A recent investigative report has sent ripples through charismatic Christian circles, raising serious questions about accountability and victim protection within influential ministries. Bible teacher and popular podcaster Mike Winger released an extensive video presentation that examines troubling allegations against a prominent prophetic figure closely associated with one of America's most well-known megachurches.
The nearly six-hour documentary, titled "The Skeletons in Bethel's Closet are Now Going to Speak," presents detailed evidence against Shawn Bolz, a Southern California-based prophetic minister who gained significant recognition through his connection to Bethel Church in Redding, California. Winger's investigation methodically builds a case that Bolz's seemingly supernatural insights may have been derived from systematic data mining of social media profiles and other publicly available information rather than genuine divine revelation.
More gravely, the exposé documents multiple instances of alleged sexual misconduct by Bolz, suggesting a pattern of behavior that predates his public prominence. According to Winger's research, leadership at Bethel Church became aware of these serious concerns as early as 2020. While private measures were reportedly taken to create distance between the institution and Bolz, public support continued for years.
The disconnect between private awareness and public action reached a critical point when Bethel finally issued a public statement distancing itself from Bolz in February 2025—five years after initial concerns were raised and only after Winger's investigation brought renewed scrutiny.
The timing proved particularly revealing. Just one day after Winger released his findings, Bethel pastor Kris Vallotton addressed the congregation in an unscripted response that has since drawn sharp criticism from victim advocates and church watchdogs. Assuming Vallotton had at most 30 hours to process the extensive documentation, his remarks appeared to be an attempt at real-time crisis management rather than a carefully considered statement.
However, what emerged was a troubling window into the institutional mindset of a movement facing documented evidence of abuse, false prophecy, and systemic failure to protect vulnerable individuals. Rather than expressing concern for potential victims or acknowledging institutional oversights, Vallotton's comments framed the situation as a burden of leadership and a plea for extended grace.
This response highlights a fundamental tension within organizations that prioritize institutional preservation over individual protection. When confronted with evidence of harm, the immediate questions should be: "What did we miss?" and "Who has been hurt?" Instead, the response seemed to ask: "Why is leadership so difficult?" and "Why can't we be shown more grace?"
At the heart of this controversy lies a critical question that every religious institution must confront: Does the organization truly love and protect its members, or does it primarily serve to protect its own movement, reputation, and leadership structure?
Vallotton's sermon appeared to answer this question decisively. The emphasis was placed on protecting the global prophetic movement from damage, preserving the reputations of leaders, and maintaining institutional stability. The immediate needs of potential victims seemed secondary to these broader organizational concerns.
A particularly problematic framework emerged in Vallotton's categorization of leaders who cause harm. He presented a binary system: "wolves" who are intentionally malicious, and "broken people" who, while unsafe, deserve extended grace and mercy as redeemable family members.
This distinction, while perhaps well-intentioned, creates a dangerous loophole for abuse. The reality is that nearly every individual who causes harm has experienced brokenness or trauma in their own background. Predators and abusers are often masterful at constructing narratives of personal woundedness to explain away their actions, making them appear as merely "broken" rather than dangerous.
History provides sobering examples. High-profile criminals often present sympathetic backstories of childhood difficulty or personal trauma. The most effective predators are frequently those who can convincingly portray their harmful actions as cries for help rather than calculated abuse. They excel at manipulating the grace and compassion of communities to gain protection and continued access to victims.
The critical flaw in this framework is that it focuses on the perpetrator's intent rather than the impact of their actions. When someone in a position of spiritual authority uses that position to cause harm—whether through sexual misconduct, manipulation, or fraudulent claims of divine insight—the effect on victims is the same regardless of whether the perpetrator is a "wolf" by nature or a "broken person" who has lost control.
True accountability requires recognizing that broken people who are placed in positions of authority and subsequently abuse that authority have become wolves in function, if not in intention. The damage they inflict is real, and the institutional responsibility to prevent such damage remains paramount.
Wisdom dictates that individuals demonstrating significant brokenness or patterns of harmful behavior should not be elevated to positions where they can injure others. This is not a lack of grace but rather a proper application of it—grace that protects the vulnerable rather than shielding the powerful.
The Bethel situation illustrates a broader pattern seen across various religious and institutional contexts. When organizations become more invested in their own survival and reputation than in the well-being of those they serve, they create environments where abuse can flourish. The instinct to handle matters privately, to extend endless mercy to leaders, and to prioritize institutional image over transparency often serves to enable further harm.
What victims need is not private discipline and public endorsement, but clear acknowledgment of wrongdoing, protection from further harm, and institutional commitment to truth over image. They need to see that their safety matters more than a leader's career or a movement's reputation.
The delay in Bethel's public response—five years from awareness to action—speaks volumes about institutional priorities. During that time, supporters remained unaware of the concerns, potentially exposing more individuals to harm. The public continued to receive endorsements of Bolz's ministry, unaware of the serious questions about his practices and behavior.
This case serves as a cautionary tale for religious movements that emphasize charismatic gifts and prophetic ministries. Without robust accountability structures, transparency, and a commitment to victim protection, such movements can become vulnerable to exploitation by charismatic individuals who may be more skilled in performance than integrity.
The challenge moving forward is not whether to show mercy—mercy and grace are central to Christian teaching—but how to balance that mercy with justice and protection for the vulnerable. True grace does not require institutions to sacrifice victims on the altar of organizational preservation.
As this story continues to unfold, it raises essential questions for all faith communities: How do we create systems that protect the vulnerable while still offering pathways for redemption? How do we ensure that our desire to see the best in people doesn't blind us to the reality of harm? And most importantly, how do we build cultures where victims are believed and protected before institutions?
The answers to these questions will determine whether religious organizations can be safe spaces for the faithful or whether they will continue to prioritize power and reputation over people. The testimony of those who have been harmed—the skeletons now speaking—demands nothing less than fundamental reform in how institutions understand accountability, grace, and their primary duty to protect the flock.