church into the fullness of identity, goodness, holiness, effectiveness, and right representation of God that He desires. And, with our contemporary means of technology, we may well view this kind of storytelling as the public rebuke of open unrepentance that Jesus calls for in Matthew 18:17.

By no means least of all, we must remember that making room for stories like this is deeply, deeply important for  acknowledging, listening to, prioritizing, and then helping heal the hurts of those who’ve been wounded by the church. And, in the case of Mars Hill especially, those who’ve become the cannon fodder of the machine that is the Evangelical Industrial Complex, as Skye Jethani termed it.  


If you’ve been hurt by the church in any capacity, you’ll likely find this listen cathartic, even healing— although it may be triggering at times. But I think the story will point you back to Jesus, especially in the midst of the pain, trauma, and abuse we can all experience in the name of church, ministry, and even God. 

If you’re one of those who’ve been wounded in the context of the church or in the name of God, I am deeply, deeply sorry. Your brothers and sisters weep with you. 


As my wife described it, The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill presents a 95 Theses moment for reform and change. It’s the hard look in the mirror that the Evangelical church needs. It’s the response to the hammered finger holding the nail in place that says, “no more.” And again, it’s the wake-up call to ask ourselves, what are we really building: our own empires, or the kingdom of God? 

If you’re unfamiliar with the story of Mars Hill up until this point—how a little Bible study in Seattle grew to one of the biggest and most influential churches in the nation in a span of less than two decades—I’m not going to spoil all of it for you. I’ll just encourage you to hear the story for yourself, allow the Holy Spirit to speak, and then press into the kind of change God calls for as He sets renewed conviction and renewed vision into our hearts.  

Thank you, CT Media and Mike Cosper, for this timely and necessary production. If you haven’t checked out The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, please do. It will be worth your time.