worldwide church of god

Against the Gates of Hell: A Short Review

The book purports to tell the story of a church’s fight for religious liberty. Specifically, it’s supposed to be an insider’s account of the State of California’s actions against the Worldwide Church of God (WCG), legal actions that began 3 January 1979 and concluded some months afterward. The state placed the church into receivership to investigate allegations of fiscal impropriety. That, of course, fed right into the church’s prophecy that it would be persecuted in the end times, and after reading the book and doing some research, I’m not convinced the state acted wisely at all.

Still, the book is supposed to be about that legal battle, and it does cover some of that. There are a couple of chapters that are virtually hour-by-hour accounts of what happened in the first days, but quickly enough, Rader veers off and spends a great deal of the book covering other things:

  1. The biography of WCG founder Herbert Armstrong
  2. An autobiographical sketch of the author
  3. An account of all the traveling Armstrong and Rader did in the name of the church
  4. The story of the building of Ambassador Auditorium and the performers who performed there

My rough estimation is that only a third of the book (at best) is about the actual legal action. That’s too bad, because it’s in the other portions of the book that Rader loses all credibility, presenting accounts that just read like fabrications.

He writes of visiting Jordan and spending time “with Prince Mohammed, the younger brother of King Hussein.” The prince was eager to play chess with someone, and Rader’s wife Niki volunteered to play him. The prince won the first game, and as they began the second game, he admitted that it was somewhat unfair. “You see, I am the president of the Jordanian Chess Federation,” he explained.

My wife said nothing. She merely pursed her lips and then proceeded to demolish Mohammed, not only capturing his queen but also giving it back to him. The prince looked astounded and the board was set up a third time. Niki destroyed him again.

Rader explained to the astonished prince, that what his “‘wife failed to tell you was that she plays all the time’ I paused just a split second — ‘with Bobby Fischer.’ Fischer, of course, is the former world chess champion with whom Niki does play, though he beats her consistently.” Fischer was, at that time, associated with the WCG, and it’s possible that she did play some chess with him, but the anecdote feels contrived.

When writing about the initial concerts in Ambassador Auditorium, which the arts community in Los Angeles supposedly jealously resisted, he writes,

Resistance came from yet another area. When the 1975 series was announced, a rabbi, noted for his radical stance on issues, charged that the Church and the foundation were launching a grave assault on Judaism! In radio broadcasts and newspaper interviews, he urged a Jewish boycott of the series. His reasoning, as I gather it, was as follows: Jewish parents attending the concerts with their children would see a lovely campus, have their cars parked by polite, well-groomed Ambassador College students, sit in a splendid hall and view all around them other well-spoken, well-dressed students. On the way home, the parents would turn to each other and ask: “Why can’t our kids be more like that? Maybe we ought to send them to Ambassador College.” Then, of course, they would be converted. The situation may sound funny but it was serious.

Again, it seems silly. Even if this unnamed rabbi said that in mock seriousness, he was surely joking. Anyone who knows the bizarre and silly teachings of the WCG would realize that Jewish children would be at no risk of converting to a little group that suggests that proof that Britain is one of the Lost Ten Tribes is the “fact” that “Saxon” comes from a shortened version of “Isaac’s sons.” Just drop the initial letter and we have “Sacc’s sons”! (Herbert Armstrong floated this theory in his largely-plagiarized “The United States and Britain in Prohephy” book.)

A final example: Armstrong and Rader were trying to get Herbert von Karajan to conduct the inagural concert. In their conversation, they had the following exchange:

Thinking back, I can see how wildly ludicrous it all must have seemed. Here we were in Germany, talking about bringing over a great conductor and a great orchestra to play in an auditorium that wasn’t there, and blandly asking him to set a date. Yet so total was Mr.

Armstrong’s confidence, so potent his persuasiveness, and so appealing the picture we painted of the great cultural center, that von Karajan became convinced. He studied his calendar, trying to shift dates. But when he was available, the orchestra was not, and when the orchestra had time, he did not. Regretfully, he informed us that it would be impossible for him to come.

“Maestro,” I asked, “in your opinion, who is second to you in the world as a maestro?”

“There is no question,” he replied at once. “Second to me is Giulini.”

“Oh,” I said, glancing at Mr. Armstrong. “Is that right?” I had never heard of Giulini and neither, I was certain, had Mr. Armstrong.

“Absolutely,” Von Karajan was saying. “He is a great artist.”

This seems a caricature of what a “great conductor” would say. Second to me?! Perhaps von Karajan was so arrogant, but it just doesn’t seem realistic at all.

Finally, there was a conversation with Arthur Rubinstein:

Looking up, he asked Mr. Armstrong sternly: “Sir, are you a professional?” Mr. Armstrong, beaming said: “No, I’m not, but you are and you will agree after you have had a chance to play them.” He explained they were Steinways, carefully selected by him and purchased in Hamburg.

Now Rubinstein became distinctly annoyed. “Sir,” he said, “I don’t like that kind of talk from nonprofessionals.” Mr. Armstrong said he understood, but once again repeated his assertion.

With the pianist continuing to bristle, I felt it wise to change the subject. “Would you like some champagne?” I asked them. Mr. Rubinstein brusquely declined but Mr. Armstrong accepted. When the waiter began pouring Dom Perignon, Rubinstein noticed the bottle and said, “I’ll have some, thank you.” To me he said: “That is all I drink; I was afraid you might order something else.” That broke the ice somewhat and for the rest of the evening the conversation became less strained.

Mr. Rubinstein agreed to perform. A couple of days before his concert, I met him in front of the auditorium and escorted him inside. While he was enormously impressed with the grounds, the building and the foyer, the moment he stepped through the doors into the theatre – catastrophe! “This is terrible!” he exclaimed. Startled, I asked what he meant. “The carpeting, the upholstery. It’s too plush. The sound will be absorbed. It will never do! Oh, I should never have come… How could you have good music with this!”

“Maestro,” I reassured him, “I know what you think, but please believe me. The acoustics are absolutely perfect. Please don’t worry about it.” I followed him down the aisle toward the stage, trying to calm him but his agitation grew as he progressed. I could see he didn’t believe a word.

“Let me see the pianos,” he grumbled and stormed up to the stage.

He ran his Fingers over the keys and the miracle happened.

He played chords on one piano, and then literally ran to the other. For many minutes he scurried between them, playing on each, his face mirroring wonderment and pleasure. He was like a child in a candy store, going from one delight to the other and unable to make up his mind which to choose. Finally he said to me: “It’s never happened in my whole life. Never have I heard two finer pianos!”

Again, it just reads like invented braggadocio

That’s the tone of the whole book: it’s more Rader bragging about himself than anything else.

The Liberation of the Worldwide Church of God: A Review

Many observers who have been watching the changes within the Worldwide Church of God (WCG) in the last fifteen years have probably wondered about the dynamics within the church’s administration that might have lead to such a change. This is especially true since the truly major doctrinal changes, culminating with the acceptance of the Trinity and rejection of Sabbatarian doctrine in the mid–1990’s. An insider’s story would go a long way in explaining how the changes came about and be of interest and use to members and nonmembers alike.

When Joseph Tkach Jr.’s Transformed By Truth was released, it became immediately clear that this was not the “insider’s story” many people would have liked. Panned by most as shallow propaganda, Transformed fell out of print and has yet to be reprinted.

Michael Feazell’s The Liberation of the Worldwide Church of God generated controversy even before it was released. Many perceived the initial cover art as a condemnation of Herbert Armstrong, indicating that he was suffering eternal damnation for his heresy. Perhaps some Evangelicals might have hoped this was indicative of a coming out-right denunciation of Armstrong. Such was not the case, however. And while the book does offer some much-needed information about the changes within the Worldwide Church of God, it falls short of hard, critical analysis.

Governmental Structure, Christian Duty, and the Pace of Change

There is a certain lack of organization in the book, which initially was a cause of irritation. However, the ironic thing is that without this poor organization, an important facet of Liberation might have slipped by unnoticed.

On several occasions (see pages 45, 114, 119), Feazell makes the point that without the Armstrongian, authoritarian governmental model, the sweeping changes that occurred would never have been possible. I thought about this for a while and realized it was probably true, but it still left me uneasy. It wasn’t until a couple of days later that all the pieces of the puzzle (to use an apt Armstrong analogy, which bordered on cliché) fell into place.

One piece of the puzzle was Feazell’s claim that the Worldwide Church of God’s greatest sin was its exclusivist stance towards other Christians.

The sin of the Worldwide Church of God lay not only with its doctrinal error, but even more seriously with its arrogant, self-righteous, in-your-face declaration that it had the corner on the doctrinal market (169)

It did not follow Jesus’ commands to “have love, one for another.” “There are worse things than poor theology” (166), and this, Feazell reasons, is one of them.

Another piece was Feazell’s refusal to condemn Armstrong as a heretic.1 Feazell writes that God’s grace is sufficient enough to cover even bad theology. “How wrong did Herbert Armstrong have to be to be considered unworthy of God’s forgiving grace?” asks Feazell (101). He continues, “Don’t we all, doctrinally ‘pure’ and doctrinally odd alike, stand together at the foot of the cross, together in utter hopelessness and infinite need of God’s amazing grace?” (102). Feazell’s argument is that condemning Armstrong is drawing

boundaries around the potential of the grace of God to reach even into the area of doctrinal error. Yes, Herbert Armstrong taught error. But does not the grace of God extend even to doctrinal error? I have to believe it does (103).

In other words, Feazell is proposing that despite leading thousands astray, Armstrong is still in the “eternal embrace of the Lord” (149). Indeed, Feazell seems to indicate that condemning Armstrong constitutes another form of heresy: “Heresy comes in many forms, and surely one form is to place humanly devised limitations on the power and grace of God” (103). This is because “the blood of Jesus Christ is powerful enough even to wash his children clean from doctrinal error” (169).

The final piece appears when considering what Feazell writes about the unrelenting velocity of the changes in the WCG. He admits that things could have been slower in certain areas (namely, worship style), but regarding Armstrong’s heresies, “our backs were to the wall,” he writes. “When it comes to false doctrine, a church doesn’t have the luxury of pacing the change” (120). 2

When it came to doctrinal changes, however, we found ourselves having to weight faithfulness to God and commitment to truth against sound principles of managing change. On the one hand, change was coming too fast to be assimilated. On the other hand, how could we just sit on the truth? How could we deliberately allow our church to continue to believe and teach error and heresy? The responsibility to proceed with doctrinal changes once we became convicted of them was greater than the responsibility to go slowly (110).

Curiously, after spending several pages justifying Armstrong on the basis that God’s grace can overcome bad theology, and several more pages explaining that the WCG’s main problem was not its bad theology but its judgmental attitude, theology suddenly seems awfully important. Important enough to put their “backs to the wall” as if they’re standing in front of some denominational firing squad.

What Feazell is saying reduces down to this: Christ’s main command to his church was to love each other. Because of its judgmental attitude and exclusivist theology, the WCG did not fulfill this primary command, and as such, the WCG’s bad theology was actually periphery — not it’s main sin. Indeed, this command to love other Christians is one reason why we cannot condemn Mr. Armstrong. Additionally, such condemnation would be putting a limit on God’s grace, which surly covers bad theology. Still, we had to make all the changes with blinding rapidity and in complete confidentiality because to do otherwise would be another “affront to the gospel” (132).

All these things just doesn’t add up. If there are worse things than bad theology, why the desperate mid-90’s race to change this theology? If not having love one for fellow human beings is worse than bad theology, why rip out from under thousands their primary grounding?

All of this came to my attention when I began noticing that, due to the poor organization,3 Feazell pointed out several times that the authoritarian government structure that helped give the WCG its sectarian status was what enabled these drastic theological changes to be effected. However true that might be, it doesn’t necessarily follow that having such power to make these changes gives one the right to make them, especially in the clandestine fashion that they did. While he doesn’t use the same vocabulary, Feazell argues that it was their “Christian responsibility” to make these changes, much as the WCG argued that it was its responsibility to keep Mystery of the Ages out of circulation by suing the Philadelphia Church of God. Such a claim would simply be a hollow contradiction of what he says in Liberation is the responsibility of a Christian: to love others. Yet it is not surprising that these changes were effected as they were given Feazell’s view that the WCG constituted a “rather immature group” (123).

The Identity Issue and the Question of Audience

The question of identity is another recurring theme in the book. Many of the best passages of the book deal with the question of identity, and Feazell makes some of his best points regarding it. He writes that for the Worldwide Church of God, the question of identity was of utmost importance, whether it was the Biblical identity of United States and Britain or the identity of WCG members as the called out ones taking part in a great, global media enterprise. Feazell argues, though, that the only identity that truly matters is the identity of Christ, and that various groups’ identities are of secondary importance.

All the same, corporate identity of the WCG is very important for Feazell and the other administrators. The identity they’re all trying to cultivate is one of a moderately conservative evangelical denomination. As such, it’s not surprising how many times he tosses around phrases that sound like they come from a Max Lucado book. Examples include:

  • “Praise God for his grace!” (130).
  • “The gospel broke into our hearts like a clear, fresh, bubbling mountain brook after an exhausting, seemingly endless climb over burning rocks and parched soil on a blistering day” (139).
  • Worship should be “a genuine rehearsal of the gospel story” (80).

One might legitimately ask, “What does a ‘genuine rehearsal of the gospel story’ look like?” Feazell doesn’t proffer and answer, perhaps assuming that at least a significant portion of his target, evangelical audience will know what this vague, feel-good phrase could possibly mean.

It is not the only example of fuzzy, self-affirming evangelical haziness. A few pages later, Feazell includes this description of the gospel, which deserves to be quoted at length:

According to Frederick Buechner, the key to effective preaching is honesty. And as Buechner asserts, the incarnation is the epitome of honesty. That is because Jesus Christ — God with us, God in the flesh — ever faithful, meets us precisely where we are — in a particular place in a particular time in the particular reality of our broken and wretched humanity. He offers himself as the perfect means to our healing and restoration, and he perfectly establishes in himself our eternal significance and future.

We are made in such a way that this astounding truth reaches our hearts through the stimulation of our imagination — not through the logical “proofs” and stacks of facts we like to amass before we are prepared to believe anything that threatens to significantly change the way we live. and Buechner is surely right about the sheer wildness of this story. It is an extravagant tale — at once shocking, disturbing, comforting, and thrilling. It is a paradox of unbounded power and senseless self-sacrifice, a song of indescribably love in the face of brutal disaster. It is the turning and twisting story of the crucible of our confusing lives into which God himself has entered to bring meaning to the absurd.

Always surprising, always unexpected, always turning the endlessly resurfacing tragedy to hope, always piercing turmoil with peace, always wringing joy out of pain, this gospel is the reality from which all forms of the human story flow. In the gospel everything changes, yet everything continues as it was before. In the gospel of Jesus Christ the impossible is possible though it cannot be done, and the darkness is lit with invisible light. As Fredrick Buechner so richly puts it, this gospel is “the tale that is too good not to be true” (85, 86).

Once again, it is legitimate to ask what exactly all that means. In some ways, it seems empty — simply poetic description of the gospel, meant to resonant with evangelical Christians. Not only that, but one can question what the point is of the last two paragraphs is, except to show his Protestant audience that the WCG has indeed changed. Referring to the “sheer wildness” of the gospel and describing it with phrases like “a song of indescribably love in the face of brutal disaster,” “the endlessly resurfacing tragedy to hope,” and “the reality from which all forms of the human story flow” firmly places Feazell in the evangelical community, at least in appearance.

Condemning Armstrong

Feazell and the Worldwide Church of God leadership are in an interesting position. They have to condemn the heresies of Herbert Armstrong. However, the primary heresy, according to Feazell, is that Armstrong relegated all of Christendom to satanic deception and heresy. In a sense, then, it is the ultimate finger-pointing game.

Feazell must walk a fine line: on the one hand he has to condemn Armstrong’s theology; on the other, he has to show that that theology has changed and is no longer exclusivist (which was, in Feazell’s assessment, the primary sin of the WCG), condemning all of Christianity to being the “Whore of Babylon.” As such, Feazell in his book begins by condemning Armstrong’s theology, switches to a brief rebuke of those who condemn Armstrong’s person, and ends again condemning Armstrong’s theology. In other words, he swings back and forth between condemning Armstrong and condemning those who condemn Armstrong.

Recalling that Armstrong’s main problem was his exclusivist views, Feazell writes, “I pray we never descend again to thinking ourselves the legitimate arbiters of truth versus error” (100). Yet just two pages earlier, he writes, “I will go so far as to say that Sabbatarianism prevents anyone who believes in it from coming fully to the freedom of the gospel” (98). Isn’t that, to some degree, arbitrating truth and error? The “true” gospel is not a Sabbatarian gospel, he seems to be saying. Earlier still he conjectured that as long as people “continue to believe that Armstrong was what he claimed to be, they cannot fully enjoy the richness, rest, and joy of salvation that is theirs through confidence in Jesus” (97). One cannot have the true gospel in one’s heart and be an “Armstrongite.” Indeed, Armstrongism (or Armstrong himself — it’s not clear exactly which Feazell is referring to, and I suspect that is not an accidental ambiguity) was a “Barrier to Christ” (96). Further, when several ministers proposed a middle-ground compromise that would allow some churches to follow Armstrong’s Old Covenant teachings and others to follow Tkach’s New Covenant changes, it was “rejected as an affront to the gospel” (132). In other words, it was wrong.

The tensions within the WCG administration thus come to full view. In order to embrace traditional Christianity, the administration must continue to commit Armstrong’s “biggest sin” and arbitrate between right and wrong. The primary difference now, though, is that the WCG’s sense of orthodoxy is the polar opposite of what it was under Armstrong.

“If you can’t say anything good . . .”

Despite the problems, Liberation does offer some new views and surprisingly astute analysis. The stress on identity, while problematic as discussed earlier, does show how critical the question of identity was in the Worldwide Church of God.4 It is a fairly well established sociological fact that groups with a worldview that deviates from that of society as a whole will expend a great deal of effort constructing, defending (i.e., apologetics), and protecting that worldview and the accompanying identity. Feazell’s recognition of the importance of identity in a cognitively deviant group is good to see.

Perhaps the best point Feazell makes is regarding the formation of the church and members’ role in it.

Begun not as a church but a media ministry, the church just “happened” in the wake of Armstrong’s mass media proclamation. Until the day he died, Armstrong saw the role of the church as simply to stand behind him in prayer and financial support in his mission of preaching the gospel to the world.

This also touches on the issue of identity, for now members must identify themselves as “members of a local church [and not] a group of special people called to support a powerful, globe-girdling media ministry” (109). Further, it follows such a vision will impact worship in the WCG.

Once again, worship is relegated to the role of a tool to uphold Herbert Armstrong as God’s appointed end-time apostle and Armstrong’s church as the one and only true church, the body to which one must belong in order to be saved (85).

It also seems to have influenced how the WCG proselytized: “Rather than evangelize unbelievers, the Worldwide Church of God targeted the Christian community” (153). Most importantly, it follows that since members were called to support Armstrong they were not called for individual salvation.

There was a surprising amount of forthrightness, though not as much as many WCG critics would have liked. The admission of lack of WCG vision, for example, is surprisingly forthright (145), and as mentioned before, the analysis of this fact is quite enlightening. Further, the admission of potential bankruptcy is surprising (130).

Yet despite these surprises, the book has little going for it. As I pointed out, it is certainly revealing, showing a certain level of contradiction in the messages and behavior of denominational headquarters. However, I doubt such “revelation” is what Feazell was planning.

Notes

1 Some exiters and critics of the Worldwide Church of God claim this is further proof that the WCG is still essentially a cult, but that doesn’t necessarily follow.

2 It’s interesting that he writes that the administration could and “should have gone much more slowly with changes in worship style” (120). I don’t recall such changes causing the monumental problems in people’s lives that the changes regarding the Sabbath and God’s nature did. I never heard a comment like, “Oh my! We don’t have to do three hymns, followed by the opening prayer and sermonette, with another hymn before announcements. We have freedom in how Sabbath services are organized! This is chaos! And we all know who the author of confusion is!”

3 A prime example of the poor organization is the scattered discussion of the Sabbath. Feazell discusses it at length page 98, delving into the well-worn, evangelical cliché that Jesus is the Christian’s real Sabbath. Yet he discussed it from Armstrong point of view on page 77 to 84. In between is a bit about Armstrong’s false prophecies, and a section dealing with the simple fact that Armstrong was “not what he claimed to be” (97). It would have made more sense to consolidate all the discussion of the Sabbath into one chapter.

4 According to my reading notes, the idea of identity is mentioned at least ten times, on the following pages: 69, 71, 83, 94, 107, 124, 125, 137, 142, and 144.

Friday Night Football

When I was in high school, Friday night football was, during the beginning of the year, the highlight of the week. Everyone would arrive early to stake out their seats and make sure all the lowly freshmen got the worst seats. Friends saved seats for each other, and had cell phones existed then, they likely would have been texting each other, asking where they were, demanding that they hurry.

All the students went to cheer on the team, to hang out, to escape parents, to escape the everyday. The cheerleaders led everyone with raucous, taunting chants, and the marching band took the spotlight during halftime. The football players looked, and probably felt, a bit like stars.

My next-door neighbor played on the football team, and though we were not close, I’d wish him luck with the game if I saw him that day. The neighbor across the street also played, but even though I was closer to him than my next-door neighbor during our childhood, by the time we reached high school, we rarely talked.

Win or lose, spirits were always high. While everyone wanted the home team to win, it wasn’t just about the game’s outcome. It was about the friendship and closeness that everyone experienced.

At least I’m assuming it was, for I never went to a Friday night high school football game as a kid. Not once. It was in part because of a lack of desire, I suppose: football was never really something I loved except for a short couple of years when I was in second and third grade. (Or was it first and second grade? Or third and fourth grade? Hard to remember.) The main reason I never went was because it was off limits: growing up in a sabbatarian sect, we observed Friday night sundown to Saturday night sundown as the Sabbath, and all worldly cares and events went by the wayside. A Friday night football game was most certainly out of the question.

I never really wanted to go, but I wouldn’t have been able to even if I did want it.

Or I tell myself that. Could my inability to go, my knowledge long before I could develop a desire to go that I would never be allowed to go, my certainty that there was something deeply and spiritually wrong with going to watch a football game on Friday night — could that have tempered my desire before it ever developed?

I tell myself that I would not have felt comfortable there even if I did go because most of that crowd — the in-crowd, the popular crowd — felt uncomfortable. But why? If I’m honest it’s because I was always distancing myself to begin with: I knew I could never really do any of the things they did on the weekend even if I was invited, even if they begged me because they thought I was the most amazing person to be around, even if I were king of homecoming (which I could have never been because, well, it’s probably obvious). I’d never been terribly close to any of them outside of school (and perhaps playing in the neighborhood after school) during elementary school, and that moved with me into junior high where it settled into a sort of permanent quasi-outsider sense that I carried with me into college.

So at tonight’s high football game — the first I, at nearly fifty years old, had ever been to in my life — I found myself wondering how different my light might have been if I had not grown up in what can only charitably be called a sect. I’m not bitter about my childhood; I don’t regret that life; I appreciate what I got in return for Friday night and Saturday events.

But I still can’t help but wonder…

Monday Afternoon

Yesterday was such a busy day that I didn’t even take the time to share everything that happened. The Christmas tree got a mention but little else, and the promise of the lights we put up around the house was about there was of the final product. So it would be tempting just to post those pictures and call it day. After all, there is continuity with the pictures and the day’s before.

“That tree is enormous” seemed to be the general consensus — certainly the biggest one we’ve ever brought into our house. “Remember that first tree stand we used?” K mused as she held the tree later that night while I, sprawled on the floor, loosened all the screws holding the tree in place and reinforced it with planks of wood. He might have held a tree half the size of the one we have in our living room now, but it would just laugh at the tree we brought home Sunday.

1-DSCF7437

But to leave today’s story at that would be leaving out the wonder of today. For example, a girl in my most challenging — and as a result, often most rewarding — class left the room without asking permission. It’s not the kind of thing I would have expected her to do. I went out to talk to her and determined that she’d removed herself from a stressful situation so that she wouldn’t say something she regretted. It turned out, she’d already kind of said that anyway, making a comment under her breath that probably shouldn’t have even been said at all. “But she was off task, and being distracting,” S protested. I suggested that she really didn’t need to say what she said, no matter what M was doing, and after some thought, she agreed. We went back into the room and I suggested that to be really mature, to take the situation to the next level, she might want to apologize to the girl in question. And she agreed. And in a few moments, the two of them were in the hall together, working out their problems like forty-year-olds instead of fourteen-year-olds. So to leave that out of the day’s story would be a minor tragedy.

But there was still the Boy and our time exploring before dinner.

As I was putting on my shoes, E pointed out that the giant ladder truck that had been mine at his age and which Nana and Papa had saved was in sad repair. “It’s not new and shiny like it was when you got it,” he observed rather philosophically. “Did you get that from Santa?” he asked after a pause, and I thought, “Well, here it is.” It’s a moment I knew was coming, was surprised that never came with L, and yet while dreading it in a way, paradoxically never really gave it too much thought.

But it reminded me of something I wrote on a blog I used to run, now almost ten years defunct, in which I dissected the statements of leaders of various religious groups that all clung to the same beliefs I grew up with after the church in which I grew up declared its own beliefs heretical and moved to Protestant orthodoxy. When L was born, I struggled to find the time and motivation to keep it up, so in August of 2007, I resigned:

I’ve been struggling—to find topics for this blog, to maintain my interest in all things Armstrong, to find time to care.

Truth be told, to care.

Jared said it best in a recent comment:

[A] moribund XCG is [not] entirely a bad thing either. After all, there’s only so much one can say about Armstrongism before you’ve said it all. (Source)

I don’t feel like I’ve said it all—there are thousands of words that could still be written about the phenomenon of Herbert Armstrong and the sect he formed. Yet, I really no longer have the interest or time to write anymore words about it.

I feel like Chicken Little, for our common XCG sky will continually fall. David Pack will talk about his web site statistics until the day he dies. Rod Meredith will provide critics with still more reasons to call him Spanky until the day he dies. Those in the upper echelons of the dwindling WCG will continue to talk about their amazing transformation until the day they die.

But I will not be commenting on them at that point, and I certainly won’t be commenting on them when I die.

About six months ago, I started preparing a final post, but I kept putting it off. I thought, “Maybe I’ll just write a little here, a little there,” for a while. Several have noticed and commented on this, and I have remained silent as to the cause of this dip in output.

My initial draft of this post might provide clarification:

Certain things in life force us to see things in a different perspective. Births, deaths, marriages, divorces, conversions—these are the kinds of things that make us stop and reflect on where we are, what we are, and most importantly, what we’re doing with the short time we have on Earth.

We have twenty-four hours in a day. We work at least eight of them; we sleep six to eight of them; we wash, shave, cook, eat, clean, drive, exercise and a million other forms of maintenance for another three or four a day. That leaves us with precious few hours a day for ourselves.

What do we do with that time?

Until recently, I spent time looking at, analyzing, and even mocking the beliefs and actions of a group of people I no longer have anything in common with.

Recent developments in my life now make that a less-than-ideal way to spend my free time.

The “certain event” I was referring to was the birth of my first child.

Since then, I’ve been of thinking about what I want my daughter to know about my own religious past. Truth is, I want her to know as little as possible. Because of shame? Embarrassment? Certainly not. I don’t want her to know for the simple reason that it no longer impacts my life. I can’t see much positive coming from me ever going into any detail with her about what I used to believe, about what her grandparents used to believe, about the fact that a true handful of people in the world still believe it. I don’t believe it, and that’s that.

And so, to quote one of my favorite authors:

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes—and ships—and sealing-wax—
Of cabbages—and kings—
And why the sea is boiling hot—
And whether pigs have wings.”

To talk of many things—but not the XCG. And not here.

I appreciate all the support I’ve received during this little two-and-a-half-year adventure. I thank all the fellow contributors who, throughout these last nearly thirty months, have helped to make the discussion here a little more balanced. I am grateful to all you regulars. You really kept the site going.

Most of all, I’m heartened by some of the comments of the past, folks telling me that I have helped them in some way. I appreciate you sharing those thoughts, for it gave me a certain joy that I will truly never forget.

But the time has come.

Best wishes to all, ill wishes to none, and I leave with the hope that if we ever meet again, we’ll have so much more to talk about than the XCG.

And since then, the Girl never once asked about Santa for me (for we didn’t celebrate such heathen festivals), and I’d really forgotten about it. Of course I still write about the phenomenon, as evidenced by a post earlier this week (and as the thirtieth anniversary of Herbert Armstrong’s death is just a little over a month away, I will likely write about it again in the near future). But I hadn’t thought about what I’d say to the Boy or the Girl about my religious upbringing. It just didn’t seem important at all in a way. Until E asked me if Santa had brought me the ladder truck. I thought about it for a moment, realizing that a philosophical/theological treatise was certainly not required, and simply answered, “No, buddy, Santa didn’t bring it to me.” Maybe some day, he’ll ask about it again. Probably not. We’ll cross that little relatively insignificant bridge when we come to it.

A Tragedy in the Making

hwa
Herbert Armstrong

It had to happen. From the morning of January 16, 1986, it became an inevitability. When the charismatic leader of a religious organization dies, change is inevitable. I suppose it doesn’t have to be a particularly charismatic leader to necessitate change when he dies, but the more charismatic, the harder it is to maintain the same arch of theological development because so much of the theology is grounded in the leader’s personality, whether or not followers admit or even are aware of it.

When Herbert Armstrong (HWA) died in 1986, there was no way things could go on as they had before. The most basic reason was simple: everyone believed, implicitly or explicitly, that Armstrong would be alive until the end of time as we know it, until Jesus’s second coming. When he passed in his sleep without a single trumpet blast from heaven, without a chorus of angels announcing the return of God incarnate to Earth, it was the first of several inevitable changes in theology. When the new leadership began changing doctrinal distinctives like British-Israelism and the nature of God, the changes were simply too much for some who longed to return to the age of Armstrong. They removed themselves from fellowship and formed an offshoot. More like a hundred-and-some offshoots, but three or four main ones.

Each of these offshoots were in competition for new members as they left the parent organization for the dozens of newly-forming off-shoots, and for many, the medium for measuring the acceptability of this or that splinter group (as they came to be called) when considering membership became the group’s faithfulness to Armstrong’s teachings, which constituted true Christianity restored again. But slowly, inevitably, these groups began tinkering around the edges of Armstrong’s theology. This point was “clarified,” and that one “elucidated.” Nothing ever really changed — it was all euphemistically described to the followers, just as it had been in the original group after Armstrong’s death.

Press-2
David Pack

David Pack, though, founded a group called the Restored Church of God that built its whole membership on the solemn promise that nothing about HWA’s teachings would change. But reality tends to get in the way of such far-reaching promises, and one of the earliest dilemmas for the church was the appropriate use of the Internet in spreading Pack’s (and by extension, HWA’s) theological musings. After all, Mr. Armstrong didn’t use the Internet: he used radio and television. For the outsider, this seems like a simple issue: Herbert Armstrong didn’t use the Internet because it didn’t exist, and so it wasn’t any kind of doctrinal issue, just an administrative decision. Still, Pack took a whole sermon to explain to his small flock that, even though it looked like he was making a change, he wasn’t making a doctrinal change.

But further challenges waited.

As Pack was only ordained a pastor in Armstrong’s church before the breakup, and as he recognized only Armstrong as an authority, he had another problem: He wasn’t doing a pastor’s job. He was preaching the Armstrongite Gospel to the world, which Herbert Armstrong always taught is an apostle’s job. Armstrong was, in the eyes of his followers (which is really all that matters), an apostle on the same standing as the New Testament apostles, and for a pastor to step out of his assigned roll like that seemed mutinous. It was change. So in 2004, Pack declared himself an apostle as well. Problem solved.

But a door opened.

Once a leader who has sworn not to change a single teaching of his claimed predecessor, all doctrines become open for review. This is what happened in the Worldwide Church of God that ultimately led to its turn to orthodoxy and the thousands upon thousands of members who fled to other splinter groups to hold on to the faith once delivered. Pack would have to be very careful not to make changes that seem too drastic, too far-reaching. The solution: add doctrines. Don’t change any existing ones — just add. “These weren’t revealed to Herbert Armstrong because he didn’t need to know it, but now I can restore this truth.”

He has criticized other leaders for doing this, but it was of course inevitable that he do it himself. But how far could he go? He declared himself an apostle in 2004 shortly after declaring himself to be the prophesied “Watchman.” It’s been over ten years since he made a major change that he’s revealed to the public. In his most recent sermon, though, Pack makes the biggest and most dramatic change of his career, arguably of just about any of the splinter leaders.

In short, he makes the claim that if “you were called by God, and you are to participate in his work and walk in his ways, you have to turn over your assets to God’s church” and that “salvation is attached to [this new doctrine].” He calls this doctrine “Common,” and roots it in the observation that the New Testament church apparently shared a lot of things.”Not even Armstrong went that far,” a friend and fellow cult-watching enthusiast commented, and that’s about right: it is such a drastic change from Armstrong’s simple requirement of a 10% tithe on pre-tax income figures that it amounts a wholesale theological change. After all, how can you tithe 10% when you’ve already contributed all your assets?

This change reveals a megalomaniac mindset of literally historic proportions, a cult of personality that is simply dangerous.

Yet how could this happen? How could he go so much further than Herbert Armstrong ever dared, demanding more fiscally from his followers than Armstrong even dreamed of requiring? It is in part because I believe Armstrong was more mentally stable. Armstrong declared himself to be prophesied in the Bible, but he claimed no supernatural powers for himself. Pack has done just that.

Just what these extraordinary powers might be remains unanswered. But clearly there’s a disconnect between reality and how Pack sees reality. But when you see yourself literally in the Bible — well, when you see yourself in the Bible after using some horrible interpretative techniques — there’s almost no limit to what you can attribute to yourself. It’s not too hard to see how far reality has taken leave from Pack.

To suggest that because one Greek word appears to be pronounced like the man’s hometown — that shows just how little Pack understands basic exegetical concepts. But it gets worse:

Moses’s “strong hand” equals Armstrong? It would be laughable if it weren’t for the fact that so many people are allowing themselves to be duped with this nonsense.

One would think that after the long history of false predictions, both in the Armstrong community and in the general Christian prophecy-loving population, that a leader of a group in 2015 would have learned some lessons. If he hadn’t learned from others, one would think that Pack at least learned from himself. In 2004, for example, he stated the following, playfully edited:

It is now 2015, so apparently we did have ten years remaining until the end of the world as we know it, and I would wager that, come 2019, we still won’t have seen the end of the world. And yet, on and on he will go until the day that he dies continually proclaiming that “time is short,” just like Armstrong did.

G Has Left the Building

For just short of three years, I ran a web site that was highly popular with a very small demographic, writing about something that the vast majority of Americans and an even larger majority of potential international readers — we’re talking the 99.9999999% range — would have never even heard of. That topic was the various offshoots of a small Christian group, the Worldwide Church of God, with a peak membership of no more than 150,000, that imploded in the mid-1990’s when it changed all its distinctive, heterodox doctrines and began moving to mainstream, Evangelical Christianity. With that change, which the church leadership enacted in what many considered to be an underhanded, deceptive manner, the church membership dropped to roughly sixty thousand within a couple of years, then to thirty thousand in a few more years, as members sought newly-formed organizations that still clung to the Worldwide Church of God’s original teachings, left for mainstream Christian groups, or dropped out of religion altogether.

hwa
Herbert W. Armstrong

In the early years, there was a great deal of bickering and sniping among the splinter organizations about which group most faithfully adhered to the teachings of Herbert Armstrong, founder of the Worldwide Church of God. It provided fascinating, sometimes amusing reading, and having grown up in the organization and just dropped out of a philosophy of religion graduate program, I was hooked.

I started a web site, recruited fellow writers, developed a readership, and wrote almost daily about this or that church’s latest proclamation, declaration, or whine. As an atheist, I took a particularly smug tone, resorting often to heavy sarcasm and occasionally to outright mockery. Still, my pseudo-academic background led me to write several serious analyses of this or that organization’s claims and arguments, and I occasionally got comments about how the site helped this or that individual.

Then L was born, and I suddenly had no time. For some period before that my interest had been waning, but I hung on, convinced that what I was doing was somehow significant but doubting it was. Then, about eight months after L was born, after steadily decreasing posting, I called it quits with the following post.


I’ve been struggling–to find topics for this blog, to maintain my interest in all things Armstrong, to find time to care.

Truth be told, to care.

Jared said it best in a recent comment:

[A] moribund XCG is [not] entirely a bad thing either. After all, there’s only so much one can say about Armstrongism before you’ve said it all.

I don’t feel like I’ve said it all–there are thousands of words that could still be written about the phenomenon of Herbert Armstrong and the sect he formed. Yet, I really no longer have the interest or time to write anymore words about it.

I feel like Chicken Little, for our common XCG sky will continually fall. David Pack will talk about his web site statistics until the day he dies. Rod Meredith will provide critics with still more reasons to call him Spanky until the day he dies. Those in the upper echelons of the dwindling WCG will continue to talk about their amazing transformation until the day they die.

But I will not be commenting on them at that point, and I certainly won’t be commenting on them when I die.

About six months ago, I started preparing a final post, but I kept putting it off. I thought, “Maybe I’ll just write a little here, a little there,” for a while. Several have noticed and commented on this, and I have remained silent as to the cause of this dip in output.

My initial draft of this post might provide clarification:

Certain things in life force us to see things in a different perspective. Births, deaths, marriages, divorces, conversions–these are the kinds of things that make us stop and reflect on where we are, what we are, and most importantly, what we’re doing with the short time we have on Earth.

We have twenty-four hours in a day. We work at least eight of them; we sleep six to eight of them; we wash, shave, cook, eat, clean, drive, exercise and a million other forms of maintenance for another three or four a day. That leaves us with precious few hours a day for ourselves.

What do we do with that time?

Until recently, I spent time looking at, analyzing, and even mocking the beliefs and actions of a group of people I no longer have anything in common with.

Recent developments in my life now make that a less-than-ideal way to spend my free time.

The “certain event” I was referring to was the birth of my first child.

Since then, I’ve been of thinking about what I want my daughter to know about my own religious past. Truth is, I want her to know as little as possible. Because of shame? Embarrassment? Certainly not. I don’t want her to know for the simple reason that it no longer impacts my life. I can’t see much positive coming from me ever going into any detail with her about what I used to believe, about what her grandparents used to believe, about the fact that a true handful of people in the world still believe it. I don’t believe it, and that’s that.

And so, to quote one of my favorite authors:

“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things:
Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax–
Of cabbages–and kings–
And why the sea is boiling hot–
And whether pigs have wings.”

To talk of many things–but not the XCG. And not here.

Some might be wondering whether this signals the end of my presence on the XCG scene. It does. In fact, I doubt very much that I will even “lurk.” As a famous, oft-misquoted teacher once said, “It is finished.”

I appreciate all the support I’ve received during this little two-and-a-half-year adventure. I thank all the fellow contributors who, throughout these last nearly thirty months, have helped to make the discussion here a little more balanced. I am grateful to all you regulars. You really kept the site going.

Most of all, I’m heartened by some of the comments of the past, folks telling me that I have helped them in some way. I appreciate you sharing those thoughts, for it gave me a certain joy that I will truly never forget.

But the time has come.

Best wishes to all, ill wishes to none, and I leave with the hope that if we ever meet again, we’ll have so much more to talk about than the XCG.


What had I accomplished?

I’d made several people mad: some sent me nasty emails or left malicious comments. Still, what could I expect? Wasn’t I doing the exact same thing with others’ beliefs? Some people threatened my web host with a lawsuit, but since the group in question was outside my scope of interest and never directly or indirectly mentioned on my web site, even a libel claim was ridiculous.

I’d inspired others to start their own web sites, and I’d provided apologists with plenty of material in turn for their own writing. What could I expect? With me criticizing them, they were right to criticize me, and since no leader or group was going officially to deal with a puny little hen like me, individual members took on the responsibility, inasmuch as the various churches officially allowed such activities.

But what about helping people? I’d always assumed that I must be doing that, that I must be helping others see the errors in logic that the various groups committed. Still, I only had a couple of emails. The comments to my farewell post provided a bit more information.


Comments

exrcg 08/22/2007 11:12 PM

thank you G — your site certainly helped me when i transitioned out of the cog world a couple years ago — it was a comment i made at that time, and i echo it again here. your efforts have been appreciated.

Jared Olar 08/22/2007 11:16 PM

I’ve been wondering when you were going to wrap it up here. Of course you told me before, after your daughter’s birth, that you were going to bow out soon. You hung on longer than I thought you were going to.

So long, and thanks for letting me have rather too much fun with Bob Thiel. Now go raise that little girl of yours and kiss [K]. Real Life is calling . . .

Lao Li 08/22/2007 11:41 PM

Thanks for all the work G.

The void between postings was a sign that time is short, we were in the gun lap!

Keeping something like this going can be the same as problems facing the COGs. Sometimes there’s some new input, but otherwise it’s just moving bones from one grave to another.

So long, and thanks for all the fish.

Church Corporate Critic 08/23/2007 12:12 AM

My thanks as well.

We wish you well.

You will be a much healthier person mentally.

Church Corporate Critic 08/23/2007 12:20 AM

I have a going away present:

gods

The peer review team liked it more than is customary for such articles.

It too may the last of its kind.

Robert 08/23/2007 01:19 AM

So, I’m going to take this opportunity to plug my own blog, and I hope you won’t mind. It’s a little different than XGC for a couple reasons: 1) It feature the stories of people who were in or around WCG and who now have given up faith entirely, and 2) I pretty much let them write it, so I have had no problem keeping it going since 1997– Wow, 10 years!

Non-Believer Former Members of the WCG
http://ironwolf.dangerousgames.com/exwcg/

Dennis 08/23/2007 09:21 AM

Excellent job G and yes, there is a time to move on as I know you have. The world will little note, nor long remember what you have done here…but I’m glad you’re in the neighborhood so we can have lunch and a good laugh from time to time!

And..for a limited time, if you act now, a free opportunity to finally be rubbed the right way by a former minister of WCG! Call now for a free assesment to see if you are sane enough to come to the office.
Best of all things to you and your family. I have a third little girl coming to the planet compliments of my son and daughther in law today, even as we speak.

charlie kieran 08/23/2007 10:30 AM

Best wishes G for you and your family. Congratulations on that little girl! This blog and a few others were a big help for me. My folks are still under the armstrongist thumb so I’ll continue to work on them in the meantime I just tell my kids not to pay any attention to what Pop-Pop says about God. For the most part I’ll be moving on as well although I’ll check in from time to time on Gavin’s site just to see what is going on. I just don’t have the time anymore and my fourth child is due in February.

Dennis: Congratulations on another grandchild and best wishes to your son and daughter in law.

It has been great reading posts from everyone!

Byker Bob 08/23/2007 11:23 AM

Well, G, we’re on the same page! I’ve recently found myself either satiated, or undergoing waning interest in all things ACOG, and have been visiting all the regular sites less and less over the past several months. That’s probably a good thing, because it indicates that everything is processed.

I really don’t know if there are any answers to all of the great philosophical and religious questions mankind has asked himself over the centuries. About all a person can do is to be kind to fellow man, and indulge in the pursuit of happiness.

Thank you for all of the thought provoking materials presented here, and the work that went into them. Best wishes for a good life for you and your family. It’s been fun being part of the xCG community and making some friends here.

BB

paul 08/23/2007 05:29 PM

My daughter was born this year, and between that and graduate school, time is short. I understand your position; it would be impossible for me to do what you have been doing. It’s been a good time!

But as far as the XCG’s and my daughter go, it is my duty to protect her from such garbage. I have to shield her from the apocolyptic-paranoid-fearful-slave mindset of the in-laws who are in the LCG. I don’t want my girl’s mind poisoned. I don’t even want her exposed to the XCG Lite mindset of my mother. I’m an atheist now, and I won’t hide it from my daughter…but then again I don’t mind if my wife wants to raise her as a Christian, so long as she hears both sides and gets to make up her own mind. But XCGdom? Forget it. I don’t want that filth near her. In this vein, I still have an interest in the XCG’s. Keep an eye on the enemy.

Paul

Gavin 08/24/2007 01:50 AM

Shucks G, what can I say? You’ve been a much appreciated kindred spirit, and flown the flag for the power of free-thinking in a community known for a lack of just that. I understand the need to let it go. Thanks for everything you’ve done: XCG has been an empowering venture with a distinctive voice of its own.

Kia kaha: strength to your arm

Gavin

Buffalo 08/24/2007 02:20 AM

:)

Anonymous 666 08/24/2007 09:47 AM

G,

How long do we have?

boston blackie 08/24/2007 11:20 AM

Or you could announce your retirement, pop back in from time to time as a guest blogger on Gavin’s other “Coast to Coast” site and then surprise us all with a new format — just like some folks we know. =)

“Wanna take a ride?”

Best wishes there G, whatever you choose to do!

Mario 08/24/2007 01:31 PM

Thanks for being instrumental in our exodus from an (x)CoG G.

Congrats on your new arrival. Enjoy the moments, they go by so fast…

Peace to you and yours

John 08/24/2007 09:05 PM

Thanks so much G. Your site played a very important role in helping me exit the cult, and in convincing me that suicide was not the best path.

You and Gavin literally saved my life.

My best wishes to you and I hope life brings you many, many bountiful joys.

Frenchie 08/25/2007 09:22 AM

Congratulations on the birth of your first child … it is indeed a life-changing event.
You did say one thing that has total truth in it in your “good-bye” .

the fact that a true handful of people in the world still believe it

I know that you meant “just a few”
But it is the TRUE people of God who still believe and will continue to believe.

May you find your way.

Byker Bob 08/26/2007 01:50 PM

Oh, Man! What a cheap shot, Frenchie!

Actually, I hope that one day you and the rest of the deceived Armstrongites find your way!

BB

Lao Li 08/26/2007 10:18 PM

My last posting… promise…

The winding down of this site was noted with apparent glee by Dr T, who to me implied sic semper infidelis. Au contraire, I found this to be a very balanced and temperately moderated site. On other sites, the moderator beat me to a jellied pulp at the sniff of my appearing positive about anything that eminated from a COG. As I may have said already, this site is open, COG-related discussion; most of the “correction” I’ve received has been empirical rather than imperial.

FWIW, at my remote roost in Manchuria, I encountered students from a remnant Sabbatarian community. Their little congregation was perhaps the work of a (COGspeak) Sardis-era missionary, with whom their ancestors would have lost touch two or so revolutions ago. What a coincidence to be the first westerner ever encountered since then… Their first question was about the Sabbath being on Saturday, as in China the first day of the week is Monday…

Jared Olar 08/27/2007 10:27 PM

Yeah, I fliggered Bob Thiel would be sure to comment on G’s announcement. He says:

I thought that G was planning on phasing his anti-COG site out. I have long thought that those who are against the COGs would realize the truth, as in the last two sentences that he wrote above.

He means G’s comments, “Until recently, I spent time looking at, analyzing, and even mocking the beliefs and actions of a group of people I no longer have anything in common with. Recent developments in my life now make that a less-than-ideal way to spend my free time.”

But as usual Bob doesn’t see things correctly. If G were among “those who are against the COGs,” then he’d be motivated to continue this project. But he’s not “against the COGs.” He’s just in favor of things that are more important and necessary to life and happiness than the COGs have ever been or will ever be.

Then Bob says:

On the other hand, there are those of us who ARE COMMITTED to learning, growing in grace and knowledge, trying to get the good news of the Kingdom of God to the world, and wish to be part of the Church of God. So, the COGwriter site has no intentions of shutting down.

Oh goody. We were so worried that the Cooge Writer was going to shut down.

But since Bob is committed to learning, growing in grace and knowledge, trying to get the good news of the Kingdom of God to the world, and wishing to be part of the Church of God, that means there’s still hope that he’ll eventually see the light and leave the COOGEs behind.

Not that we’re holding our breath or anything . . . .

Lao Li 08/29/2007 06:32 AM

can’t resist… must respond…

Once during an episode of Batman, an Australian friend generalized that Americans overuse the prefix anti. Did you ever notice (like Seinfeld, perhaps) that Dr T usually puts in the anti when mentioning COG criticism or another COG that has a doctrine that doesn’t match with one of the LCG? Yet the comments appear fairly warming when it is noticed that some non-COG group has a doctrine that shows some similarity? The similarity should be no surprise, as it has been widely stated that HWA was revealled those doctrines when reading their literature… or the works of Allen, or Rupert, or Adolph…

Someone, somewhere posted that Bob’s site is not really different from this one; the difference is that when making comparisons, his metric is the LCG, and ours is reality.

Okay, resistance was futile. My last post, I promise…

See you next year in Beijing.

I’ll go help my Sardis students with their English…

Buffalo 08/29/2007 10:55 PM

G Scott wrote,

”[with]ill wishes to none”

Well, that’s great. What brought about the conversion?

Jared Olar 08/30/2007 10:06 AM

What brought about the conversion?

And what will bring about yours, Mr. Snark?

Buffalo 08/30/2007 04:08 PM

Ah, Mr Olar, by engaging in name-calling you prove my point while trying to make one of your own. Thanks. That means I need say no more.

Heather Ramsdell 08/30/2007 07:33 PM

Please get off MR. Pack’s back. Leave the Apostle alone.

Dr S 08/30/2007 08:26 PM

Please get off Mr. Pack’s back

Clever! Back. Pack.

Back! Back!

Do not attack the back of Pack!

I’ve heard that before. Do all you guys plagiarize?

Now to think up something to honor Olar the Scholar.

Jared Olar 08/31/2007 12:03 AM

Ah, Mr Olar, by engaging in name-calling you prove my point while trying to make one of your own.

My snarkily observing that your comment is snarky proves your allegation that G Scott has ill will toward . . . somebody? Oooookay.

Thanks. That means I need say no more.

Indeed, it doesn’t appear that you needed to say anything at all.

Byker Bob 08/31/2007 09:24 PM

I can’t believe that the zombies have finally gotten up the courage to attack just because G has stated that xCG has become a spent force.

What a bunch of tail gunners, just like their idol AMR.

BB

Stinger 08/31/2007 10:11 PM

It’s good to see you going out on top, G.

So don’t let the religious bastards and other assorted spiritual clowns & bible freaks get you down. You’ve done a great work in exposing Armstrongism and the stupid self-righteousness that it breeds in these Pharisee clones that have that big A stamped on their foreheads (and their own little black book tucked away somewhere).

Best2U,
— Stinger

Heather Ramsdell 09/01/2007 10:09 PM

“Don’t let the religious bastards and other assorted spiritual clowns & bible freaks get you down”.

Venom spued from a moron. Leave Mr. Pack alone. Idiots

Dr S 09/01/2007 10:45 PM

Ms Ramsdell

Remember the prime directive: avoid ad hominem arguments

We only comment on what is said. Take it as brutally frank feedback.

“Feedback is the breakfast of champions” — Denis Waitley

Besides, Mr Pack loves it! He believes it’s persecution, one of his proofs that he is on the right track! (From one of his World to Come “broadcasts”.)

Jared Olar 09/02/2007 09:26 AM

Heather, how do you know David Pack is “the Apostle”? Did he receive laying on of hands from Jesus? Did Jesus tell him, “Feed my sheep”? Has his shadow healed the lame or the sick? Has he raised the dead?

What is it exactly, apart from David Pack’s say-so, that makes him “the Apostle”?

Big Red 09/02/2007 04:28 PM

G is doing the right thing. Raising a child is the hardest, most rewarding job a person can know.

I want to address some comments to Frenchie, Buffalo, Heather, AMR and the like.

First, the comment about you being tail gunners is true. You hear the website is discontinued, so you want to toss in some venal cheap shots at the very last moment. Doesn’t sound very Christian to me.

I don’t have the same antagonism towards Armstrong as some do. My experience in the old WCG was generally positive. I know that some people did get burned, however. I saw it happen.

During a FOT, Mr Armstrong said “so many of you people don’t get it.” Then he added “a lot of you ministers don’t get it.” That comment hit my brain like a thunder bolt.

After that comment, I stopped kissing the minister’s foot. I stopped looking for assurance from other people.

So many people were burned by bad pastors. So many people were burned by the people around them. Like Jonathon Livinston Seagull, I became free of that stuff. Thank you Mr Armstrong!

Heather? You want to call people morons and idiots? Then you still don’t get it! You’re still “in the flesh.”

Where were you when God created the universe? Where were you when God created life on this earth? Can you set the sun or moon in its orbit?

Yet you feel free to pronounce judgements on people that you’ve never met? Whom are you to presume such things? You better look at your own life, and take care of your own sins.

And the same goes for Bob Thiel. He thinks highly of himself, but he’s going to face a big surprise.

Dr S 09/02/2007 09:13 PM

Well said, Big Red!

There’re so many splinters, with so much to hide —
When we assess, they return and deride.

With AMR and Heather, with us their beef
Is that we choose not to hail to their chief.

That said, Big Red,
it’s time to go to sleep…


The comments show the nature of the web site, indeed all sites: topic X soon morphs to topic Y in the comment section. One post, in fact, had well over a hundred comments that were mostly about something entirely different. Still, there they are, the comments that still bring a smile when I consider them:

  • your site certainly helped me when i transitioned out of the cog world a couple years ago
  • Thanks for being instrumental in our exodus from an (x)CoG G.
  • Thanks so much G. Your site played a very important role in helping me exit the cult, and in convincing me that suicide was not the best path.
    You and Gavin[, author of a similar site,] literally saved my life.

All those hours of work for three comments? To help three people? One could of course make the argument that only three people replied but that perhaps many more felt the same way.

The Churches of God–A Sociological Examination

Herbert W. Armstrong

Since the doctrinal changes in the Worldwide Church of God (WCG hereafter) in the 1980s and 1990s and its subsequent division into the numerous “splinter groups,” there has not been much genuine communication between those who stayed (whom in this essay I will call “assenters,” for they give their assent to the new doctrines) and those who left (whom I will call “dissenters,” for they withhold their assent to the new doctrines).[1] When there is communication, it can generally be described as nothing less than a hateful argument, of which both assenters and dissenters are guilty. Assenters declare that dissenters are not really examining scripture “objectively” (a term which I will deal with shortly), indicating that accepting the WCG’s new doctrines is simply a matter of logic; dissenters declare that assenters are betraying everything they were taught under Herbert Armstrong and that they are hopelessly deceived by Satan. With such divergent presuppositions held firmly, assenters and dissenters often verbally bash each other over the head until one or the other (or both) realizes the futility of the “discourse,” and then communication ceases altogether.

At a WCG-related web site, John Bowers explains this lack of communication this lack of communication in, “Why Christians Hate.” He claims it is simply because of fear: “To be a member of an unpopular religious cult, such as the Worldwide Church of God, is to live in fear.” To some degree, I feel Bowers was on track in this assessment, but it doesn’t go deep enough. It offers a somewhat superficial explanation as to why members of sectarian cults “fear.” The purpose of this essay is to use sociology (specifically sociology of knowledge) to locate a little more precisely the source of this “fear” in Bowers’ essay and to a lesser degree.

The World through Sociology’s Eyes

From the moment of our birth, the world is mediated to us. Usually this is done by our parents, whose job it is to teach us “the ways of the world.” This involves teaching us very simple, physical things, like the fact that touching a hot stove is a bad idea. We could, of course, figure these simple things out for ourselves, and very often we do. That is how we learn to walk, for example.

Yet our parents’ responsibility doesn’t stop with teaching us to keep our fingers away form hot stoves and out of electrical outlets. It also involves teaching us things that we wouldn’t be able to figure out for ourselves – at least not immediately. For example, it is from our parents that we learn our ethnic and national heritage. The average 18-month-old French girl has no idea that she is a French girl. Indeed, she probably has no idea what France is at that point. If she’s born into a Catholic family, she also has no idea what Catholicism is. Nor would she easily figure these things out on her own. Instead, her parents explain these things to her – things that later in her life will appear as normal, everyday reality.

Our parents introduce us to a very specific world that has many facets: social standing, race, religious orientation, ethnicity, etc. As our parents expose us to these aspects of their world, we come to accept it as our world too. In short, our parents define reality for us as we are growing up. This is called socialization, or more specific, primary socialization.

The things we learn in primary socialization are the things that later we take for granted as “everyday knowledge.” They form the basis of what we think “normal” people do. The end result is that within a given culture where certain groups of people undergo a very similar primary socialization process, these people define reality in almost identical ways.

Rules of etiquette provide a good example of this: In the Western world we generally do not slurp our soup, flatulate in a crowded train, make rude comments about our boss’s hair, urinate in a public park, or any number of things, all because we have been taught not to – most often by our parents. The things described above are the “basics” of polite behavior – they constitute the foundation of how everyone knows they should behave.

Yet in and of themselves, these basics that “everyone knows” are arbitrary. Nothing physical will happen to us if we break taboo and do any of the preceding things things. We won’t die if we slurp our soup, or relieve ourselves in the middle of Central Park. We will, however, get glares at the dinner table for our noisy soup eating or be carted off by the police if we duck behind a tree in Central Park.

Thus is the world into which we are born. The rights and the wrongs have already been decided, even though in most cases the decisions made are, from a purely biological point of view, arbitrary. They are not based on universal human needs (like eating or sleeping) and as such they are open to a wide range of interpretation. This fact is most vividly illustrated when you go to a foreign country and find a man standing against a wall in broad daylight, his back to the street, urinating – for all to see. Clearly, you and the man relieving himself define reality in a different manner. Indeed, you define reality in a way different from the man urinating and all the other people walking by him without so much as a second glance. For you it is decidedly disgusting and unnatural; for them, it’s the norm.

The “norm” we receive from our parents during primary socialization is initially not in competition with any other definitions, and we come accept our parents’ reality as reality in its totality. For example, a child raised by Muslim parents in a Muslim community will initially assume that the entire world is Muslim. It’s possible to imagine a grown man who clings to this definition of reality as normative throughout his life. How would such a feat be possible? Simple. If he never encounters anyone who is not Muslim, he will never have any reason to doubt that the entire world is Muslim. However, given the proliferation of mass communication and the ease of contemporary travel, he probably will encounter someone (via television or tourism) who is not a Muslim, and this encounter will constitute a competing claim about the nature of reality.

In a pluralistic society such as America, such primary socialization that excludes all other definitions of reality is simply impossible. We usually become aware of different points of view at a fairly early age, but such alternative points of view can be easily dismissed as “different” or even “abnormal.” Our parents at first do this dismissing. For example, when we’re traveling to Florida for vacation and we encounter a group of punks at a rest area, our father mutters derisively, “Freaks.” We incorporate this into our own worldview and for us, as 5-year-old children, these individuals become “freaks” as well. We don’t question whether our father is right or wrong in his assessment – we simply accept it. He was correct when he taught us “right” and “left” and how to tie our shoes – why wouldn’t he be right here as well? This points out the simple fact that to the extent that our parents are our primary mediators to the world around us for our entire early childhood, they are infallible.

It is from such encounters with people who define reality differently that the “us-them” view of the world comes into play. While this paradigm is often (and rightly) criticized as being “narrow-minded,” it is unavoidable in a sense. As long as there are cultures that define reality different, these different views will have to be sensibly incorporated into our own worldview. As seen above, in can be done in a somewhat flippant manner, writing off the legitimacy of a whole worldview with a pshaw and flick of the wrist.

There are other ways to deal with differing worldviews, though, that don’t amount to an ideological annihilation. The father in the above example could have just as easily explained the punks’ spiked hair and leather in such a way that doesn’t completely debase them. He could have just explained that they’re different and left it at that.

However, there are some things about which even the most liberal-minded and socially tolerant parent will make will have make normative. Incest, for example, is a fairly universal taboo[2] and even those who are willing to accept punks or bikers will be unwilling to condone incest – or murder, stealing, or any number of semi-universal norms.

Primary socialization, then, simply involves our acceptance as children of certain subjective ideas as being objectively true. As a sort of negative example, imagine the following: as a cruel experiment, parents decide to teach their child that everything is the opposite of what it “actually” is. So they teach this child that “up” is “down,” “blue” is “green,” “left” is “right,” and so on. On what basis will this child initially know that her parents are lying to her? Initially, none. Only when she begins interacting with others and makes a comment about how blue the grass is and sees their reactions will she be able to understand that her reality is different than everyone else’s.

We might even ask, “On what basis are the parent lying to the child?” When we encounter this child calling the sky green and the grass blue, on what authority to we exclaim, “Why, you’ve got it wrong – exactly opposite, in fact!” In other words, why is blue blue? Because some omnipotent force decreed that light within a certain range of wavelengths will be called blue? Perhaps, but we have no evidence of that. From our point of view we must accept that blue is blue because that’s how speakers of English define that particular wavelength of color.[3]

All if this is simply to say that reality is a construction. It is something we learn from our parents, who learned it from their parents, who learned it from theirs – ad infinitum. And what’s more, this reality we learn from our parents is all encompassing. It is not simply a matter of colors and direction – it is a matter of what it means to be a good father, or how a man behaves and how a woman behaves, and so on.

To put it bluntly, the things we think of as “objective” really aren’t. Certain things are given objective status simply because everyone around us agrees that they have objective status. Nothing comes from an infallible fount of wisdom; everything we know, we know things because someone else told us – in the case of primary socialization, that someone is our parents. And the simple fact is, they could have just as easily socialized us in any number of ways. The reason they did as they did is simply because that was how they were socialized.

There are many different ways for parents to define reality to their children. What it means to be a man or a woman, for example, is a product of primary socialization and it differs greatly from culture to culture. In Western society, for instance, hand-holding has romantic and even sexual connotations in our society, and we learn these connotations during primary socialization. We also learn (generally speaking) that such romantic connections should not exist between two men. Therefore, it is culturally wrong for two men to hold hands in our society, unless of course they are lovers and are bold enough to show their affection in public. However, in other cultures, hand-holding is not a sign of romantic or sexual attraction, and while homosexuality might be generally socially condemned in that country just as it is in our own, two men holding hands doesn’t even get a second glance. Why? Because just in our society we “know” that hand-holding is a sign of romantic involvement, members of other cultures “know” that hand-holding is a symbol of intimacy and closeness but not sexuality. These two cultures might agree on the point that “men shouldn’t have sexual attractions for other men,” but still disagree on whether or not it is acceptable for me to hold hands as the stroll. Therefore, to be a man means slightly different things in these cultures.

Of course we can push this even further by pointing out that this notion of homosexuality being acceptable or not is something we learn during our primary socialization. From a biological point of view, the only drawback to homosexuality is its inability to produce offspring.[4] The fact that our culture defines reality in such a way that homosexuality is deemed offensive makes more of a statement about our culture than it does about homosexuality.

Not all of our knowledge comes from our parents and peers, though. Some of it comes from teachers, ministers, and counselors and constitutes secondary socialization. While similar in many ways to primary socialization, though, secondary socialization is much more fluid. Both teach us particular realities and provide knowledge about the world around us, but they do so in different ways and to different ends.

While the “knowledge” we learn during primary socialization is general – the taken-for-granted information that everyone in our culture accepts – what we learn in secondary socialization is much more specific. In addition, knowledge from secondary socialization tends to be less objective from a cultural point of view.

One of the things we learn in secondary socialization is how to perform the actions required of us by our jobs. If one is a chemist, these are the things one learned during many hours in the chemistry classroom and lab in college. If one is a garbage collector, these are the things one learned from the “old hands” at work. It doesn’t take long to realize that this knowledge is considered subjective. Not everyone agrees one the best way to keep warm while collecting garbage during the winter, and not everyone agrees on the best way to explain the behavior of certain chemicals under certain conditions. These are “matters of opinion,” we like to say.

It’s also clear from these examples that secondary socialization is much more specific – it is connected to roles that not everyone plays. Not everyone is a chemist, and so not everyone can even begin to explain why chemical x acts this way at time y. And since only a very few of us have collected garbage (in the summer or winter), we won’t all be able to keep warm simply because we’ve never been taught how.

Plausibility

Up to this point we have dealt with two kinds of knowledge – that which “everyone knows” (given to us through primary socialization) and that which a few people know (from secondary socialization). What both these kinds of knowledge have in common, though, is their source: they both come from other people. Other people not only are responsible for giving us knowledge; they are also responsible for making it possible to accept this knowledge as knowledge and not opinion. In short, the reason we can continue to believe most of the things we learned in primary socialization and secondary socialization is that people around us make us feel it is reasonable to believe. The fact that they believe something makes it easier for us to believe it; their belief in it makes the belief itself more plausible.

For example, the reason it is difficult in our modern Western society to hold that sticking pins in a doll will have an affect on a given person is in part because no one else believes it. If we do go around talking about voodoo dolls as if they were as effective as two aspirin, we would be labeled a lunatic, or at the very least, strangely out of touch with reality. If we were plopped down in the middle of a community where voodoo is plausible, we would have quite another situation on our hands. In fact, our insistence that voodoo is nothing but rubbish would have the same effect in this culture as our insistence on voodoo’s efficacy would have in our modern Western culture. In either case, we would constitute a cognitive minority – a group of people (or a single person in this case) who believe something radically different than what the majority of people believe.

If we are a cognitive minority, we have two alternatives. We can sell-out, so to say, and accept the definition of reality of the cognitive majority. If we decide not to sell out but to hold fast to the truth as we see it, we face an uphill battle. To everyone else’s “Yes!” we will always be saying, “No!” Everyone else’s black will be our white. To keep this up indefinitely will be exhausting unless we get some support. As long as someone else is saying, “That’s okay – I believe what you believe and I don’t think you’re a lunatic for doing so,” it will be more bearable to be the cognitive minority. What will happen, then, is we will find that we spend more time with those who believe as we do (after all, we can relax and stop justifying our beliefs to them) than with those who think we’re somewhat off our rockers for our crazy views. Put differently, we eventually will create for ourselves a community that serves to make the reality we take for granted seem more plausible. In doing so, we will implement what sociologists refer to as plausibility structures.

Plausibility structures help determine what is believable and what is not. The more support an idea gets from those around us, the easier it is to believe. In yet simpler terms, it is easier to be a Catholic in Rome than in Mecca. Peter Berger expresses it thus: “The strength of [an idea’s plausibility], ranging from unquestioned certitude through firm probability to mere opinion, will be directly dependent upon the strength of the supporting structure” (A Rumor of Angels, 40).

It is now time to return to John Bowers’ comment, “To be a member of an unpopular religious cult, such as the Worldwide Church of God, is to live in fear.” This really is an empty statement because we all live in a certain fear that the world constructed around us – the world into which we have been socialized and accept as “normal” – will turn out to be contrary to fact. A lie, to be blunt. To return to an earlier image, we’re always a little worried when we sit down at the table that those around us will begin slurping their soup as if it’s just the most natural thing in the world to do.[5]

We have all sorts of mechanisms – from psychotherapy to Mass – that ensure that we keep this fear under control, so much so that it’s almost unconscious. If it were not for these mechanisms, in fact, we would be unable to operate “normally” in our daily lives. Indeed, it is rare that someone is so overcome with the fear that the world she sees around her is somehow “wrong.” Such individuals are usually considered prime candidates for a psychiatrist’s couch – or, if radically different enough, for a straight jacket. This is because we’ve been “shown” (i.e., taught) – and we’ve accepted – the world around us as somehow corresponding to some normative “truth,” and the fact that everyone else around us behaves as if it’s true reassures us. Cars stop at red lights because we drivers have agreed to halt our cars at red lights and because it was somehow ordained at the beginning of time that such should be the case. People don’t slurp their soup because that’s how it’s always been done and it was ordained from the beginning that such should be the case. Or so it feels to us on a normal, everyday basis.

So to a degree, I take issue with Bower’s statement. We’re all a little frightened that what we believe to be reality is not reality. Proof of this is easily found in that disturbing limbo we inhabit immediately after waking up from a bizarre dream. For a moment the ontological status of the dream is unclear, and we’re just a little worried that the dream might be reality and vice versa. This last only for a few moments, however, and as the fog of sleep lifts, we see clearly that it was just a dream–and we are reassured.

Roles and Our Ever-Changing Biography

A convenient way to think about reality through the eyes of sociology is through roles. We all have particular roles we play, and each of these different roles – mother, lawyer, aunt, and sister – comes with built-in cultural expectations. A good aunt if is someone whose behavior conforms to the general cultural expectations of the role of “aunt.”

Some of the roles are defined by primary socialization, such as “mother” or “uncle” while others are delineated during secondary socialization, such as “professor” or “colonel.” Generally these roles coexist rather peacefully so that we have an “office self” that is not radically different from our “home self.” If there is a great deal of difference between these two roles, though, one or the other will have to give. Which one actually does give will depend on which one is more important, which in turn depends on any number of cultural and personal factors. To add to the confusion, a choice we make today to subsume a professional role (perhaps “lawyer”) to a personal role (maybe “mother”) because family life is deteriorating might have been drastically different five years ago when, say, there was rumors that one might be promoted to partner in the law firm.

Peter Berger points out one intriguing aspect of all this role-playing that makes up our lives: our biographies are in fact largely influenced by the various roles we play in our lives. Berger discusses this at length in Invitation to Sociology and it will be helpful here to outline his ideas in this regard.

Most of us like to think that the act of writing our autobiographies would be a fairly simple act. After all, we would simply need to record in chronological fashion a description of what we did in our lives. I was born on this date; I went to this school; I married this person; I had these children; I worked at these places. Yet we obviously can’t include everything in our autobiography, else it would be thousands of pages long. Therefore we have to select some things to include and others to leave out. How do we do this? Simple – it depends on what is important to us at the time of our writing. But here is the interesting catch: were we to write this at a different time – earlier or later – different parts of our lives would stand out as more important than they would now. More abstractly, our autobiography is an interpretation of our lives, not purely a description. What we see as important in our past depends on what is important in our present. Not only that, but we can re-interpret portions of our lives, giving them drastically different meanings than whatever meaning we attached to the moment as we were living it, or at some other point in our lives.

For example, imagine a woman who, after attending rallies and reading books, becomes a Communist. Her life to that point will need to be re-interpreted. What was once a happy, fiscally secure middle-class life will be viewed as an empty, bourgeois false consciousness. A Catholic convert might come to see a series of personal misfortunes as events God was using to bring him into the Mother Church.

It becomes clear, then, that such biographical reinterpretation is critical when one role conflicts with an earlier role. Some kind of explanation must be provided as to how the same individual could have been two seemingly different people, ideologically speaking. To do this, we reinterpret our biography.

Religion and Conversion

One of the most significant acts of secondary socialization is religious conversion. When one converts from one religion to another, it means altering how one defines reality, and very often, accepting one set of religious beliefs involves denying the set of religious beliefs we received from our parents. This type of secondary socialization can be more radical than any another because it often involves drastic changes in how we live our lives, how we explain the world around us, how we interpret our past, and so on.

In a sense, religious conversion is similar to primary socialization. Indeed, one might say it is a second primary socialization since “true” religious conversion results in a complete change of one’s course of life.[6] The primary difference is that this “second” primary socialization within religious conversion does not create a reality ex nihilo (“from nothing”) as one’s true primary socialization did many years earlier. We are not learning and interpreting reality; we are re-learning and re-interpreting reality.

Since it doesn’t create reality ex nihilo necessitates, conversion is one of the biggest stimuli for reconstituting one’s personal biography. That which transpired before conversion must be re-interpreted in order to maintain consistency with one’s current standards.

Frequently this includes the retrojection into the past of present interpretative schemas (the formula for this being, “I already knew then, though in an unclear manner . . .”) and motives that were not present in the past but that are now necessary for the reinterpretation of what took place then (the formula being, “I really did this because . . .”).[7]

This “then-and-now” biography creates a certain internal “us-them” mentality. “Before conversion, I was among the blind; now I can see.” One is no longer among “them,” the blind. Instead, one is among “us,” the enlightened.

Additionally, the conflicts that can arise between our pre-conversional selves and our post-conversional selves are not always easily resolved, and they can sometimes be destructive to relationships of our life that no longer conform to our new definition of reality. This radical new view of one’s past can, of course, necessitate a distance between the friends of the “former me” and the “new me.” This reality-twisting that we engage in when converting necessitates relationship-twisting that some relationships cannot bear. Something will have to give –our new interpretation of reality, our relationship, or both.

Sociology of Religion and the Churches of God

When we put all this together and use it as a tool of examination for the various Churches of God[8] it all seems to make sense – the distancing from non-members, the rigid instance on doctrinal purity and complete acquiescence, the virtual impossibility of assenter/dissenter friendships, etc. Indeed, one gets the uncanny feeling that authors writing general descriptions of sociology of knowledge and religion used the Churches of God as a model. And in fact, sociologists did just that, for the WCG and its sister churches are textbook examples (sometimes literally) of the processes described above.

To begin with, until the recent changes, members of the WCG had been a cognitive minority in the religious community in particular and in society in general. This was certainly not something the leadership and members of the WCG tried to deny. The knowledge Herbert Armstrong shared was special – esoteric knowledge available only to the select few that God has called out. It was not a source of shame. Indeed, the “cult” badge was worn with pride for many years, and still is by various splinter groups.

Armstrong would not even deny that the fact that WCG members constitute a cognitive minority was the reason it formed such a tight community in the local churches. The theological reasoning was simple: don’t be unequally yoked with nonbelievers.[9] The sociological reason for this, though, should now be obvious: since it’s easier to believe something when all your friends and acquaintances believe the same thing, it’s best to stay among one’s own kind. They back you up; they make belief in something plausible.

Herbert Armstrong certainly realized the importance of creating strong plausibility structures (though he never would have used such a term) and in essence, he created an alternative universe within the WCG. Armstrong’s WCG had its separate rules, regulations, and definitions of reality, and the individual churches served to provide social support for believers in time of “doubt.” This is not to say that WCG leaders or congregations nurtured people who had doubts, helping them find resolution to various problems. In fact, they often did quite the opposite and criticized fellow believers for their lack of faith. Instead what I am talking about here is plausibility support for a cognitive minority that the cognitive majority could describe as bizarre. Local congregations provided a community that made it easier to hold these beliefs that flew in the face of most other Christian theologies. Spouting off about the Great Tribulation on any street corner will immediately get one labeled, “Lunatic.” Doing so in the local COG congregation might possibly earn a promotion to deacon.

Sociology also helps explain why it was necessary to quarantine prospective members instead of inviting them to Sabbath services the next Saturday. Perspective members still hadn’t redefined their pre-Armstrongian biography and their new WCG socialization process had only begun. They still had in their heads alternative, “heretical” definitions of reality, and introduction of such an unsocialized element into the local congregation could lead others to adopt these heretical points of view.[10] More succinctly, the new member might re-socialize an established member or two if things are not handled carefully.[11]

It is clear now why Mr. Armstrong taught that sociology (among other “worldly” sciences) was to be avoided. When someone can explain anything from a non-theological point of view, it threatens the authority of those who explain the same thing from a theological point of view. Mr. Armstrong taught members to avoid close contact with people of “the world” because they were just that – the world, deceived by Satan and inherently dangerous from an ideological perspective. Members were called out, set apart, different in every way. This is the theological explanation. The sociological explanation is simply that associating with “the world” would tend to weaken rather than to support WCG members’ beliefs and the authority of Mr. Armstrong by providing alternatives to his explanations. Reading and studying sociology shows Armstrongian reality to be one of several alternative worldviews, and in such a fundamentalist sect such as the WCG, choice – heresy – is a dangerous thing. It also explains the mechanisms by which Armstrong tried to bracket out competing realities. It showed the man behind the curtain.  Again, not a good thing for a fundamentalist sect such as the WCG.

Armstrong and the other leaders of the WCG were of course aware of the various alternative definitions of reality swirling about outside the WCG, but in a sense they had nothing to worry about because they had mechanisms already in place to deal with them. Just as our father in an earlier example “nihiliated”[12] the punks’ worldview with the single word, “Freak,” so Armstrong nihiliated competing worldviews with a single word: Satan. The notion of worldwide satanic deception was convenient for two reasons. First, a different solution does not have to be proposed for each problematic worldview. All can be subsumed under the simple heading of “satanic deception.” Hinduism, Catholicism, Buddhism, Protestantism,[13] and even atheism all have the same flaw: Satan. Second, it helped highlight the lack of satanic deception in the WCG. In strengthened the us-them mentality by simultaneously pointing out their error and WCG’s correctness.[14]

The reinterpretation of one’s pre-conversional biography within the WCG also provided a nice way of setting members apart from the rest of the world, reinforcing the “us-them” mentality. “I was deceivedas the rest of the world is now!” And as pointed out earlier, this tends to force one to internalize the “us-them” view. In addition, the Armstrongian sorteriology provided a strong “us-them” mentality, with WCG members destined to be the leaders while the deceived world were to be subjects.

Whether or not Herbert Armstrong deliberately planned all of this is open to debate, but I for one think it is highly doubtful. While such a book could be written, there does not exist (to my knowledge) a monograph entitled How to Start a Sect.[15] Even to say that Armstrong envisioned a church approaching the scope of the WCG at its height seems to credit Armstrong with much more cunning than he actually possessed. It was all, to some degree, an accident. Armstrong was at the cliché right place at the right time with the right message that appealed to certain people. Once he gained a small following, the process of institutionalization followed its somewhat natural course and a sect formed.[16]

The Split

As the WCG’s initially slight theological changes became more pronounced in the late 1980s and the early 90s, the resulting splintering was hardly avoidable. There was initially an attempt to keep everyone together with assurances that “we can all live together in peace even if we have slightly different theological views.”[17] But as the scope of the changes broadened, expanding beyond make-up and healing, this became increasingly unrealistic for a simple reason: the local church communities, which, once united in a common belief, had served as plausibility structures, no longer provided this sociological necessity for everyone. People became “unequally yoked.”

Not only did individuals’ worldviews cease to support each other but as the changes dug deeper into the fundamentals of Armstrongian theology, individuals’ worldviews began to contradict each other. No institution can survive very long when members hold conflicting views, and so the divisions became not only theologically but also sociologically and psychologically necessary.

This is also the reason assenters and dissenters are hard-pressed to sustain meaningful relationships – their definitions of reality challenge each other. To remain in contact with those who no longer share the same beliefs would produce threats to one’s own worldview. Those for whom common religious beliefs were the defining aspect of their relationship could not long remain close friends with those who no longer share the common beliefs because of a lack of mutual support. If, however, there were other bonds in the relationship – either familial bonds, or perhaps even a strong personal friendship – the relationship might continue, but it’s doubtful that religion will be a frequent topic of conversation.

The Current, Post-Armstrongian WCG Reality

Where does all this leave the WCG today, almost fifteen years after Herbert Armstrong’s death? The future of this church is now questionable and those who were unable to acquiesce to the new teachings (the dissenters, as I originally named them) have formed many churches, which have themselves split (sometimes many times over). Armstrong’s once-great empire is now a fragmented mass of various churches with significant numbers attending no church at all. What are the implications of all this?

Both assenters and dissenters have had to re-think their definitions of reality. No one predicted such a cataclysmic event as what happened in the late 80s and early 90s. No one was prepared, ideologically speaking. Suddenly, a huge event had to be explained from worldviews that were not equipped to do so. An Armstrongian worldview could explain lots of things – why everyone looks at you like a freak when you talk about the Place of Safety, why Europe was moving toward increasing unity – but it couldn’t explain this. It couldn’t make sense of how so many people could turn their backs on the truth delivered through Mr. Armstrong; or, conversely, how so many people could fail to see the mistakes in Armstrong’s theology once they had been pointed out and prayerfully studied.

For each group this had somewhat different consequences. The dissenters had to come up with a way of explaining how God could allow so many “true Christians” to be deceived. Gerald Flurry, of the Philadelphia Church of God (PCG), uses 2 Thessalonians 2.10—11[18] as an explanation, explaining that God is separating the true Christian minority from the deceived WCG majority by sending a “strong delusion.”[19] Other splinter groups explain it in a variety of ways, but most of them deal involve the idea of Satanic deception in one way or another. From the point of view of the dissenters, the assenters have now joined the ranks of the “deceived,” and as such the assenters’ new worldviews have long been nihiliated.

In a way, the predicament of the assenters is more interesting. To some degree those who accepted the new teachings have had to go through yet another socialization process when they came to accept once again the ideas they’d rejected upon conversion to Armstrongian theology. When they joined the WCG, they had to re-evaluate many of the simple facts of their lives, like what it means to be a Christian, what humanity’s potential and destiny are, etc. They had to reject “the world’s ideas” and accept Armstrong’s ideas. Once the changes were made, they essentially rejected Armstrong’s ideas and returned to “the world’s ideas.”

Not only that, but the assenters had to reformulate their worldviews in such a way that could account for the massive number of people who abandoned Armstrong’s teachings. This could be a particularly traumatic experience for some if they come to the conclusion that the reason their friends went with one of the other Churches of God was because their friends were (and are) still in the grip of cultic control. And that, by default, means they themselves were “in the grip of cultic control” – not something one likes to admit to oneself. Such a drastic explanation is not inevitable, though. Another possibility is to say that those who remain with Armstrongian Churches of God do so because they fulfill some basic need in their lives – a need they themselves once fulfilled with Armstrongian theology but now fill with “the grace of Christ.”

Whatever the explanation, one thing is certain – all involved must make some attempt to explain how such drastic changes occurred and further, to explain why John Doe assented to the changes while Susan Jones didn’t. Not to do so would be to leave a huge section of one’s life an enormous question mark – and that’s something very few people can live with.

Notes


[1] I do not mean “dissenter” to be a pejorative word, certainly not in the sense that it was used in the WCG (and is still used in other organizations) as grounds for disfellowshipment. Additionally, I am not implying that they are dissenting from a universal norm. In as much as the WCG’s doctrinal authority was once the norm for them, they are “dissenters.” Still, I am hesitant to use these words for they create an unavoidable polarity that I would actually like to avoid. Indeed, it is simply a matter of perspective: The “dissenters” could have just as easily been called “assenters” since they continue to subscribe to and support Armstrongian theology.

Further, I do not wish to describe them as “Tkach-ites” and “Armstrong-ites” for several reasons. To begin with, it’s grammatically clumsy and it sounds ridiculous. More importantly, the term “Armstrongites” has already been used and it is always used in a pejorative manner, something I hope to avoid like the cliché plague in this essay.

[2] This is true even in ancient Egypt when the pharaoh married his own sister. The difference lies in how various cultures define incest. What is incest in our culture is not in others, and vice versa.

[3] This illustrates that one of the most important aspects of primary socialization and one of the most subjective is language. While it is a fascinating topic, it is not a diversion I will make in this essay.

[4] One might point to sexually transmitted diseases as an example of another biological drawback, but this argument is rendered ineffective by the fact that no sexually transmitted disease is transmitted exclusively through homosexual encounters. Thus sexually transmitted diseases might be seen as a biological drawback to promiscuity, whether homo- or heterosexual.

[5]The fact that it is not natural is because of our primary socialization. There are a great many things that we are socialized into believing are not “natural” when in fact “nature” tells us nothing about these things.

[6] The apostle Paul in the New Testament speaks of conversion in terms that underscore this: “When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways“ (1Cor 13.11).

[7] Peter Berger, The Social Construction of Reality, 160

[8] Worldwide, Philadelphia, International, Living, Global, United, etc.

[9] “Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?” King James Version – Armstrong’s preferred translation.

[10] It is useful to recall that “heresy” is derived from the Greek for “choice.”

[11] Gerald Flurry, leader of the Philadelphia Church of God, explains it thus: “God’s Church has the responsibility to PROTECT its members. WITH AN OPEN DOOR POLICY, THE WCG IS BEING DESTROYED SPIRITUALLY BY SATAN!” (Worldwide Church of God Doctrinal Changes and the Tragic Results, 74)

[12] The term is used in Peter Beger’s Invitation to Sociology.

[13] It has always amused me that Armstrong differentiated himself and his church from Protestants (using that term in a derogate fashion) while at the same time failing to realize that his church, by default, was itself Protestant. It was not Orthodox (Greek, Eastern, or Russian), Coptic, or Catholic, and the only other option (denominationally speaking) was Protestant.

[14] This simple dualistic view (us-them, Satan-vs-God, black-white) is common in fringe sects and fundamentalist denominations, and it serves as an easy way to deal with all competing worldviews. Not only did this dualism annihilate any possibility of an alternative reality having any validity, but it also strengthened the sense of inner-church community by fostering an “us-them” attitude.

[15] Some have labeled the WCG a “cult,” but from a sociological point of view, I would hold this is not quite correct. A cult by most sociological accounts is a new religion (such as UFO worship) whereas a sect is just a marginal interpretation of an established religion.

[16] For a more detailed discussion of the relationship between a charismatic leader and the subsequent formation of a religion, see Max Weber’s The Theory of Social and Economic Organization.

[17] I attended a WCG First Day of Unleavened Bread service in the early 90s at which the minister said, in effect, “If you think this is a holy and binding day, we welcome you. If you think this is not, we welcome you.” Such an attempt at tolerance was greeted with applause. Months later, though, the minister left the WCG for the United Church of God and many of the likeminded members, unable to survive in such a divided environment, followed.

[18] “And with all deceivableness of unrighteousness in them that perish; because they received not the love of the truth, that they might be saved. And for this cause God shall send them strong delusion, that they should believe a lie.” (The quote is from the King James Version, the preferred translation of the PCG.)

[19] This theological argument is questionable at best and creates certain negative connotations in the PCG explanation of God’s nature. For more on this see my “God as Represented in Malachi’s Message.”

The Sound and the Flurry

The Cultic Revelations of Malachi’s Message

Gerald Flurry

When the Worldwide Church of God began reevaluating doctrines, many people within the organization were suddenly faced with a decision they thought they would never have to make: stay, or go? For the most part, people stayed when Joseph Tkach Sr. began reevaluating and modifying certain church doctrines because in making these changes, Tkach was leaving the core doctrines (Sabbath attendance, tithing, the nature of God) intact. The first changes included a new position on the use of cosmetics, a new scripture to designate the church’s commission (Matt. 28.19, “Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” instead of Matt. 24.14, “And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.”), and the decision to seek accreditation for Ambassador College. Gradually, though, Tkach and the WCG leadership turned their attention to doctrines many considered indispensable, and eventually Gerald Flurry and others decided that the WCG, in changing its doctrines and dogmas, had turned its back on God and therefore it was no longer God’s church. Flurry immediately wrote Malachi’s Message to God’s Church Today, the centerpiece of all his writings and, with his followers, formed the Philadelphia Church of God.

Little time need be spent discussing Flurry’s actual argument. His thesis is not incredibly complex and can be summed up quite succinctly: Because we are nearing the end-time, it is necessary for God to separate the true Philadelphian minority from the Laodicean majority. He accomplishes this by sending a “strong delusion” (2 Thes. 2.10-11) in the form of deceived leadership. Converted Philadelphians will see this with the aid of divine revelation (read: Malachi’s Message), thereby escaping the Tribulation and receiving their eternal reward.

The interesting thing to look at when reading Malachi’s Message is not so much the prophetic rantings and ravings, interesting as they may be, but rather the implicit revelations Flurry makes about his personal theology and the PCG’s official teachings while arguing his case. Flurry also illustrates the sociological and theological mechanisms used by cult leaders to keep their “flocks” in submission. Lastly, a close examination of several passages reveals Flurry’s definition of God to be quite heterodox with some rather unnerving aspects to it.

Explanations

By and large, Flurry’s teachings are identical to those put forth by Herbert Armstrong, the Worldwide Chruch of God founder. Since many of Armstrong’s ideas are unlike anything found in mainstream Christianity and the terms and figures of speech he uses are found in traditional Christian articulations, a few explanatory comments might be helpful.

Herbert Armstrong’s Lingering Influence

From the beginning, Flurry illustrates that this book is intended for those steeped in Armstrongian theology. This is obvious enough when we remember the full title of the book, Malachi’s Message to God’s Church Today. However, this sense is strenghtend by the fact that Flurry expects his readers to grant him several basic assumptions which are based on WCG theology. Remarking that several churches have left the WCG in recent years, Flurry argues, “Your Bible says only one of these groups can be doing God’s work” (x). The idea that God is working with only one group of people during these “end times” is a recurrent theme in both Armstrong’s work and Flurry’s own theology. That Flurry takes this as his starting point makes it clear that this book is designed to do one thing: encourage people to leave the fellowship of the WCG and join his own. To be sure, Flurry does not hide this agenda, and later in the book makes it perfectly clear that he sees the warning of God’s people as his calling. In fact, Flurry argues that Herbert Armstrong (hereafter referred to simply as HWA) “set a precedent for what the PCG is doing now” by writing to the members of the Sardis era and telling them “their Church was dead!” (149). However, Flurry provides no documentation for this, and an otherwise good point is compromised.

This assumption that all readers are thoroughly familiar with HWA’s teachings also manifests itself in the use of Armstrongian theological terms which would be completely incomprehensible to non-WCG members. Flurry tosses around “The Place of Safety,” “The Great Tribulation,” the “Laodicean Era” without defining them or proving them scripturally. They are given truths to be accepted from the beginning. you could go so far as to demonstrate your scholarship ? here and define them for the reader here.

Clearly Flurry feels that there is only one true church, and with so many to choose from, it’s critical to make the right decision, for “if you make a wrong choice, it is going to bring physical and spiritual curse. A right choice will lead to incredible physical and spiritual rewards.” The criterion Flurry initially gives for finding this church is not what most people would expect from a Christian church. Instead of saying that we must weigh carefully what these churches teach against what the Bible says, we must find the “one Church [which] truly follows in the footsteps of Mr. Armstrong” (x). This and this alone is the one true, pure Church of God. To be fair, Flurry does encourage his readers to prove scripturally his argument, but the initial criterion is whether or not the church follows Herbert Armstrong.

Additionally, it’s not enough according to Flurry simply to follow HWA’s teachings. It’s necessary to fellowship with this one true church: “We, as Christians, have the responsibility to be in that Church following Christ” (xiii). The implication is that being a member of the right church is necessary for salvation, not simply following Christ. Even if we keep all the Old Testament commandments (even the seemingly ridiculous ones about wearing clothes of two fabrics and destroying our houses when we can’t get rid of the mildew), it won’t be enough unless we’re in the right church (read: PCG).

The Philadelphia Church of God was formed because the Worldwide Church of God was not clinging to Herbert Armstrong’s doctrines. A logical place to begin an analysis of Malachi’s Message, therefore, is a consideration of how Flurry and the PCG view Armstrong and his teachings.

Flurry explains in the introduction how the WCG has gotten off track: “Why do the Laodiceans fail to see that Mr. Armstrong fulfilled all of these major end-time prophecies? Because their focus is too much on the man–not on God and his message!” (xi). Ironically enough, this serves as a perfect thesis when discussing the PCG’s view of Herbert Armstrong: The emphasis is clearly on what Herbert Armstrong taught and not on what the Bible actually states.

From his introduction onward, then, Flurry makes it clear that Herbert Armstrong’s teachings are of utmost importance. Flurry’s exaltation of HWA is, in fact, the most striking thing in the entire book. This manifests itself in several ways in Malachi’s Message.

The first thing one notices is the manner in which Flurry uses Armstrong’s writings as final authoritative proof concerning almost anything, something which is not surprising since the “true gospel ends with Mr. Armstrong” (130). Many times in Malachi’s Message, Flurry’s final recourse is simply, “Mr. Armstrong said . . . ” On one occasion, Flurry even writes that “Jesus Christ agreed with Mr. Armstrong” (91). One would think it should be the other way around, but to make that assumption is to forget that we are talking about a cult and not a healthy Christian church.

This trend really begins in the introduction when, discussing the “end-time . . . John the Baptist,” Flurry writes, “For years Mr. Armstrong said repeatedly that he fulfilled this office” (xi). No other evidence, scriptural or otherwise, is given that Armstrong did indeed fulfill this role. Yet, since Mr. Armstrong said it, it must be true. Flurry does the same thing when discussing HWA as the end-time Elijah (14) and later when trying to illustrate that HWA was the end-time Zerubbabel (59, 65, 131). In each instance, the fact that HWA said it is enough to establish it as fact.

The equating of Mr. Armstrong with Zerubbabel deserves some attention in itself. As stated before, Flurry really does little to prove this thesis other than the fact that HWA said it was true. Early in the book Flurry points out, “Zerubbabel died an old man. So did Mr. Armstrong” (3). If this is meant to be taken as evidence, it is a laughably weak attempt to prove this thesis. According to this logic, the following syllogism is true: “God thinks. Humans think as well. Therefore, humans are God.” The real “proof” seems to be in the idea that HWA created a new church just as Zerubbabel was responsible for a new temple. Following that logic, though, anyone who begins a new church would be a candidate for this “Zerubbabel,” including Luther, Calvin, Smith, and Koresh (to name a few). Yet despite the fact that this is complete speculation, Flurry takes it as fact to the extent that on at least thirteen occasions he even equates HWA and Zerubbabel thus: “God says Zerubbabel (HWA) built the house with God’s Holy Spirit . . .” (61). This makes it possible to read all references to Zerubbabel as references to Armstrong.

Assigning scriptures to leaders (both religious and secular) is a favorite weapon in the Armstrongian interpretation arsenal. It is so much so that Flurry considers the WCG’s current reluctance to engage in this practice as one of its major doctrinal changes. (For more on this, see page twenty-six of Worldwide Church of God Doctrinal Changes and the Tragic Results.) Indeed, to interpret prophecy in the exacting detail that the WCG has historically done, it is necessary to assign Biblical passages to individuals, both contemporary and historic. When HWA applied names to world leaders examples? it is simply amusingly bad exegesis; when applied to you’re missing some words here HWA applied names to himself, it was not only poor Biblical interpretation but arrogance. Of course Flurry doesn’t see it this way, and names HWA as Elijah at least ten times and as John the Baptist twice, both in the same fashion as with Zerubbabel.

It’s ironic that while Flurry is perfectly willing to name HWA as certain Biblical figures, he seems reluctant to name Joseph Tkach Sr. specifically as someone from the Bible. To be sure, he hints (more than strongly) that Tkach is the less-than-ideal Joshua of Zech. 3.1-2 and “the man of sin” from 2 Thes. 2.4, but he never equates them in a “Joshua (Tkach)” manner as he did with HWA (90). (It’s interesting to note that Flurry gives two possible roles for Tkach, thereby doubling his chances of an accurate prophecy. There is a doctrinal reason for this, however, which we will explore in due course.) In addition, there is a disturbing comparison which implies that Mr. Tkach represents Judas and HWA, Christ (99), but there is no direct “Judas (Tkach)” comparison.

One major aspect of the Philadelphia Church of God’s mission is to keep the memory and teachings of Herbert Armstrong intact, untainted with accusations of personal immorality and un-Biblical doctrines.

It should, in theory, come as a surprise to discover in PCG’s theology any changes in what Herbert Armstrong wrote. In an older issue if the PCG’s magazine, the Philadelphia Trumpet, writer Dennis Leap asserts that the “Philadelphia Church of God is the only Church on earth that upholds all of the doctrines Mr. Armstrong established in the Church” (“Who Are Today’s Laodiceans?” Vol. 6, No. 8, pg. 27). If the Philadelphia Church of God follows all of Mr. Armstrong’s doctrines then there should be absolutely no changes to any doctrines or dogmas whatsoever. Doctrine for the Philadelphia Church of God should remain constant, never changing, always identical to the teachings of the Worldwide Church of God at the time of Mr. Armstrong’s death. Yet, in reality, the PCG has made several doctrinal “corrections” which, for all intents and purposes, amount to doctrinal changes.

To be sure, Flurry is not making these changes without any outside stimuli. Indeed, the very reason for his church’s existence necessitates certain changes and realignments within PCG theology. All of these changes are almost inevitable given the fact that the Worldwide Church of God has so radically changed its theology from an inward-looking, exclusive cult to an outward-looking, evangelical ministry. None of these things were prophesied to happen in quite they way that they did. Armstrong taught that there would be a lukewarm, Laodicean era which means?, but it seems doubtful that he ever imagined that this “Laodicean attitude” would be embraced by the WCG leaders and make it necessary for the “Philadelphian elect” to remove itself from the Laodicean majority. If anything, Armstrong indicated that the Laodicean’s would be the minority, and speaking from my personal understanding of the doctrines, I always believed that the Laodiceans would remove themselves from the Philadelphian majority and start a new church, not vice versa. Therefore, there is a need to update all prophecies concerning the end-time church eras and Flurry has, according to Dennis Leap (in the same article quoted above), received “new revelation [which] has corrected slightly some of what Mr. Armstrong taught prophetically concerning the Church.” So the key thing to look for is “slight corrections,” not major new teachings. However, change is change, and any “slight correction” invalidates the PCG’s claim to uphold “all of the doctrines Mr. Armstrong established in the Church.” (page number)

The most decisive change in Herbert Armstrong dogma stems directly from this Philadelphian-Laodicean relationship. As with most cults, the WCG used to love to look for significant numbers in the Bible and then, using a hodge-podge mixture of math and prophecy, figure out what these numbers mean ‘for us today.’ Concerning the alleged history of church eras in Revelation, the key number is 144,000. The WCG always taught that this is a reference to God’s chosen, the number of people who would be whisked off to Petra to be saved from the German savagery of the Third World War. any documentation? This also served as a gauge for how close we were to Christ’s second coming, for it was always implied that when church membership reached 144,000 baptized “firstfruits,” Armageddon and Christ’s subsequent return were very near at hand.

However, Flurry no longer teaches that the 144,000 represent Christ’s chosen, Philadelphian elect. Instead, he argues that the 144,000 represents the Laodiceans (43). He quotes an Ambassador College Correspondence Course from 1966 as saying, “They will be some of the modern-day descendants.”

Occasionally Flurry obscures the point that he is changing one of HWA’s doctrines by stating that “the Church” has taught such and such. Consider the following: “God’s Church has applied II Thessalonians 2.4 to the world for the most part. But it doesn’t apply to the world. There is tremendous biblical support to show it applies to God’s church” (79). While Flurry doesn’t say that Armstrong taught this, but there can be little question where this doctrine originated. Flurry is basically saying, “Herbert Armstrong taught this, but it’s not quite right. It’s close, but a little flawed.”

Is this a drastic change? In some ways, no. After all, it doesn’t involve a change in underlying assumptions and fundamental dogma. Specifically, it’s still an explicit and direct application of a prophecy to contemporary events, something quite in line with Armstrongian interpretation techniques. Flurry still teaches this is a prophecy which has a contemporary fulfillment. Since the WCG stopped looking at the Bible in such a fashion (one of the catalysts for the PCG’s formation), this is not a major change for the PCG, comparatively speaking. At the same time, it is not at all in line with what the PCG claims concerning their unwavering support of Armstrong’s doctrines. It is certainly an unqualified affirmation of his exegesis techniques, but not complete support of the doctrines themselves.seems a little redundant.

Flurry makes another slight “correction” concerning the curse of Mal 4.5-6: “This is a curse which means ‘utter destruction.’ In the past, this has been applied to the ‘utter destruction’ of the earth’s inhabitants. That is not what it means! The message of Malachi was not sent to the nation of Israel or the world. Primarily, the subject is God’s ministry” (119, 141). This is certainly not what Mr. Armstrong taught, but Flurry is careful not to acknowledge this and introduces the idea even more vaguely than the preceding example.

Surprisingly, Flurry does directly and bluntly say that HWA was wrong on one occasion. Referring to the fact that Armstrong felt he would be alive at the time of Christ’s return, Flurry says, “Mr. Armstrong didn’t live to see the end of this age as he thought he would. (So correct that little error in [The Book of Revelation Unveiled at Last].)” (110). Of course Flurry had little choice but candidly to admit that Mr. Armstrong was wrong in this case. He would look utterly foolish to try to argue that, ultimately, Mr. Armstrong was right even in this case. But doctrinal revision due to historical incompatibility is a far cry from the drastic changes within the WCG concerning prophecy. The leaders of the Worldwide Church of God had a choice concerning whether or not to disclaim Armstrongism and embrace evangelical Christianity; Flurry had no such choice in this case.

Flurry has also made slight changes in the Church’s “God-given” commission. He writes, “The major work now is getting the message of Malachi to the Laodicean Church. The Gospel has been preached. The Laodiceans must now be warned!” (133). In Worldwide Church of God Doctrinal Changes Flurry goes to great lengths to point out that the WCG has changed its commission from Matt. 24.14 to Matt. 28.19-20 (114-117), but neither verse mentions anything about warning the Laodiceans. Clearly this is a change in the primary directive (read: commission) of the Church, but it doesn’t seem to bother Flurry in the slightest. (Later still Flurry claims that Mr. Armstrong himself changed the commission and said that the primary thing now is to “get the Church ready” (137), yet he provides no documentation of this claim.)

The last change that Flurry has made in HWA’s teachings which we will consider concerns the Bible’s final warning to the people of the end-time, Flurry now states that, “The greatest warning in the end is given to God’s people–not the world” (103). Armstrong never said anything like this (to my knowledge). Indeed, he was quite often decrying the horrible condition of the world and making it known that he was God’s chosen to give the pathetic, deceived wretches of the world their final warning. Flurry, however, feels now that Mr. Armstrong wasn’t quite right concerning to whom the Bible gives the strongest warning (though of course Flurry doesn’t say it in so many words). While this is technically not a change of doctrine, it’s a slight shift of emphasis in what HWA taught.

Of course this final warning is contained in Malachi’s Message and is simple: God prophesied all this to happen, and showed the consequences of not heeding this warning. But this thesis begs the question: Why, with his prophetic acumen, didn’t Herbert Armstrong see these prophecies? He made very specific claims about Germany rising again to initiate the Third World War; he made quite detailed assertions about what would happen to God’s elect during the Great Tribulation. Why, with all his clairvoyance, wasn’t Mr. Armstrong able to see what Flurry now understands so clearly? The answer is simple: Armstrong did not have the privilege of hindsight that Flurry now has. In other words, this is a prime example of what I’ll call retroactive prophecy, a topic we’ll return to in a bit.

It is not surprising, given the preeminence accorded Mr. Armstrong and his teachings, that Flurry is gradually adapting his leadership style to a manner more befitting to someone claiming, for all intents and purposes, to be Armstrong’s true successor. Flurry gives several indications that he learned well from Herbert Armstrong how to lead a cult and has incorporated several Armstrongian techniques into his methods.

Early in the book Flurry makes a most-Armstrongian declaration: “You must prove what I say in this book!” (9) Many times Herbert Armstrong would get quite excited about this point, calling on people to “blow the dusts off your Bibles” and prove what he was saying there. However, both Flurry and Armstrong only allow certain Biblical proof. The criterion for their Biblical proof seems to be to “let the Bible interpret itself” (89). This is not a bad idea in itself, but Flurry’s application of this principle is questionable. Additionally, in telling people to look to the Bible to prove this or that, Armstrong and Flurry are calling on people to exercise rather poor exegesis.

Another example of how Flurry is becoming more like Armstrong in his leadership is shown by a subtle, egotistical claims. One such claim comes from Flurry’s view of his own writing. Mr. Armstrong several times made claims that God was working through him and inspiring all he wrote. The best example of this concerns what HWA said about Mystery of the Ages, specifically that “I myself did not write” it but rather “God used me in writing it.” (See Malachi’s Message 20-25). Armstrong tried to assure us that he viewed all his writing as being more from God’s mind than from his own. Yet sometimes his ego interfered slightly and he let things slip, like saying that Mystery was the “the best work of [his] 93 years of life!” Flurry is beginning to make the same slips. While he often declares that Malachi’s Message was directly inspired by God, he wonders why “Why does this deceived [WCG] minister [would] say it would be wrong for WCG members to read what I write?” (93).
Another claim that smacks of egotism (though in a strangely pathetic fashion) is the declaration (made originally in all caps), “It takes courage to warn the world” (75). This is a courage that neither of the Tkachs have, but clearly Flurry has it in abundance.
Of course doctrinally Flurry will always be akin to Armstrong, but he also makes claims in Malachi’s Message which, while not direct quotes from Armstrong, certainly are in line with Armstrongian leadership. The first one notices when looking at Malachi’s Message is a startling claim on the back-cover abstract: “[Flurry] also preaches the wonderful news that Jesus Christ is going to intervene and save mankind in this generation.” The final prepositional phrase, “in this generation,” leaps off the page and in the minds of educated Christians sets of warning bells. This obviously enough is a direct contradiction of what Christ said concerning his own return in Matt. 24.36, 25.13, and 13.32. Apparently Flurry seems to think he is privy to information that not even God has revealed to Christ.

Flurry is only so specific concerning Jesus’ return once, but on several occasions he hints strongly that it will occur within the next few years. In the introduction he proclaims that “soon it will be obvious to everyone which group comprises the very elect” (xiii). Later, discussing “Joshua’s fellows” (Zech. 3) he declares that the appearance of “Joshua’s fellows [is] a sign that Christs return is very near” (69). As his reference he gives Zech 3.8: “Hear now, O Joshua the high priest, thou, and thy fellows that sit before thee: for they are men wondered at: for, behold, I will bring forth my servant the branch.” Even if we read the verses before and after, it’s clear that there is no way this can be seen as a sign that Christ’s return is near. Finally, while discussing the rebellion of 2 Thes. 2, Flurry claims twice that it is an indication that Christ is returning soon. This rebellion, he says, is another sign that the end “is at hand or imminent. It could be very imminent” (79). Later, concerning the same scripture, Flurry writes, “When you see this ‘falling away’ from the truth God taught through Mr. Armstrong, it’s time to think very seriously about Christ returning soon–very soon” (83).

All of these examples are clearly in keeping with Armstrongism, but tragically unbiblical. One might imagine that Flurry has learned from the abysmal historical record of setting dates for Christ’s return, to which Armstrong of course made several of his own contributions. Naturally Flurry can rightfully enough counter, “But we’re not setting exact dates!” At the same time, to say Christ will be returning “in this generation” is as close as one can come without actually setting a date.

With such special prophetic knowledge and understanding, it should be clear to all (according to Flurry’s reasoning) that he is now the sole divine messenger, passing on God’s words and thoughts to the nations for their edification. This is an idea common to almost all cults and Armstrongism is not an exception. Following in Armstrong’s example, Flurry elevates himself to prophet and prophet fulfiller. He writes, “This is [that warning to the Laodiceans]. You are holding it in your hands! It is a prophecy being fulfilled this very minute!” (31). Just in case readers don’t get the point, Flurry makes it two more times: “God is knocking–to a great extent through Malachi’s Message” (41); “God must reveal the ‘man of sin.’ God has done that through Malachi’s Message” (87). Flurry gets so carried away with the idea that he alone is God’s spokesperson that he makes two quite fantastic and egotistical claims toward the end of the book. He first argues that “all of God’s ministers are going to know Malachi’s Message came from God–whether they realize it now or in the Great Tribulation” (143). In the conclusion, though, he broadens this claim: “Malachi’s Message was revealed by God. Every human being on this earth must eventually come to see that!” (151). None of this should not come as a surprise as God is using him alone to carry on HWA’s work (99).

Since, in the eyes of the general PCG membership, Flurry is God’s sole messenger on the earth today, we should expect that if Flurry makes claims that have no Biblical support whatsoever they will remain generally unquestioned by the PCG majority. And indeed, Flurry indulges in such extra-Biblical speculation on several occasions. In doing so, Flurry is, for all in intents and purposes, speaking for God, revealing information that God previously chose to keep to himself.

Flurry first makes this mistake when referring to a passage on the famed “church eras.” “God included these verses in Revelation 14 to be an encouragement to the Laodiceans who read them during their trials in the Tribulation” (48). Of course the interpretation (re: seven prophecied church eras) Flurry applies to this scripture is subject to great debate, and many Biblical scholars, if not most, would vehemently disagree with this bit of exegesis. Yet even if this were the accepted interpretation of this passage, there is nothing here to indicate that God included this as comfort for the Laodiceans going through the “Tribulation.” Flurry is making a leap completely out of the Bible and claiming information that is not even hinted at in these scriptures.

One of WCG’s most disastrous doctrinal changes, according to Flurry, is the de-emphasis of prophecy. Flurry says that “God considers this prodigious change by the WCG to be a major sin!” (108). While there is an indication that prophecy should be a part of any ministry (Amos 2.11-12), it is certainly short of saying that not prophesying is a sin. Once again, Flurry is speaking for God.

The most striking (and tragically comic) example of this comes in the final pages of Malachi’s Message. The passage deserves to be quoted at length:

Malachi’s Message was first received by many people on January 16, 1990, the very day of the anniversary of Mr. Armstrong’s death (January 16, 1986). We didn’t plan it, but we were happy it happened that way. You are going to see the date of Mr. Armstrong’s death take on more significance as time goes on. John Amos and I were disfellowshiped on December 7, 1989–40 days before the anniversary of Mr. Armstrong’s death. The number 40 is significant in the Bible. The third 19-year time cycle of the Work of the WCG ended in January of 1991–the same month as the fifth anniversary of Mr. Armstrong’s death. In the original version of Malachi’s Message we asked this question: “Will we see some dramatic event in the world or within God’s Philadelphian and/or Laodicean Churches then?” The Persian Gulf War began on January 16, 1991! God considers the date of Mr. Armstrong’s death to be very significant (149).

After quoting Luke 13.7-9 in its entirety (referring to giving a vineyard three or four years to bear fruit), Flurry continues making wild claims.

God gave the fig tree four years to bear fruit. If it failed to produce, He cut it down. After Mr. Armstrong died, he also gave the WCG four years to bear fruit. When the WCG failed, God raised up the Philadelphia Church to do His Work. Mr. Armstrong died in January 1986. The Philadelphia Church made the first mailing of Malachi’s Message in January 1990–exactly four years later! We planned none of this–God did the planning (150).

The fact that four events of some significance can be “connected” to the date of Mr. Armstrong’s death is hardly proof that “God considers the date of Mr. Armstrong’s death to be very significant.” To begin with, it wouldn’t be very difficult to connect almost any event to Mr. Armstrong’s death using the significant numbers of the Bible (which are abundant in Armstrongian exegesis).

Not only is this an example of poor exegesis, but it is a variation of a logical fallacy known as the cum hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy. One makes this fallacy by asserting that because two events occur together, they must be causally related, and obviously enough, it’s a fallacy because it doesn’t take into account other possible factors and causes of the events. The initiation of the Persian Gulf War on 16 January had many factors, primarily logistical and political considerations.

The final point to be examined concerning Flurry’s growing Armstrongian leadership methods concerns writing style. Herbert Armstrong was an advertising man, and he took the techniques which successfully caught people’s attention in the ad business and incorporated into his theological endeavors. The result was the signature Armstrongian SMALL CAPITAL LETTERS FOR MODERATE EMPHASIS, LARGE CAPS FOR SCREAMING EMPHASIS and italics for subtly. Of course Flurry follows in Armstrong’s typographical footsteps, and so he doesn’t have to worry about writing succinctly but instead uses typography to make his point. On at least one occasion he manages to include all three styles in one sentence: “They are taking a Laodicean turn AWAY from Christ–because they ignore what CHRIST ESTABLISHED through Zerubbabel (HWA)” (62).

While the intended purpose of such uses of different type styles may indeed be emphasis, the result is something quite different. Instead, it turns the passage in question into a quite emotional cry. The huge amount of italics and all-caps when discussing the WCG’s donation to help restore the Globe Theater at Stratford-upon-Avon? (129) and when considering whether WCG considers HWA a false prophet (113) reveals a strong emotional response to these issues. One can almost hear how a WCG minister of old (or current PCG minister) would deliver this in a sermon. Good writing makes its own point and a well-planned, well-documented argument reveals its strengths without the aid of typographical stunts.

Unfortunately, Flurry has taken other aspects of Armstrong’s writing as his own, including an avoidance of documentation of any sort. This actually weakens one claim in Malachi’s Message that otherwise would have been good points. Toward the end of the book, Flurry writes, “Mr. Armstrong set a precedent for what the PCG is doing now” by writing to the members of the Sardis era and telling them “their Church was dead!” (149). This would be a good point response to the claims that HWA began the Worldwide Church of God in a way diametrically opposed to Flurry’s methods (and it was this idea that Flurry was “causing division” unlike Mr. Armstrong had which prompted his disfellowshipment), but it loses any strength by the lack of documentation.

Another example of undocumented claims is the assertion that “Mr. Armstrong’s last instructions to Mr. Tkach were, ‘I have reached world leaders, your job is to get the Church ready'” (137). It’s amusing that Flurry doesn’t see this as a change in the church’s “commission.” The first in Flurry’s list of WCG doctrinal changes is a the new commission of Matt. 28.19-20 as opposed to Matt. 24.14 (see WCG Doctrinal Changes, 16-19). The idea of preparing the church is not in either scripture, so it appears that neither the PCG nor the WCG are following Armstrong’s wishes on this matter.

It seems, in conclusion, that the relationship between HWA’s legacy and the PCG’s theology and leadership is at best troublesome and unbalanced. Flurry wants to keep the core Armstrongian beliefs in his church. However, the fact that the WCG abandoned Armstrong’s teachings and necessitated the formation of the Philadelphia Church to begin with makes it impossible for Flurry to maintain a completely static Armstrongian theology. The result is dogma and doctrine that claim to be Armstrongian but suffer from their own necessary modifications and modulations and are not as pure as Flurry claims

The Cult Characteristics of the Philadelphia Church of God as Revealed in Malachi’s Message

In his book A Rumor of Angels, sociologist Peter Berger writes that the “social psychology of fundamentalism is what Erich Fromm called the ‘escape from freedom’–the flight into an illusionary and necessarily intolerant certitude from the insecurities of being human” (“Religious Liberty–Sub Specie Ludi” in A Rumor of Angels, 177). Obviously, a cult is necessarily fundamentalist, and this psychological analysis applies to the Philadelphia Church of God. Just as the Worldwide Church of God thought of itself as the exclusive body of Christ for so many years, the Philadelphia Church of God believes it is God’s elect.

Exclusive religious tendencies provide a sense of security for believers, as Berger points out, and in the case of Armstrongian exclusiveness there is a sort of double-walled sense of protection. First, it draws from the general Christian idea “God loves me” the simple feeling that even if no one else loves us, God does. Christianity is peculiar because it makes very specific claims and provides a very intense sense of personal importance. When Christians speak of Christ and his crucifixion, they speak of his love, specifically his love for them as individuals. “Jesus loves me,” is a common refrain in Christianity which echoes a frequently quoted passage in the Bible (John 3.16). However, Armstrong’s Christian cultic ideas intensify and slightly modify this feeling. Instead of “Jesus loves me,” stressing the love, one can say “Jesus loves me,” stressing the self, the “me,” implying an elliptical, “But I’m not so sure about whether he loves you.” It hints at a superiority that is intensified in the language of Armstrongian theology: the elect, the firstfruits, and so on.

Therefore, within the PCG, this exclusiveness takes on a new dimension, a sort of triple-layered exclusiveness. At the first tier is the basic Christian exclusive doctrine that Christ is the only way to eternal life. This removes any possible authenticity (“truth,” in other words) of alternative salvational routes offered in other religions and at its extreme, removes the necessity for dialogue between these religions. In other words, it creates a sort of separate universe and states that any universe not identical (i.e., those which don’t have Christ in them) are fundamentally flawed. (Peter Berger offers an insightful analysis of this issue in “A Funeral in Calcutta,” also found within the newest edition of A Rumor of Angels.)

There is ample evidence of this in PCG theology. There is one particularly startling example of this, though: “The Jews have not been commissioned to build God’s Temple–as Zerubbabel and Solomom were anciently. If they build a temple, it will be the Jews’ temple, not God’s temple–just as it was “the Jews’ feast of tabernacles” (John 7.2), not God’s Feast of Tabernacles” (80). In this one sentence Flurry uses excruciatingly poor exegesis to illustrate strong exclusiveness while hinting at subtle yet arrogant xenophobia. To being with, Flurry takes this scripture completely out of its written context and original cultural milleu.

This scripture is not intended to juxtapose Christ’s example or view point to the Jews’. Indeed, Christ was a Jew. If it was the “Jews’ feast of tabernacles” then it necessarily was Christ’s as well.

Flurry also hints at anti-semitism in this passage. Xenophobia is an obvious extreme to which exclusiveness can be taken, and racism abounds in Mystery of the Ages and in Armstrongian theology in general, most obviously in the theory of Anglo-Israelism. Of course it is usually not explicit racism but implicit, as in this case.

Returning to the issue of triple exclusiveness, Armstrong added a second layer by saying, “Not only is Christ the only way to eternal life, but only my interpretation of Christ is the way to eternal life.” While there is much chaffing and back-biting ridicule among denominations about finer doctrinal points, there are not many which go to a cultic extreme and call all other denominations Satanic as Armstrong did.

With the former Worldwide Church of God Armstrongites leaving for either the Global Church of God, the United Church of God, or the Philadelphia Church of God, there exists a possible third layer of exclusiveness. All three new churches claim to be following Armstrong’s teachings more righteously and rigorously than the WCG, but there are certainly differences. One thing is common, though: There is still an exclusive tendency which sets members apart from the world, but now it does so in three ways. First there is the general Christian tendency toward exclusiveness which sets Christians apart from the rest of the world. The second is the Armstrongian exclusiveness which sets believers apart from the rest of the Christian community. Finally, there is what I’ll call the Flurryian exclusiveness, which sets PCG members apart from G/U/WCG members. As we saw before, Flurry claims that “your Bible says only one of these groups can be doing God’s work” (x): “Several different churches have been formed by former Worldwide Church of God ministers. All of these churches–including the WCG–are Laodicean, except one” (6). Flurry points out soon enough that only the PCG is made up of God’s elect Philadelphians: “The Laodiceans are comprised of the WCG and other groups that have left the WCG–except the PCG” (31). This is the doctrinal reason why Flurry gives two possible Biblical names for Tkach: Clearly, someone else (possibly David Hulme or Rod Merredith) must be the other figure. All of this serves to strengthen (for PCG members) the idea that they are the elect and so “no other group is given this understanding [of Malachi’s Message] by God” (55). Flurry summarizes this idea nicely himself: “We . . . have a ‘corner on the spiritual market'” (91).

This exclusiveness has several theological ramifications, some of which Flurry notices (and even revels in), some of which he ignores. He does realize quite clearly that he is denouncing in the strongest possible terms other people’s religion, for he states that the failure to recognize Armstrong as the end-time Elijah “condemns a person’s religion” (52). He also understands that such exclusiveness removes almost completely the possibility that God even acknowledges non-Armstrongian Christians, to the point that he implies that God refuses to witness (and, hence, sanctify) non-Armstrongian marriages (16). However, this doesn’t follow logically even if we grant that only PCG members are true Christians. There is nothing in the Bible to indicate that God ignores those who aren’t his chosen favorites. Indeed, we find just the opposite in most everything Christ does and says, but Flurry overlooks this.

One of the results of this extreme exclusiveness is an equally exclusive view of the Bible. “The WCG has taught for years that when the Bible says ‘you,’ it’s talking to God’s people” (28). The Bible is written, therefore, solely for the PCG audience only. This conclusion is allows Flurry a great deal of latitude in determining what passages are prophetic for God’s end-time elect. Verses directed to the human population in general (in as much as any passages in the Bible are directed thus broadly) can be scaled back and applied only to the PCG. A good example of this is found on page 93 where Flurry discusses the “strong delusion” of 2 Thes. 2.10-11.
Another cultic characteristic which Flurry illustrates in Malachi’s Message is the tendency to create a separate reality opposed to general society in as many ways as possible. This is related to the exclusiveness I just mentioned, but whereas said exclusivness tends to be more theological, what I have in mind now is the practial results of this mindset.

The best way to create this alternative universe is to limit contact with non-Armstrongites which would give members something to juxtapose to Flurry’s teachings. The closed-door policy of the PCG’s church services accomplishes this nicely. While Flurry doesn’t specifically comment on this policy in Malachi’s Message (see WCG Doctrinal Changes, page 73, for Flurry’s view on this topic), he does make it clear through his use of Armstrongian vocabulary that the message is intended for Armstrongites familiar with the terminology of the cult. This perptuates the need for a closed-door policy because it makes it necessary for perspective members to receive much “counciling” before they are ready to attend services. In other words, Flurry’s use the Armstrongian theological lexicon (without providing any definitions or explanations) both creates an alternative reality (theological and practical) and assures the believers’ distance from non-PCG society.

One of the tragic results of this exclusive universe is a lack of compassion for those of “the world.” Flurry declares as a waste of money the donation the WCG made to “hurricane and other disaster funds. Instead of spending money to warn people why disasters are happening, the WCG helps them financially. Soon the world is going to be literally flooded with disasters! . . . Tithes and offerings are going to be spent in vain if they continue this approach” (95). Since “only God’s people have true love” (98), we are left with the startling conclusion that true love preaches about how humanity’s sins brought these disasters upon various individual but it shouldn’t not help them.

It stands to reason that the creation of a separate reality necessitates an inherent distrust of those outside that protective reality. In this sense, Flurry continues with Armstrong’s education bias, thereby providing another assurance that nothing can challenge his teachings. This is clearly why “Mr. Armstrong taught us to avoid educational areas such as pyschology, sociology, the word’s theology and much of man’s law” (76), for each of these areas of scientific inquiry can illuminate the unhealthy, cultic aspects of Armstrongian theology as well as call into question many of HWA’s core doctrines. For Flurry, the results of “relying more on human, scholarly reasoning” (75) based on the “authorities of the world” (73) are clearly illustrated in Satan’s beguiling of the WCG’s leadership. “The Worldwide Church is too scholarly–too academic in wordly ways” (138), and the consequence is Satanic deception.

As an aside, it’s interesting to note that Flurry declares as Satanic only things from the outside world (“the scholars of the world”) which criticize or refute Armstrongian theology. When the world supports Flurry’s pre-conceived conclusions, it is a clear plus. Concerning whether the rebellion in II Thes. 2.4 is in the world or in the church, he points out that The Interpreter’s Bible Commentary says it’s within the church, concluding that “If people in the world understand this, certainly God’s people should!” (79). Later, he writes that “‘Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse’ implies that some of the tithes are being misdirected (see almost any commentary)” (128). (I will return to this topic when I examine Flurry’s interpretation techniques.)

Any cult leader must have mechanisms to ensure that members follow whatever rigorous guidelines the particular leader imposes, and most of these mechanisms are fear and guilt based. Flurry uses both with a dexterity Armstrong would have been proud of.

Flurry’s primary tactic is simple. He writes, “God’s truth is sometimes very hard to receive. But there is no other choice when you consider the alternative” (104). Clearly, fear is used to offset the heavy obligations of the law. “You think it’s difficult to follow the law? Here’s the alternative!” he seems to be saying. This means that people are following Flurry not to gain benefits but to avoid punishment. Since Flurry rejects the idea of eternal punishment, he is writing here about the loss of eternal life. And he makes this point quite a few times. The first time he connects it through implication to Armstrong’s teachings: “Either we hang on to what we learned or we lose our eternal life!” (97). At another point, he makes the connection to the Laodicean majority: “God will destroy the work of the Laodiceans!” (86); “The Laodicean work of rebellion is destined to be smashed. It can end no other way, because God is against it” (87). Later, it evolves into a simple, general threat: “Eternal life or eternal death is at stake for many of God’s people!” (101). By the end of the book Flurry has incorporated also the fear of losing one’s physical life and makes a direct connection with Joseph Tkach: “If you follow [Mr. Tkach], nuclear holocaust awaits you!” (127).

Flurry’s Interpretation Techniques

As stated before, a common element in Flurryian exegesis is the acceptance of worldly authority which conforms to Armstrongian doctrine and a rejection of other wordly influence. A long-time King James Only advocate, Flurry has often maintained there are interpolations included in other translations (i.e., the New International Version) which are Satanically inspired. Others, like the Zerubbabel inset (Zech. 4.6-10) are seen as inspired by God (63). No criteria are given for how to determine whether it is inspired by Satan or Christ, but it seems safe to assume that all passages which support Flurry’s pre-conceived interpretations are from Christ and all which detract are Satanic. (There is, in fact, an article in an old Philadelphia Trumpet which makes a case for the KJV-Only position–unfortuantely, I don’t have the documentation for it at the moment.)

There is a deeper irony in Flurry’s KJV-Only position which he doesn’t seem to grasp. If the New International Version and others are flawed because the translators were worldly and Satanically deceived, how did King James’ scribes and interpreters escape this same pitfall? And more importantly, how does Flurry know that they weren’t, in fact, deceived by the wily devil? Surprisingly, he does maintain that King James’ interpreters were deceived in at least one area: They wrongly translated hagios pneuma as “Holy Ghost” instead of “Holy Spirit.”

Naturally, the best way for Flurry to avoid the problem of deceived translators is to read the Bible in the original Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. To do so, though, would require a proficiency in these ancient languages that Flurry simply doesn’t have. He could attend a university and take classes in these languages, but that would be going out into the world and receiving the instruction of worldly academics, something he’s not willing to do.

Even though he staunchly maintains a KJV-Only position, Flurry occasionally admits that other translations offer a better interpretation of a particular word or passage. Sometimes, in stating that such-and-such is a better translation, he falls into his familiar and habitual lack of documentation: “In II Thes. 2.3, ‘deceive’ should be translated ‘beguile'” (81), he writes, giving no documentation whatever. Ironically enough, not even the HWA favorite Strong’s uses “beguile” in its definition. A couple of pages later, he does the same thing, saying that “the ‘traditions’ of II Thes. 2.15 are better interpreted ‘instructions'” (83). Again, there is no indication of how he determined this.

Flurry claims that the best way to read the Bible is to “let the Bible interpret itself” (89). This is, in fact, not a bad idea, but in applying it, Flurry makes one basic mistake in doing this: Flurry’s Armstrongian dictate to look to the Bible to “prove it!” (9) necessarily entails approaching the Bible with pre-conceptions about what we will find there, and this is one of the worst mistakes we can make when interpreting the Bible. If we look to the Bible to prove a specific point, we’ll do just that. In the meantime, we will take scriptures out of their context in every way imagineable, mis-quote, and ignore contradicting passages, all of which Flurry does.

With this in mind, it’s easy to see how Flurry, bent on prophecy, easily turns anything and everything in the Bible into a prophetic pronouncement. Therefore the story of Esau and Jacob can be a prophetic description of the end-time church (122). In this case, Flurry’s reasoning seems to be thus: a) Malachi is clearly a prophecy directed to the church; b)Esau and Jacob are mentioned in Malachi; c)Therefore, all references to Esau and Jacob are at least somewhat prophetic and directed at the church. Once again this is sloppy exegesis combined with flawed logic. In this case, Flurry commits the circulus in demonstrando fallacy. This fallacy occurs if you assume as a premise the conclusion which you wish to reach. But as logic is a wordly science, Flurry can’t worry himself too much if he violates a few of its principles here and there.

Sometimes, there doesn’t even need to be a slight indication of the desired conclusion in a verse for Flurry to declare that it has some special prophectic meaning. In other words, he finds things in scripture that aren’t vaguely indicated in the passage in question. For example, he claims that Amos 6.1 (“Woe to them that are at ease in Zion, and trust in the mountain of Samaria, which are named chief of the nations, to whom the house of Israel came!”) is “a prophecy for the Laodicean church today!” (126). There is nothing in the verse itself or in the contextual verses to indicate this.
conclusion needed

The God of the PCG

While Flurry never gives a succinct definition of God and his attributes in Malachi’s Message, we can piece one together from various parts of the book. Not surprisingly, the resulting God is startlingly different than the God of orthodox Christianity in that Flurry has disallowed from his definition of God the three main assumptions of the Western world, namely omniscience, omnipotence, and complete beneficence.

One of Flurry’s worst techniques of exegesis is an indulgence in inappropriately literal interpretations of some scriptures, resulting in an incredibly anthropomorphic view of God. In short, Flurry creates an anthropomorphic God which is incapable of omnipotence and omniscience, two of the most basic components of the Western idea (and in particular, the Christian articulation) of “God.”

Scripture attributes to God a great deal of qualities and emotions, many of which are necessarily anthropomorphic. This is, of course, to be expected. As humans, we have nothing except our own experience to form frames of reference about anything. To be sure, our finite nature makes it nearly impossible for us to speak of God without resorting to anthropomorphic (or, as Peter Berger refers to it, “humanizing”) language. We must therefore speak of God in terms of analogy (specifically, through analogy of proportionality, not analogy of attribution), though this still presents certain problems. (The British philosopher H. P. Owen deals with these problems of analogy in religious language in his book The Christian Knowledge of God.)
The trick to developing a blanaced view of the Scriptural claims about God (and indeed, of forming a healthy view of God) is a balance between our necessarily human-based, limited articulations and the realization that they are such. Either extreme produces ridiculous propositions about God: On the one hand, it would be impossible to say anything about God if we limit ourselves to strictly non-anthropomorphic explanations of God. Even St. Bernard’s via negativa relies on anthropomorphic language in describing what God is not. On the other hand, if we forget that these things we say about God are necessarily flawed (contaminated with our own humanity, you might say) and indulge in a linguistic free-for-all in our descriptions of God, we will only end up looking quite ridiculous (as Tillich pointed out in his article article for The Christian Scholar entitled, “The Nature of Religious Language”).

Flurry’s explanations of God and his omnipotence cross the line and are simply too anthropomorphic. He takes a literal interpretation of what Scripture says when he says God “didn’t know” this or “couldn’t do” that, failing to keep in mind the different shades and hues language must take on when discussing God. In other words, he has greatly reduced the powerful symbolic meaning of Scripture by viewing it too literally.

Flurry’s exegesis most commonly creates a God which is decidedly not omniscient. There are almost endless examples of this in Malachi’s Message. Twice he mentions something about our actions “revealing” something to God. First he says that “your approach to Bible study helps reveal to God how nobel you are” (10). Later, “the next few months and years are going to be very revealing–to God’s people and to God” (91). It should be impossible to “reveal” anything to God, for something to be “revealed” necessitates prior ignorance  While Flurry doesn’t say as much, he is implying that God is ignornant of certain things.

However, Flurry later crosses that line of implication and says specifically that there are things God doesn’t know: He argues that “we’re either going to be God, or we’re going to be nothing. God wants to know who is going to qualify for His Kingdom. That is the whole purpose of our existence” (11). Later still Flurry maintains that there is a “precise point when God will know absolutely which Laodiceans are to be saved and which Laodiceans are to be lost” (46). And lastly, “God wants to know if they love Him and His truth more than a man, a church, or even their own lives (Luke 14.26)” (94). It seems, then, that human existence is little more than a cosmic experiment, with God testing a hypothesis about free-will by creating humans, and clearly Flurry’s God isn’t quite sure of the outcome of this grand experiment.
That being said, the story of Abraham and Issac has startling implications: “God didn’t know until after the test what Abraham would do” (100). Of course the seemingly inescapable conclusion here is that God was ignorant before the temptation. However, before we reach this conclusion, we must first interpret that God said, “Now I know” in a manner identical to how we as humans would say, “Now I know.” Most theologians and philosophers would contend that this is a faulty interpretation, that God didn’t mean “Now I know” in the way that humans mean, “Now I know.” However, that’s what is written in Scripture and Flurry, taking huge liberties, interprets this and other passages literally, resulting in an almost comically unorthodox God.

Obviously these examples constitute a complete denial of God’s omniscience. How does Flurry get around it? He resorts to one of Armstrong’s most un-Biblical and illogical assertions: “God does not yet know . . . because He has chosen not to know” (87). To begin with, there is absolutely no scriptural support for this idea. It is necessary only when we interpret scripture too literally, as Flurry does and Armstrong did before him.

In addition, the contention that God “wills not to know” is logically fragile. To have a will about anything one must have knowledge of it. God would necessarily have to know what he was willing not to know, therefore creating a logical contradiction. (If Flurry were to respond by saying that “God doesn’t ‘know’ in the same way that we know,” then he would be trying to turn my argument against me without applying it to himself. In other words, he would be making my earlier argument for me and render the whole issue a moot point.)

To back up the contention that God “controls what He knows and doesn know”, Flurry might point out that God “forgets” our sins when we are forgiven. However, there is a big difference between ignorance and forgetting. For God not to have known the outcome of Abraham’s temptation requires both a priori and a posteriori ignorance. Forgetting implies a posteriori knowledge which is removed. In other words, to forget means that we know before the act of forgetting, but later lack this knowledge. This is of course quite possible, as I do it myself all the time, and while it’s impossible for us to forget intentionally, I’ll allow that God, in his omnipotence, can do such a thing. There seems to be no logical incongruity there. However, to interpret that God “forgets our sins” as proof that he controls what he knows is ridiculous because it amounts to God forgetting before he knows, which is impossible.

Not only is Flurry’s God not omniscient, but he is also not omnipotent. Toward the end of the book, Flurry declares that “if we faithfully do our part, God’s message won’t be suppressed!” (108). This implies that it could be suppressed, that God would be incapable of overcoming the obstacle of PCG’s failure. He says the same thing a few pages later: “If the Philadelphia members don’t protect God’s truth, it will perish from this planet!” (147). So impotent is Flurry’s God that it is possible for humans to overwhelm him and eradicate his “truth” entirely. It makes one wonder what would God do then? Pack up and say, “Oh well, we tried.”

The last traditional aspect of God to fall in the wake of Flurry’s inept exegesis is beneficence. As pointed out earlier, Flurry’s thesis is that God is separating the true Philadelphian minority from the Laodicean majority by sending a “strong delusion” (2 Thes. 2.10-11) in the form of deceived leadership (11, 91ff). This contemporary prophetic interpretation of 2 Thessalonians has dire implications for God’s beneficence. It means that not only can people lose their salvation by leading a sinful life, but also because God deceives them. In other words, Flurry’s God tricks people into losing salvation. Flurry all but admits this: “God is testing each of us to see what we will do. This is a carefully laid plan to reveal the quality of our character” (134). It sounds more like a carefully laid trap devised by an immature, immoral being than an act of a loving God. Obviously, this “plan” too has obviously dreadful consequences for God’s omniscience, for it also implies that God doesn’t know the quality of our character without toying with us. Additionally, this is not only dreadfully immoral but also a complete contradiction of the Bible: “Let no man say . . . I am tempted of God: for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth he any man” (James 1.13, KJV).

The God of the PCG also places conditions on his acceptance of humans. There are numerous references to “qualifying” for God’s kingdom (and therefore, escaping the horrible death that awaits humanity in the Great Tribulation). Also, Flurry makes it clear that “God remembers the Philadelphian group because they remembered him” (2) and “God is not going to take his people to a place of safety unless they support those who serve God!” (135). Not only is there no scriptural support given, but this flies in the face of all that Christ did. (It does, however, go a long way in assuring Flurry will have financial support to carry out his self-ordained mission. It is, in other words, another example of using fear to control the general membership. Also, the general lay-members are not the only ones who get this treatment: “Fellow ministers, what is God going to think of us if we fail to act?” (133).)

Since Flurry’s God is limited in knowledge, power, and goodness, it would be well to stay always on his good side. Fortunately, Flurry provides plenty of guidance concerning how to remain in good standing with God: in a word, works. God has provided a set of rules concerning everything from what meat to eat to how to spend your Saturday afternoons (though there are several portions of the Hebrew law that the PCG doesn’t follow, i.e., destroying one’s home if mildew persists or not wearing clothes of two fabrics). Through strict obedience to these laws, we make God happy and he blesses us. If we don’t follow these laws, God gets irritated and curses us.

One way we can get on God’s bad side is not following his earthly leaders. Of course since God sends out strong delusion, we might have trouble discerning who are the true elect leaders, so we must be careful: “We all have the potential to fail horribly” (135) because our “reward depends on recognizing the true representatives of God” (145). Once we find out where the true church is, we must redouble our efforts to hold onto the precious knowledge that God gave us through HWA because “we are judged by what we do with all that knowledge” (49). Ministers too must watch their backs because the “are being judged by what [they] do with God’s flock!” (144)

We are must still be vigilant once we’re in the true church because God “will allow His followers to go astray. Then He usually has to start a new era–or work with those who remain loyal to him” (8). This means that if we go astray, God essentially abandons us.

Also, our salvation is ultimately in our hands–we can mess it up to the point that God is no longer willing (or possibly not able) to help

The observation that PCG/Armstrongian theology is completely works-based is nothing new, but Flurry takes this to a frightening level when discussing the fate of the Laodiceans. After less-than-ample proof that all the Laodiceans are to die in the Tribulation (46), he says, “The Laodiceans have to prove themselves by dying for God” (47). Armstrongian theology has moved from saying that we must not eat pork to prove that we are godly to saying that some of us must die to prove that we are godly. There is really no need to comment on the frightening implications of this except to say that it raises the cult status of PCG to a level nearing Jim Jones/David Koresh intensity in some ways.

There is a practical purpose for this works-based legalism, though: It provides a measuring stick for righteousness. “God loves me . . . so much that he chose me–not you–to be among the first fruits of his coming Kingdom. What? How do I know God loves me? Because unlike you, I follow his laws! I don’t work on the Sabbath. I pay my tithes. I don’t eat pork or other unclean foods.” It gives us added security that we are in good standing with God and a strong sense of superiority over and condescending pity for the deceived masses.

As a final point it’s important to point out that Flurry has even managed to incorporate works into his definition of faith: “Faith is nothing more than acting on God’s word!” (144). Obviously enough this contradicts the Biblical definition in Hebrews 11.1: “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” While it seems impossible, Flurry has forumlated a definition of faith in which works plays a significan roll. It would seem that there doesn’t need to be a link between faith and works for Flurry as there is in other denominations–they are simply pronounced synonymous

In tracing several of the themes in Malachi’s Message, it becomes obvious that the Philadelphia Church of God is far from the Christian orthodoxy and exhibits theological and behavioral symptoms of a cult. Of course this is nothing unexpected as the WCG’s initial motions toward orthodoxy which prompted Flurry to form the PCG. What is surprising is the level this reaches and its pervasiveness. Flurry takes the already-unhealthy ideas of Amstrong and uses WCG’s doctrinal shift to construct a new layer of guilt-producing, works-based, exclussivist theology. It’s probably a good thing that Flurry teaches that the members of the Philadelphia Church of God should wear the “cult badge” with pride–unless there are incredibly drastic (and equally unlikely) changes, the membership will be wearing that label for many years to come.