Paul's Passing Thoughts

Truth is, I never wanted any of this. I have always been just an average Joe who just loves the truth. I was saved in 1983 and thought I knew a lot until 1988 rolled in. God brought a major crisis into my life and a long distance teacher for the class: Jay Adams. I thought I knew even more, which I did, but had no idea how much more God wanted me to learn. In circa 2000, a new pastor replaced the founding pastor of Clearcreek Chapel in Springboro, Ohio. I was a longtime member there, former elder, and it was the church my children grew up in.

For six years, I chalked up the weirdness to a different preaching style. I deemed those who left because of the new preaching as former pastor following malcontents. I didn’t think much of the sudden influx of families from Emanuel Baptist Church in downtown Dayton. I had no idea that an orchestrated takeover was in motion. In 2006, the weirdness just got too intense and I realized that the very gospel that I thought I knew was being challenged. Basically, I guess my problem is that I believe words mean things, and the question was clear: had I been leading my family in a false gospel of some kind for twenty-three years? They posited that challenge—not me. Was I not to take it seriously?

I only wanted answers. I asked many questions, but clear answers were not forthcoming. They could have met with me and explained what was going on. But no, they knew what they were teaching was controversial. They knew that the theological elephant had to be fed to the congregation a bite at a time. Besides, their doctrine holds to the idea that “showing forth the gospel” alone brings about change. The congregation didn’t need to be taught doctrine—they just needed to be shown the glory of the gospel in everything that was taught and they would change without even realizing it.

Doctrinal discussion would be a quibbling about how the living water was filling their cups, and that would not be tolerated. Those who quibbled about doctrine were brought under “redemptive church discipline” which focuses on showing the doctrinally concerned subject how evil they are. There is only one issue—how depraved you are as set against God’s holiness. If they can get you to see that, the counseling/discipline will achieve its redemptive goal and you will be well on your way to daily salvation and perpetual justification so that you may “stand in the judgment.” This is why “Pastor” Kennedy told my daughter that my life was “full of sin and evil.” What sin and evil? Specifics don’t matter; I believed I also had some goodness within me—game over. I was living in Luther’s “glory story” and not the “cross story”—all bets were off.

I was confused. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. The tension between me and the elders was getting worse and worse and I didn’t know how to stop it. And no one else could figure it out either. So, in desperation and confusion, others threw all kinds of counsel at me in hopes something would hit the target. No matter how much I obeyed the elders and their counsel, more was demanded because I thought those things pleased the Lord. The fact that I thought I could please the Lord was the glory story—they had to get me out of that story and into the cross story. And they couldn’t tell me that because then they wouldn’t know if it was my doing or the Spirits doing. They needed to break my will. I needed to see that I couldn’t please the Lord. I needed to see that I must “live by the gospel.”

And sadly, I must admit, they probably thought, and still think, that they were acting in love. But Jim Jones thought he was acting in love as well. I was falling, falling, falling, and didn’t know how to stop it. The Spirit wasn’t telling me what they wanted me to know. I lost my wife of 24 years. I lost four years of living in the same house with my son. I lost my name and my reputation. I lost all of my friendships of 20-plus years connected with the church. Those who I had pastored thought that I probably committed adultery as the specifics of my “sins” were not announced when I was excommunicated.

The specific “sins” were not the issue; the issue was the fact that I thought I had some goodness within me. That is a sin that rises to the level of church discipline—it is the only sin that matters. These people call church discipline “redemptive” for a reason. Words mean things. So what if my friends of over twenty years thought I was an adulterer? What the Lord knew about me was much worse anyway. Right?

Sadly, as John Immel so eloquently articulated in last year’s TANC conference, logic can lead to the most heartless activity with a clear conscience. Recently, at a concert, I observed several young people there who I had taught back-in-the-day at the Chapel. We are talking about young adults in their twenties. I taught them when they were just children as the AWANA commander at the Chapel. One that I did not see there, Danny, had once fulfilled an elementary school assignment by writing that I was the non-family member in his life that he looked up to most. He would later write as a young man on a Facebook page during the incident that I was a deadbeat that abandoned his family. The elders were propagating ideas at informal membership gatherings that they would not verbalize to mediators that were trying to intervene. They have also refused to put the specifics of why I was excommunicated in writing. They have also refused to release the counseling records associated with the incident which should serve to vindicate them. But, people just wouldn’t understand that what I didn’t do isn’t the issue—the issue is the sin of thinking one has goodness within them.

In situations like this, the wounds are many faceted and difficult to document. In some ways, their Reformed forefathers were kinder by burning those who thought they had goodness within them at the stake—those who dared to posit a doctrine of glory versus  Luther’s Theology of the Cross. The list could go on: those young people I saw at that concert consider me an enemy rather than a long-known confidant. Susan, my wife, and ministry partner, has lost several friends of 20+ years because of her support of this ministry. Friends are very important to Susan, and she doesn’t know any person other than me who has even set foot in Clearcreek Chapel’s building. False doctrine’s effect on life is truly incalculable.

Why? I did everything they wanting me to. I came back and allowed them to hold me hostage for four months. I even took the job that they wanted me to take. Why? Because I wanted to understand. I wouldn’t put 100% trust in the sultans of the cross story. I would not find absolution in them. That was my downfall.

Or was it a downfall? How else would I know why it happened? Because Protestant academics finally came along and taught me? Hardly. I now know because of my own intensive research over a six-year period. I had to know why. Now I know. This brings up an issue about me. I like challenges, but once I meet my goal, I tend to move on. The tenacity of my research was measured by the pain. I often hear people say, “Paul, this research just totally blows me away. What in the world drives all of this?” Answer: pain, and not understanding why it had to happen. But now I know why. And God has given me a wonderful new life with wonderful new friends—though fewer. The goal has been reached. And I have learned doctrinal things that I would have NEVER learned in seminary.

But now there is a new goal….the pain of others. Others need to know why. The new goal is founded in the emails I get:

Paul, we are all just walking around in our church [longtime members of over 20 years] like bewildered zombies. We don’t know what’s going on. Can you help us?

Yes I can. And you can be damn sure that as long as the Lord gives me breath, I will. I understand now, but will I walk away from those who were in my shoes almost six years ago? I will not. When it was apparent to me that I was well on my way to figuring all of this out, I tried to get other ministries and people with more credentials to take over so that I could go back to fishing. I even offered to give them all of my research that I used to write The Truth About New Calvinism. Long story short—that was an education in, and of itself. What prompted my meeting with church historian John Immel was also along these lines. Apparently, the Lord had different ideas. The meeting with Immel showed me that the road was not yet finished.

So, in 2013, TANC will,

1. Focus on educating doctrinally illiterate Protestants who are that way by Reformed ecclesiastic design. The fruit does not fall far from the Catholic tree.

2. Continue to articulate in better and better ways why Calvinism is a false gospel.

3. Network with others to expose the roots and causes of spiritual despotism.

4. Prevention: we have seen a progression of churches finding out that they have a New Calvinist applicant in the middle of the process rather than afterwards. The goal is an increase of instances where such applicants are weeded out by the pulpit committee before they are even considered.

5. Network with others to develop alternatives to Protestantism.

6. Call on others to help us, especially through the $5.00 box program.

7. Call on others to pray for us—that the Lord would be with us in a mighty way, and that we would not fear in seeing His power in this ministry.

Does the Lord want me to do this? Well, I am not one to speak for Him unless it is something specific in Scripture, but in light of what He has brought me through and what he has taught me in the process with opportunities to serve others to boot, I think so.

Nevertheless, here I go with all the strength that is in me, and if the Lord doesn’t want me to do it, He is certainly able to stop me.

But He will be the only one who can.

paul