T. Michael W. Halcomb on Disillusionment, Community, and Accountability in the Modern Church

T. Michael W. Halcomb is an American professor, author, podcaster, and stand-up comedian. He is the author of around 30 books, an educator with five degrees (including a PhD), and a frequent academic presenter with nearly 100 conference presentations. He co-founded GlossaHouse in 2012, a publishing house focused on language-learning resources, especially biblical languages. He gave a TEDx talk, "Silent no more: Resurrecting dead languages," in Evansville, IN in October of 2015. His comedy work has been featured in outlets such as Yahoo! Entertainment, TheWrap, and The Mirror US.

In conversation with Scott Douglas Jacobsen, T. Michael W. Halcomb reflects on decades of ministry across denominations and explores what sustains authentic Christian community. Halcomb recounts early disillusionment in Evangelical spaces, yet explains why he remains committed to the capital-C Church. He discusses reintegrating a former sex offender through transparent, accountable structures; serving unhoused communities across several states; and adopting children from Ethiopia as an extension of lived theology. For Halcomb, community succeeds when united by the Spirit of Christ rather than social or political agendas. Redemption requires accountability, mercy involves process, and genuine belonging demands both embrace and transformation.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen: So, you have had an early experience of disillusionment—of not belonging. How has that shaped your conceptualization of what community is in the Church? Or, theologically, what is meant by "the communal" within a theological context?

T. Michael W. Halcomb: I have had a lot of disillusionment with the Church, and I have been involved in pretty much every stripe of Evangelicalism at some level. My earliest frustration with the Church started at a Southern Baptist church when I was a teenager, and I was being pressured to go to a specific Southern Baptist college. When I did not, there was a change in disposition toward me for not doing what the pastors and the leadership of the Church wanted. So, when I went off to a different Bible college—it was not a Southern Baptist Bible college—it changed the disposition toward me a bit, and I started to feel some disillusionment there. That is an early memory I have of that.

Over twenty-five years within the Church, I have experienced disillusionment after disillusionment after disillusionment. It has been there all the time. Most recently, I had a significant fallout with the Church of the Nazarene, where I had been pastoring for 5.5 years in Hawaii. That centred around theology: a theology of sexuality, a theology of church discipline, and similar things. That came to a real head and left me, and many others, very disillusioned in the end. But I have stuck with the Church—not the Church of the Nazarene, but the capital-C Church, the global Church, regardless.

I think the idea of "commune," initially, is to be united with God and in union with God. That is the point of it all. The body should be in union with God, together—communing, being in union with one another. The interesting thing is that "commune," "to be united with," gets broken down to just "being united." Then the issue becomes: you can unite around many things that are not good, healthy, beneficial, or fruitful. You can join around any number of agendas or causes, and that does not necessarily result in unity of the Spirit of Christ.

Jacobsen: One strength of the Christian churches is that they have been around long enough that there are a lot of theologies on offer in terms of how people do community, more particularly. So, if it does not work for someone, they can go to another church.

And the Southern Baptist Convention has had demographic issues for a bit now. Was that around the time when you were having some of your disillusionment? This is a quick side note.

Halcomb: It was probably lurking, but I was a high-schooler at the time, heading into college, so those sorts of things were not on my radar. As I got into Bible college and then moved through seminary and those sorts of things, I became more aware of those issues.

At the same time, there were certainly scandals, even in the small Baptist church I was part of. I am going on the record, I guess, saying this: my youth pastor, who was married and had a couple of kids, had an affair with our senior pastor's daughter, who was a senior in high school. This is crazy, dude—our youth pastor, who was also the high school band director, was having an affair with a girl in the youth group who was the pastor's daughter. She rose through the ranks in the high school band, obviously. He divorced his wife and married this girl. To this day, they are still together and doing ministry in the same town—“ministry,” if that is what you want to call it. Those things were definitely around. I do not know whether anything like that was ever officially reported.

Jacobsen: It probably happens much more often than is reported. It is a big country; you have over 300 million people; a lot of things are going to happen. It is a very free country, so you are going to get a wide range of the good and bad of people, I think. A big part of this is walking with the downtrodden, the neglected, the uprooted, the outcasts, and so on. How have you incorporated that into your life journey in terms of living out your theology? You have been across denominations quite a bit.

Halcomb: I think that is really important—to be reaching out. Some of the initiatives that, as a senior pastor and a lead pastor, I have been able to be a part of or spearhead: in Hawaii, we were doing visits to the youth detention centre once a month, at the end of the month, leading a worship service for them, doing Bible study with them, and mentoring them. We also helped open up a men's transitional house, as men were transitioning out of prison back into society. One of the things I was able to do—and this was really challenging and hard—we had a congregant who had been a sexual offender and had been locked up. Within my first three months—actually, my first two months, I think—of taking that pastoral role, he was released. Reintegrating this individual back into the community was challenging. Still, we had a good process to make it work, and I feel like it was pretty successful.

So we were trying, with the help of some friends, to work with incarcerated people: work with those before they went into incarceration—youth in detention centres before they went into jail or prison—and then those who were coming out of prison, on the other side of it. We had some church folks who were going into the jails to lead worship services and other activities. We had lots of activity there. We were working with homeless and feeding ministries and things like that as well—lots of reaching into and pouring into the community.

There is a lot of story there about how things ended during my time in the Church of the Nazarene, but I do not know if I really want to go into that. But, yes, we were doing a lot to reach back into our community. My wife was involved in going into the prisons, and now and then, they would have children visit their parents for special days in jail; my wife was one of the helpers with that.

My wife and I have also adopted several children from Ethiopia, so looking after orphans has been a prominent part of our ministry for the past 20 to 25 years. Those are some of the ways we were reaching back into our local community, both outside the walls of the Church and, in some instances, within them.

Jacobsen: What were the big lessons—three counts? One on redemption with former sex offenders. Two, the stories around individuals who are either, by bad decisions or bad luck, unhoused. And then a third case, the lessons from adopting children from Ethiopia, in terms of giving a better life to kids in need.

Halcomb: In thinking about reintegrating a sex offender back into the fabric of the Church, it is one thing if you have an offender who had not previously been part of the congregation—nobody knows them, they are coming into the Church, and in that case, only the leadership or select people would know about the person's past. That would present its own challenges, but it might be a little easier. I am not sure. There is no playbook for how to do this.

It is very different when the person was part of the community before imprisonment. The person was in a prominent position, had preached, had led worship, and then this travesty happened. They went to prison, and then you reintegrate them back into the same community—and everybody knows. There is no playbook for how to do this. There is no obvious, easy, or comfortable path. Not at all. It was demanding and challenging at times.

It started with talking to parole officers, getting on the same page with them, and then having the offender come into a board meeting before ever returning to a Sunday service—meeting with the board. I drafted a plan, with the board's approval, to present to this individual and say: "This is our plan to reintegrate you into the life of the Church." You have to meet A, B, C, and D before you can do E, F, and G. We had milestones along the way. You need to attend a certain number of sessions with your marriage therapist. You need a certain number of individual therapy sessions. You need to come back to board meetings from time to time. We laid out a plan, and as long as those milestones were hit, we could make progress and open certain doors for this person to regain privileges—maybe playing keyboard, maybe coming back up front, whatever it was.

There were milestones along the way, and if those were achieved, doors were reopened. That is precisely what happened. The individual did a great job, and we all followed the plan together. There was accountability. As wild as it sounds, in twenty-plus years of ministry, one of the feathers I would put in my ministry cap is the story of successfully reintegrating this individual back into the life of the Church. In a small church—only fifty to seventy people—everyone knows everyone.

There were relational and marital strains for this individual, and we had to work through all of them. Transparency was the best option at all times. I feel like that is what is missing in a lot of churches—utter transparency about everything. We were transparent about those steps; we were transparent about every penny spent, and anybody could ask for an expense report at any time in our Church. It would be gladly given to them. Operating with transparency at all times was the best option. I think that is a great redemption story.

Sex offenders often face enormous barriers in coming back into the Church. As we said, there is no plan to do this, so some churches do not know how to start. If certain families in a church find out that you are reintegrating a sex offender into the life of the Church, and they have kids, they are gone. They will not take the risk. It is too risky, and it is understandable.

Jacobsen: This is a broader conversation about the enormous prison population in the United States and the lack of a universal, comprehensive system for reintegration into American society for those who demonstrate the capacity to do so and make restitution. Some people cannot be helped, and you obviously need to protect others. Still, I do not know about a comprehensive review program.

Halcomb: Two of the people doing the best job at this that I have ever seen are Rick and Deverlyn Kang, and they live in Hawaii. They have systems for people before they get incarcerated—troubled youth—then in the youth detention systems, then in the prisons, and then on the other side of the jails. They converted half of their home into a women's safe house, and they helped create the men's transition house we worked with. Their ministry is remarkable. Both of them had been in prison themselves. They are doing a fantastic job on all fronts, but even still, there is no comprehensive playbook for this.

Jacobsen: And what about the individuals who are homeless or unhoused?

Halcomb: We were working with a few organizations in Hawaii, and wherever I have been—in Michigan, Kentucky, Hawaii, even North Carolina—whatever Church we have been part of, there has always been some outreach to that population. Some churches were more invested than others, but I have never seen or known a church that has not been involved in some way.

When we were part of a Lutheran congregation in Hawaii, our last six months there—it was called the Waikiki Beach Gathering—the Church had no walls, no building. You literally meet right on the beach in Waikiki, and you are sitting right next to homeless people worshipping, having communion, listening to the sermon, whatever it is. I have never been part of a church community that has not done effective outreach to those without homes in whatever community they are in.

The Church has, in my opinion, done a great job. But larger systems at play keep the cycle going and keep people trapped. In Hawaii, people are priced out of houses—the housing situation is insane—and people can become homeless overnight, literally. But from what I have seen, the Church has done a great job of serving those without homes wherever I have been.

In terms of adopting several children from Ethiopia, that has come with its own set of blessings and its own set of challenges. Looking after orphans is not easy by any means. There are many things each child brings to the table, and then there are societal pressures. When we were adopting from Ethiopia the first time, we lived in Kentucky, and my family in Kentucky and Ohio was actually upset. "Why are you not adopting an American kid?" Remarks like that.

I have a pastor friend who said something like: if every pastor's family in the United States adopted at least one child, we could end the global orphan crisis overnight. I do not know if that statistic holds; I have no reason not to believe it, but it is something like that. It is wild to think about. We have adopted several, and these are what you call true orphans—no birth parent living and no record of them either. They would have been left to the streets or worse. My wife and I wanted to give them a better life, a shot at a good life, and we have worked very hard to do that. It has not been easy the whole time.

Jacobsen: What makes community about embrace and accountability? It is both the Snuggie you wear and the Snuggie you have to wash.

Halcomb: If you are following scripture, both are there. If people are willing to repent for wrongdoing, they should be welcomed back into the community. But at the same time, if people have transgressed or done wrong and are unwilling to repent—especially after church discipline and several levels of church discipline, if you are doing the whole Matthew 18 approach—then they need to be asked to leave. I have had to ask people to go and not come back before. That is part of the role. I was not willing to be a pastor then refuse to enforce church discipline when it needed to be enforced. A lot of churches do not do that today, but both are there in scripture. That is how early churches were run; that is how the Church has functioned throughout church history—or, ideally, how it should have functioned. You have to do both.

You welcome everyone as they are, as it is often said, but nobody is welcome to stay the same. Ideally, you are all growing and being sanctified together in community through the Spirit of Christ.

Jacobsen: What is your favourite biblical joke?

Halcomb: Favourite biblical joke? Are you asking because I do stand-up comedy, or are you just curious?

Jacobsen: Yeah. What was that guy—Jeff Allen? I think his best joke is that his conversion to religion came through Ecclesiastes.

Halcomb: I do not know that joke.

Jacobsen: It is just observational. He says, "Yeah, I came to the religion and God through Ecclesiastes." And the other person responds, "He reached out to you through Ecclesiastes? Through Ecclesiastes, to you?" 'Meaningless, meaningless, meaninglesss—it is all meaningless.'

Halcomb: So here is a joke. I have several religious jokes. I find it fascinating how different denominations focus on distinct theological matters. Southern Baptists focus on assurance of salvation; Presbyterians focus on the sovereignty of God; and United Methodists focus on… pronouns. I do not know if it is funny to you, but it is to me.

It is a good joke because it is true. As a former United Methodist, it is hilarious because it is true. I have a bunch of Catholic jokes, some Nazarene jokes, some Amish jokes. It is fun.

Jacobsen: What are the Amish jokes?

Halcomb: I have a whole bit about this YouTube video where Amish men are lifting a barn and moving it, like, five hundred yards—literally lifting a barn with their arms and hands and carrying it five hundred yards. These Amish guys are ripped, like pro athletes, like NBA players. I think one guy's name was… LeBarn James.

I have all kinds of Christian church jokes. The theological distinctive stuff is fun to toy around with. Have you ever noticed how Catholic priests have saints to pray to for just about everything... Except accountability?

Jacobsen: I think one big thing that happened in the North American Church is that it is primarily women and girls by a significant margin. In terms of community, how do you build community to get a more balanced gender ratio? That is a conversation many churches are having.

Halcomb: You are addressing what many call the feminization of the Church?

Jacobsen: Not even giving it a title—just observation. There are more women and girls in the Church.

Halcomb: A lot of people look at the current praise-and-worship situation—the music. Because it is so emotion-driven and uses a lot of intimate language in the lyrics, this may be one of the reasons men do not sing in Church, or a deterrent to coming to Church altogether. They do not want to sing.

Jacobsen: All the fuchsia coloured ensembles of the aesthetics, and so on.

Halcomb: This is something many men will not like. Many churches are doing things to try to restore masculinity. "Fire nights" are one example—guys meet around a fire pit every other Friday night or something like that. Fire nights are one of the trends picking up across the United States.

There are more female pastors, which may be another deterrent for some men. You also have men's conferences and similar events.

Jacobsen: So, this is about attenuation practices—how do you sustain engagement?

Halcomb: Yes, in part. You have to ask: how do we reach men? How does this community—not the message, the message is already relatable—but how does this community become appealing in a way that men would think, "I want to be part of that; this would be good for me; good for my family; good for my marriage"?

Every Church does its own thing—camping trips, fire pits, fishing trips, conferences. How do you make men more interested in this? It is a real challenge. Many communities are facing the same problem.

The trend exists outside the Church, too. Across the United States, the feminization of the university is a recognized trend. Female professors and students outnumber men by a significant margin—something like sixty–forty or sixty-five–thirty-five, depending on the data. The legal system shows a similar pattern. So it is no different in the Church; we are seeing the same things happen.

Jacobsen: The vocation of pastor may not change, but the ratio of roles may. In earlier eras, the pastor was more responsible; now, many functions are outsourced to other systems. What are the roles of the pastor today?

Halcomb: It depends on the size of the Church. In a megachurch, the pastor can be hired as a teaching pastor—your job is to teach or preach. You are not leading Bible studies, making hospital visits, or dealing with budgets. That is your job. There is also the executive pastor, whose role is to handle finances, oversee budgets, work with trustees, and more. In larger churches, individuals can wear their own hats and stay in their own lanes.

In smaller churches, you do not have that luxury. You are looked at like a CEO. You are expected to teach and preach, plan the agenda for the year, lead Bible studies, make hospital visits, do funerals, baptisms, and weddings. There were times when the worship leader was sick and called out the morning of—I had to lead music. You oversee trustees, the board, and finances, and attend denominational conferences and meetings.

In a small congregation, you are essentially playing the role of twenty different people. You are a mediator—mediating between family members, mediating between church members—and all the while you are trying to balance your own family life. There are many roles the modern small-church pastor plays, from preacher to teacher to funeral speaker to event planner to finance manager to administrator, and so on.

It is a lot. I cannot think of another job where you are expected to do it all. I do not know another job where you are supposed to do everything. It is no wonder the mental health of pastors is terrible right now. A lot of the people I went to Bible college with got burned out and left ministry a few years in. Very few remain. I can probably count on one hand the number of people I went to Bible college with—from 1999 to 2003—who are still in ministry.

Jacobsen: How many were in the cohort?

Halcomb: A few hundred. Probably a couple of hundred. Not many are left doing it.

Jacobsen: Any final thoughts based on the conversation today around community?

Halcomb: I hope this went in a direction you think is helpful. Community is vital. One of the things I tell my students, as we work through New Testament texts is what I alluded to earlier: church communities can be united around many wrong things. Even noble things can decenter Christ, pushing him from the centre and becoming the focal point. When that happens, it becomes problematic.

It is imperative that the body of Christ—the bride of Christ, the Church—be a community centred around the main thing, which is Jesus Christ, and that they be centred around Jesus Christ in a unity of the Holy Spirit. Political agendas can bring people together; social agendas can, too. Those things can be good and noble, but when they are the thing that unites you rather than the Spirit of Christ, it becomes problematic. Being united by the Spirit around Christ is the main thing.

A healthy church community—if you are looking for a church, a question you can ask yourself when you go in is: are these people united around Christ? Is he the focus? And is it the Spirit of Christ that has united them together? If not, that is a red flag. I think that is really important.

Jacobsen: Well, Michael, thank you very much for your time today. I appreciate your expertise.

Halcomb: Sounds great, Scott. It was good meeting you.

Jacobsen: Good meeting you, too.

Halcomb: All right, brother. Have fun. Take care. Happy New Year.

Jacobsen: Happy New Year. Cheers.

Scott Douglas Jacobsen is the publisher of In-Sight Publishing (ISBN: 978-1-0692343) and Editor-in-Chief of In-Sight: Interviews (ISSN: 2369-6885). He writes for The Good Men Project, International Policy Digest (ISSN: 2332–9416), The Humanist (Print: ISSN 0018-7399; Online: ISSN 2163-3576), Basic Income Earth Network (UK Registered Charity 1177066), A Further Inquiry, and other media. He is a member in good standing of numerous media organizations.