Did Matt and Beth Redman Go Far Enough in “Let There Be Light”?

The recent release of Let There Be Light, a documentary by Matt and Beth Redman, has been a watershed moment in Christian leadership accountability. The 30-minute film shines a spotlight on their experiences with Mike Pilavachi, the disgraced leader of Soul Survivor, and his long-term abusive behaviour within the organisation. With grace and candor, the Redmans recount the emotional and psychological toll of Pilavachi’s actions, as well as the failures of those in positions of authority to act on clear warnings.

While the film is a brave and harrowing act of truth-telling, questions remain. Did Matt and Beth Redman go far enough? Have we heard the full story of who enabled and concealed Pilavachi’s behaviour? And do we need a part two to shed light on the systemic issues that allowed this toxic environment to thrive?

Unanswered Questions

One of the most striking elements of the documentary is the focus on the church’s culture of silence. Pilavachi’s behaviour - ranging from manipulative control to inappropriate physical interactions with interns - was an open secret to many. But who in leadership was approached about Pilavachi’s behaviour? What measures, if any, were taken before the scandals became public?

In their account, the Redmans allude to concerns being “pushed aside.” But by whom? Was there a culture within the church’s leadership that protected Pilavachi from scrutiny? The documentary hints at a pattern of enabling behavior that is as troubling as Pilavachi’s own actions. For the sake of transparency and healing, viewers need to know who failed to act and why.

Grace, truth, and a call for accountability

The Redmans’ approach to the documentary has been widely praised for its grace. They avoid bitterness, focusing instead on bringing truth into the light. But does grace risk muting accountability? While their restraint is commendable, there is an argument to be made that exposing systemic failures demands sharper scrutiny of the individuals and structures that allowed Pilavachi’s abuses to persist for decades.

Theologian Amy Orr-Ewing’s contribution to the documentary rightly points out that abuse of power is endemic not just in the church but across society. Yet the church, with its claim to represent Christ’s radical love and justice, must hold itself to a higher standard. It is not enough to expose one leader; the systems that elevate charisma over character must also be dismantled.

Do we need a part two?

Perhaps the most significant takeaway from Let There Be Light is that it is only the beginning of the conversation. Matt and Beth Redman have opened the door, but there is a need for further exploration. A follow-up film could delve into:

• Who in leadership was approached about Pilavachi’s behavior, and what did they do (or fail to do)?

• The role of church structures in enabling abuse and perpetuating silence.

• The psychological and spiritual impact on survivors and how they can be better supported.

• The cultural dynamics that prioritize loyalty to leaders over protecting the vulnerable.

Standing in the light

As Matt Redman powerfully concludes in the documentary, “The message from all of this is: bring things into the light.” But true light does not obscure shadows; it reveals them fully. If the church is to learn from this scandal, it must demand transparency - not just from individuals but from entire systems.

Matt and Beth Redman’s courage in sharing their story is a vital step, but the work is far from over. The church, and all who seek truth and justice, must keep asking hard questions. Only then can we hope to dismantle the toxic culture that allows abuses of power to thrive.

So, Matt and Beth, will there be a Let There Be Light: Part Two? For the sake of transparency, healing, and justice, let’s hope so.