Post 15 - A Pivotal Shift in My Faith Journey

Post 15

A Pivotal Shift in My Faith Journey

I’ve debated whether or not to share this part of my journey as it happened so many years ago—32 years to be exact. The book I’m referencing in this blog discusses the Toronto Blessing, a movement that had a profound impact on my little church, Bethel, later known as Credit Valley Community Church in Mississauga, Ontario. It was during this time that I experienced my first major deconstruction; birthed from deep pain. But first, let me back up my story . . . 

In the '80s, I worked for the head office of The Free Methodist Church in Canada (FMCC). I loved that job! I served as an administrative assistant to both the Executive Director (Claude Horton; Paul Johnston), and the Bishop at the time (Donald N. Bastian). I was fully invested in my faith and work; honoured to work for a Christian organization. That is where I was trained on my first personal computer. They'd just come out and all secretaries were learning how to use them. 

I was also going through a relationship breakup that I didn't know how to handle. I was 24-years old. My immature husband of a short time, had left the marriage shortly after we moved to Mississauga and after I'd been hired to work at FMCC. How could I explain what was going on? I barely knew what to do myself.

I was in a new city where I knew no one. I was a mess earning a meagre salary and trying to pay my rent and figure out what to do about this sudden relationship shift. I kept my struggles hidden because I knew Christians weren't supposed to get divorced and I was working for a Christian organization!

The Free Methodist Church in Canada
Mississauga, ON

 

A Blip in My Faith Journey 

I found a little church near my apartment to attend since The Free Methodist Church didn't have any churches in Mississauga and my background was Baptist. I was glad I could walk to this little church, but the pastor was clearly suffering from dementia pretending he still had all his marbles. It was not right, but they asked if I would stay and help with the children. 

The random church near my apartment

At most, there were 10 people in the audience but there were quite a few children. Some parents dropped their children off for the morning. So, I helped teach the children and mentored the youth. It was okay as a temporary gig, but I longed for more. And finally God led me to drive past another church where I made a visit. 

It was called Bethel Evangelical Baptist Church, later changed to Credit Valley Community Church. I was warmly welcomed and felt I'd finally found home.

I was able to share my struggle with the kind older people at the church, and became strong enough to finalize my divorce. And then I changed jobs since I'd need a larger salary to support myself. 

I helped start a young adult ministry at Bethel and at my new job, met my current husband. The young adult ministry was growing and I brought my new boyfriend to church. It was at Bethel he became a believer through the counsel of our pastor. 

We were married in that church in 1991, so that church was a pivotal place for both of us.

former Bethel Baptist Church, Mississauga, ON

At that time, we didn't know which name to put on our wedding invitations because the church was in process of changing its name to Credit Valley Community Church. I knew little about the church funds, but they were obviously dwindling and the pastor wanted to revamp the church to draw in more people. So we started holding services at a hospital auditorium with the Bethel building remaining as a hub. 

But what happened next is the part I hesitated sharing, but maybe it's time. A pastor named Steve Long was brought in to help revitalize the struggling congregation. We quickly discovered Steve had nefarious ideas. He and our pastor, John, allegedly had been attending services at the Airport Vineyard Church, later known for the Toronto Blessing movement, later known as Catch the Fire. 

It became aparent to us loyal members that Steve and John seemed to have set their sights on dismantling Bethel's constitution to shift control, essentially, to the pastor. The name change had only been the beginning. 

Though we weren’t certain of their ultimate plan, we suspected they wanted to take the church in a direction that aligned with the Vineyard movement, leaving membership in The Fellowship of Evangelical Baptist Churches in Canada. But they didn't come right out and say such.

The pastors started to build support for a motion they would be making to change the constitution by leveraging the support of newcomers who had found the services at the hospital auditorium. 

Regular attenders of Bethel saw through the plan and weren't happy about it and the church split started. 

A time for every season. 
Wish I knew that then.

I was the church clerk at the time when the pastors made a motion to remove from the roster members who no longer attended regularly. What followed was another meeting where new participants were suddenly being voted into membership—a shock to many of us. 

But we figured it out, you see, any major motion would require a quorum vote. With enough new people voting in their favour, they could push through their proposed changes. Essentially, the pastors were stacking the deck to get what they wanted. It seemed sleezy. 

That was the last event my husband and I attended at that church. We were gutted. 

There was no holding on to our beloved Bethel as we knew it. Essentially, the church split, and everyone was left to find their own path. We were deeply wounded. Relationships were ended. Some of the new supporters stayed, I suppose, but for us, the damage was done.

We were angry. We were devastated. Relationships were irreparably fractured, and no matter how much I, newly pregnant, cried, I couldn’t fix what had been broken. I would carry that grief and shock for years, laying a foundation to my deconstruction journey.

The pastors eventually moved on to become prominent leaders in the Toronto Blessing, chasing their moment of fame.

When we had disagreed with their direction, they told us we had demons in our home. Outlandish accusations were made—things we had never experienced before. I couldn’t accept it. I wasn't into what they practiced at the Toronto Blessing. I felt it was of the devil. In my heart I can't belelive God wouldn’t destroy our little church; it had to be the work of Satan through man. And I wasn’t going to have any part of it.

We reluctantly started attending a church where a few other former Bethel members had gone. We were never all-in again. If anything, we became skeptical and critical going forward. Every church we attended was measured against the Bethel we once knew and had cherished.