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 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 deep pain from a church. But first, let me backup my story . . . 

In the '80s, I worked as an administrative assistant for the head office of The Free Methodist Church in Canada (FMCC). I loved that job! I assisted both the Executive Directors (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. 

At the time, though, I was also going through a relationship breakup that I didn't know how to handle. I was around 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 the FMCC. How could I explain to my bosses--these well-respected Christian leaders, what I was going through? I barely knew what to do myself. I was in shock. In that era, Christians weren't supposed to divorce. I was so embarrassed. I also had no one to talk to about it since I was in a new city where I knew no one. 

I was earning a church salary, a meagre amount that was hard to live on. I needed to figure out how I could pay my own rent. That led to a series of unfortunate events as I moved from one apartment to another trying to make it on my own.

I was so hurt, so vulnerable, so lost, and so lonely. But I remained close to God. 

The Free Methodist Church in Canada
Mississauga, ON

 

 
Church was Important

I eventually found a little church near one of my apartments to attend. (The Free Methodists didn't have any churches in Mississauga at that time, and my background was Baptist.) I was glad I could walk to this little church as a stop gap, 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. I did.  

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 almost like a babysitting service. So, I helped teach the children and mentored the youth. 

This was okay as a temporary gig, but I longed for more--friends my age. And finally God led me to drive past another church not too far off where I eventually made a visit. 

Finding Bethel

The new church was called Bethel Evangelical Baptist Church. I was warmly welcomed and I'd finally found home.

It was wonderful. People were warm and friendly. There, I was able to share my separation struggles and became strong enough to finalize my divorce. 

At Bethel, I helped start a young adult ministry and pitched in with the children as needed.

I soon started a new job due to needing to earn more to support myself. I met my current husband at my new job and brought him to church activities. It was at Bethel he became a believer at around age 32. 

We were married in Bethel in 1991. I was 32, he 34. Bethel had been a meaningful place for both of us.

former Bethel Baptist Church, Mississauga, ON

Bethel Revamped 

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 Steven 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 apparent 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 behind. But they didn't come right out and say such. They were, instead, sneaky.

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 though, and weren't happy about it and a church split started. 

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

The Hurtful Meeting

I was the church clerk at the time when the pastors made a motion to remove from the roster members who were no longer attending. 

What followed was another meeting where new participants were suddenly being voted into membership—a shock to many of us. 

But we figured out what was happening. 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 with people to get what they wanted. It seemed sleazy. 

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

Fractured Feelings 

There was no holding on to our beloved Bethel as we knew it. Essentially, the church split again with everyone 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 at the time, 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, forever being jaded about churches.

My fractured heart. 

The Toronto Blessing 

The pastors eventually moved on to become prominent leaders in the Toronto Blessing, chasing their moment of fame. John even stopped wearing his glasses so he'd look better on camera. 

When we had disagreed with their direction, Pastor Steve had told us we had demons in our home. But they didn't come to drive them out, they simply wanted to explain our disagreement away.

I know now that is called spiritual abuse. 

To this day, I believe what happened was the work of Satan because Bethel didn't need to be torn down as it was. Certainly, they could have backed out without hurting so many parishioners. Certainly, Steve and John could have resigned and we perhaps could have hired a new pastor. 

We reluctantly started attending a church where a few other former Bethel members had gone. But it was not the same.

We were never all-in again. 

If anything, we became skeptical and critical going forward. Every church we have attended since has been measured against the Bethel we once knew and had cherished. It was our home and now it is gone--turned into a Tim Hortons donut and coffee shop. 

Proceed to POST 16