Raising the Ruins (23 page)

Four days later, Mr. Tkach, via telephone hook-up, announced that Dr. Meredith was being “transferred” to Pasadena to “write articles.” He was replaced by Dick Thompson. Gary Antion would move in from Pasadena to replace Mr. Thompson as dean of students.

The whole announcement was upsetting. But I couldn’t help feeling excited as well. The rumor Mr. Amos heard was, in fact, true! To me, it indicated that there were some rumblings of dissatisfaction among the field ministers around the world—it wasn’t just my dad! If there indeed was a split in the church, hopefully the majority would stand up for the truth, or at least maybe it would be a 50-50 split.

That night, I happened to be eating with a student named Rick. After everyone at our table had left, half joking, he told me the church had drifted into a “lukewarm attitude.” Once he saw that I didn’t disagree, he quickly turned serious. “This church is Laodicean,” he said. “I don’t care what anyone says. The same thing is happening now that happened in the 1970s, only this time, I’m old enough to see it”—this from someone I had just met! I immediately thought to myself, “Now here is someone I need to spend more time with.” When his friend Chris joined us in mid-conversation, I politely changed the subject. Rick interjected, “Oh, don’t worry, he thinks the same way I do.”

This was too good to be true!
Sure, the overwhelming majority of students thought Dr. Meredith’s transfer was nothing more than “business as usual.” But for me to stumble upon two students who were terribly upset by the news and felt that the church was Laodicean seemed like a miracle from God. I really needed those two guys. The three of us started listening to old tapes together. We dug up old literature in the library to get a good grasp of what Mr. Armstrong taught on all the church’s foundational teachings. For the rest of the semester, the three of us were practically inseparable.

Our Last Feast

My family came to Big Sandy for the Feast of Tabernacles in mid-October. My sister read my dad’s manuscript during that Feast, giving us lots to talk about. She told me that while she couldn’t refute anything in the paper, her only concern was,
why did it have to be Dad?
She and I were struggling to get past the same obstacle.

Before the Feast started, I gave my dad a copy of a video Rick had gotten hold of a couple weeks earlier. It was Mr. Armstrong’s taped sermon from the 1985 Feast. This was the one preceded by the 20-minute segment about the uniqueness and importance of
Mystery of the Ages
, with footage of Mr. Armstrong addressing the sophomores. My dad added a couple of points from that video to his Feast sermon, given the fourth day of the festival, October 17, 1989. It was the last Feast message my dad would give in the Worldwide Church of God.

Later that Feast, when Mr. Tkach announced that the church would be donating $100,000 to victims of the earthquake in San Francisco, I distinctly remember my dad saying, “They can afford to make a huge donation for the earthquake, but they can’t afford to print
Mystery of the Ages
.”
He was disgusted.

Getting Turned In

Soon after I read the paper over the summer, my dad began discussing the disturbing direction of the church with his assistant pastor, John Amos. Mr. Amos was also upset with the church’s direction and didn’t know how God intended to fix the problem, until after reading the manuscript. He was so gung-ho for what my dad was studying and writing that it inspired my dad all the more to press on with the project, confident that God would back him in the end.

There were also several members in my dad’s church area who were upset about the changes. But he was much more guarded around them—telling them nothing about his manuscript and only that “God would work things out.” Three individuals, however, persisted in asking my dad to explain what was going on with the church: Don Avilez and Stuart Powell (both local church elders), and a deacon named Dan Elliott. My dad finally agreed to meet with them, along with Mr. Amos, on Sunday, November 5. (Mr. Powell and Mr. Elliott also brought their wives). During the meeting, which lasted for several hours, he told them why he believed these changes were happening. He later issued copies of the manuscript, suggesting they study it first before meeting with him again a few weeks later.

On the way home with Mr. Amos, my dad expressed concern, wondering if he had done the right thing. Much of the feedback at the meeting was encouraging—even enthusiastic. But it was clear that the five of them were shaken by my dad’s explanation.

Their follow-up meeting had been set for early December. This time, when my dad and Mr. Amos arrived at the old building in Enid (the same one where much of
Malachi’s Message
had been written), the two wives weren’t there—only the three men. (Conversely, Mrs. Amos, who was now in full agreement with her husband’s support of my father, decided to attend.) Don Avilez had taken the lead among the three men, saying that my dad was way out of line to criticize Mr. Tkach Sr. and headquarters. Though not completely shocked, my father and Mr. Amos were both deeply disappointed. My father asked the three men to return their manuscripts, which they did, and assured them that he would eventually deliver a completed copy to Mr. Tkach. Until then, he asked that they keep these discussions confidential.

Later that week, Don Avilez called Arnold Clauson in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. (Mr. Clauson had been the pastor in Oklahoma City before my dad replaced him in 1985.) Mr. Clauson then called Joseph Tkach Jr. in Church Administration on December 6.

The cat was out of the bag.

Moving Headquarters

Ironically, I actually saw Joe Jr.’s dad in Big Sandy the same day Joe Jr. saw
my
dad in Pasadena. (The big difference, though, was that I didn’t fire
his
father.)

On December 7, 1989, Mr. Tkach Sr. was on campus for a groundbreaking ceremony. The day was cold, cloudy and damp—which, as I look back on it now, seems fitting—considering what finally came of their big ideas for Big Sandy.

The church and the college had been going through so many changes—reopening Big Sandy, pursuing accreditation, closing Pasadena, etc. More and more of the church’s focus had centered on the Big Sandy campus. Mr. Tkach wrote in the December 19, 1989,
PGR
:

Under careful study is also the possibility of moving one or more major departments of the work to Big Sandy, where costs of construction are significantly less than in Pasadena, and cost of housing would be considerably more affordable for our employees.
⁷

They actually gave strong consideration to moving headquarters from Pasadena to Big Sandy. He continued, “If God leads me to see that some parts of the work should be relocated in Texas, sale of any resulting unused facilities here would also help in the costs of building there.” As it turns out, there actually was something to those rumors we had been hearing in Pasadena earlier in the year. Mr. Tkach even acknowledged the rumor mill in his column: “Now I realize that such moves may sound drastic at first to some (though I understand
rumors have been circulating for months
).” According to the report, Mr. Tkach had commissioned a “careful and detailed feasibility study” on the possibility of such a move back in the spring of 1988.
⁸
No wonder rumors had been circulating.

Later, Mr. Tkach said, “Big Sandy has served as a second headquarters for decades,” which wasn’t true. It might have been a second Ambassador College
campus
—but certainly not a second headquarters. It became obvious where Mr. Tkach was headed. “I believe God is now leading me to see that a consolidation of as many of our resources, personnel and operations as possible at our less expensive facility may make good sense in preparation for the bumpy economic times ahead,” he said. The church was, after all, in the midst of a financial crisis in 1989.

He went on to explain that Mr. Armstrong himself moved headquarters from Oregon to California back in the 1940s. “God’s headquarters has moved numerous times since the days of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness.” Thus, “if any departmental moves occur, they won’t represent the first time headquarters operations have moved.”
⁹

Indeed, plans for this move were already well underway by the time Mr. Tkach informed the church of the “possible option” in December of 1989. The
WCG
had been busy buying parcels of land around its 1,600-acre campus in preparation for the massive move. Numerous buildings were being designed by architects. In 1990, the church hurriedly built nine new structures in Big Sandy, including five student residences and a 350-seat lecture hall.

But the centerpiece of this building program was the Hall of Administration—a three-story office building situated at the end of the main entrance on campus. This building, once the move was complete, would become the church’s new headquarters.

What I find most remarkable about this history is that the very day Mr. Tkach broke ground on a new headquarters in Big Sandy, the church’s headquarters actually did move—but not to Big Sandy. On December 7, 1989, the
real
ground-breaking ceremony took place in Pasadena, California—inside Joseph Tkach Jr.’s office. On that day, Tkach Jr. fired my father and John Amos.

That’s the day headquarters moved from Pasadena, California, to Edmond, Oklahoma.

“I believe the church disfellowshiped me unjustly. Mr. Tkach didn’t even talk to me, even when this was the weightiest of all decisions affecting my fate in this church.”

— Gerald Flurry

Letter to Ralph Helge, December 21, 1989

Though I didn’t know it at the time of the groundbreaking ceremony on that rainy afternoon, my father and Mr. Amos were en route to Pasadena. Tkach Jr. had called the house that morning, December 7, demanding that my father and Mr. Amos be on a plane to California that very day if they had any hope of retaining their jobs.

After arriving in Los Angeles late in the afternoon on December 7, they checked in at Holiday Inn Pasadena. That night, for over four hours, they went round and round with Joseph Tkach Jr. and Michael Feazell. During that meeting, my father came to see that the situation inside the Worldwide Church of God was actually far worse than he had realized.

My father complained about
Mystery of the Ages
being discontinued and the
TV
program getting weaker. “So let me see if I understand what you are saying,” Tkach said, dissecting my dad’s comments. “You’re saying that you can run the church better than my father can.” They kept turning it into a personality thing because debating the real issues only exposed their true intentions. But my father stayed on point, persistently asking why
Mystery of the Ages
had been removed, which led to Joe Jr.’s astonishing “riddled with error” outburst.

Suffice it to say, there was no compromise on either side that night. Shortly before midnight, Joseph Tkach Jr.—a man who had been employed by the church for three years—fired and excommunicated my father and John Amos. At his deposition, Tkach Jr. acknowledged that it was entirely his decision to fire these two long-time ministers on the spot. His father, the pastor general of the church, was not aware of the firings until after they had already happened.
¹

Upon leaving Tkach Jr.’s office that night, my father prophetically warned Tkach, “This is the first sip of a very bitter cup you are going to have to drink.” Quite a parting shot from a man who had just been fired! My father also assured Mr. Tkach that he would be one of the first ones to receive the manuscript, as soon as it was completed and printed.

Like No Other Human

On the disfellowship notice filed the next day, Tkach Jr. wrote that he fired my father for “heretical doctrinal differences.”
²
(The same reason he gave for disfellowshiping my mother.) At his deposition in 1998, in trying to explain what this meant, he said my father “was meeting with church members and asking them to give donations to him .…”
³
This wasn’t true at all.

Later, he attributed this preposterous assertion to my father: “He claimed that he was being used by God in a unique way, different from any other human ever to have lived .…”
⁴
As bizarre as that statement is, Tkach repeated it two more times at his deposition. Later, when asked if Mr. Flurry was disfellowshiped for engaging in heresy, Tkach answered, “Well, when someone tells you that they are being used by God in a way that no other human who has ever lived is being used, I would consider that to be a bit on the heresy side.” And later, “Claims that you are uniquely used by God in a role historically different from any other human in all of history, I considered pretty heretical.”
⁵

This was Joe Jr., the psychologist, at his best. Of course, my father never said anything like that during their meeting. But this was Mr. Tkach’s
interpretation
of what my dad said. After all,
Gerald Flurry
criticized the pastor general of the Worldwide Church of God. He wrote a paper in which he set out to explain
why,
from a biblical perspective, the changes were happening. He believed God inspired his paper.
Therefore, he must think he’s the most important man to have ever lived on this Earth!
How ridiculous.

The irony is that Mr. Tkach Jr. has taken great pride in trumpeting the
WCG
’s transformation out of “Armstrongism” as something that is “unprecedented” in the history of religion. There has never been an instance in the history of religion where an unorthodox religious sect has transformed itself from a “cult” to a mainstream Christian denomination. Where would the Worldwide Church of God—in fact,
Christianity
—be today without the heroic and historically unique courage of Tkachism?

Oklahoma City Congregation

The same day my father and Mr. Amos traveled to Pasadena for their meeting with Joe Jr., Arnold Clauson, the previous pastor in Oklahoma City, was en route from Cape Girardeau, Missouri, to Oklahoma City to announce the firing before my father’s congregations. (He actually left for Oklahoma City before my dad even arrived to Joe Jr.’s office.)

On Friday evening, December 8, Mr. Clauson arranged to meet with all the elders and their wives as well as one deacon from my dad’s territory.

On Saturday, Mr. Clauson read the announcement about the excommunication before the Oklahoma City and Enid congregations. According to Clauson, the brethren were “totally shocked” by the news. “[M]ost had no idea anything of this nature was going on,” he wrote to Mr. Tkach Jr.
⁶
This squares with what Dean Blackwell, sent from Pasadena to Oklahoma City the following week, also admitted—that my dad’s congregations were left in stable condition.

Mr. Clauson did note these two areas of concern that some members had picked up in conversing with my dad and Mr. Amos: “1) Questioning Mr. Armstrong’s literature being dropped from circulation and/or being updated, and 2) the weakness of the
World Tomorrow
telecast.” Later, he wrote that my dad and Mr. Amos

apparently asked several members, especially those who came to counsel about this and that, to go back and re-read
Mystery of the Ages
,
The Incredible Human Potential
, The Book of Revelation Unveiled at Last,
and the
Autobiography,
and then get back to them with comments.
⁷

Imagine that—recommending members read Mr. Armstrong’s most important and effective book. How telling Clauson’s report is. In many ways, the church had already been transformed.

Ralph Helge’s First Sip

On the day of the firing, Ralph Helge wrote my father and demanded that he return any church member mailing lists he may have acquired over the years as a field minister.

Should you fail to abide by the demands contained in this letter within five (5) days, we will have no alternative but to consider filing suit against you and all other persons involved in the removal and misuse of these confidential materials and to seek an injunction against your continued possession and use of these materials, as well as all other appropriate relief, including an award of punitive damages.
⁸

This type of language from Helge is something we became quite familiar with years later in our
Mystery of the Ages
lawsuit.

On December 11, 1989, Mr. Tkach Jr. followed up Helge’s threat by sending my dad a proposed “assistance agreement and release.” He wrote,

As you understand, Mr. Flurry, late last week you were dismissed from your employment as a minister of the church, disfellowshiped as a member, and your ministerial credentials revoked, because of what the church considers as your adherence to heretical convictions, spreading of the same among members of the church and your refusal to repent thereof. …

As you know, your employment was for no set term and terminable “at will” at any time, by either you or the employer with or without cause. According to the practice of the employer, your termination does not entitle you to any type of severance pay or other post-employment benefits.

As a matter of Christian love, however, the employer is desirous of helping you now that your employment with the employer has ended.
⁹

But before he could receive the “Christian love” offering of $6,160, my father had to sign off on five conditions. For instance, the
WCG
wanted written release from any and all possible liability, like wrongful termination. They also expected him to return church stationery and business cards, ministerial manuals, his ordination certificate, all church equipment and furniture, and any written or computer-generated records that pertained to church membership.

On December 21, 1989, my dad informed Mr. Helge that he had decided to reject the $6,160 “assistance.” He, nevertheless, agreed to return everything except his computer and his ordination certificate. The computer, he wrote, “will help me in getting future employment.” Regarding the certificate, he said the church had no right to take it. “I believe the church disfellowshiped me unjustly,” he wrote. “Mr. Tkach [Sr.] didn’t even talk to me, even when this was the weightiest of all decisions affecting my fate in this church.”
¹⁰

Mr. Helge responded one week later and said he would discuss the matter with Mr. Tkach Jr. On January 23, 1990, Tkach Jr. sent my dad another release form, only this time, “as a matter of Christian love,” they offered my dad a computer in return for his signature!
¹¹
It was virtually the same form, with much of the same language, only instead of offering the $6,160 in love, they offered an ibm-compatible computer. My dad decided to keep the computer and the ordination certificate and not sign the release. The
WCG
did not pursue the matter any further.

It is interesting, looking back, that Mr. Tkach Sr. never once communicated with my dad during this whole ordeal. For the most part, Tkach Jr. and Helge handled the situation. And seven years later, when the
WCG
filed suit against us over printing
Mystery of the Ages
,
Tkach Sr. would again be missing from the equation, having died of cancer in 1995. The two principle players, without question, in the case brought against us in 1997, were Joseph Tkach Jr. and Ralph Helge.

Neither of them would have admitted back in 1989 that the situation they were dealing with was only the first sip of a bitter cup they would have to drink.

Small Beginning

My sister quit her job at Church Administration in Pasadena the day my dad was fired. She flew home the next day, using my father’s plane ticket. My father, in turn, drove home in my sister’s yellow pickup (which had now become the family car). He needed that three-day drive, halfway across country, to sort things out in his mind. So much had happened so fast. There were times when he just parked the car alongside the road so he could get out and walk for a while. On the one hand, he had never been more discouraged. The Tkaches were ruining the church he had devoted his life to. But he also believed that God had revealed the answer to why these things had happened. It was found within a manuscript that only a handful of people had even seen.

I was at the house the day my dad arrived—Sunday, December 10. (I came home for the weekend from college in Big Sandy after hearing that he was fired.) In waiting for him to arrive, I remember fretting over what I would say and how I could encourage him. When he walked in the door that afternoon, we were prepared to uplift him, as best we could, knowing he had just endured the most difficult trial of his life. Yet it was the other way around: It was actually
my dad
who lifted our spirits. My mom and I, at that point, were technically still associated with the
WCG
. (My sister severed her ties the day he was fired.) And yet, here was this fired, former minister of the
WCG
encouraging us!

My father, though tired and emotionally drained, had had three days to mourn the sad state of the Worldwide Church of God. He was now firm in his resolve to do something about the problem—to get his manuscript ready for printing—to warn as many who would listen that the church had drifted into the Laodicean era. This realization gave him a great sense of purpose and hope, motivated by relaxed faith—a firm belief that he was doing the right thing.

I left for Big Sandy that night as excited as I’ve ever been. I was beginning to see that God would not stand idly by and watch His church fade into nothingness. God always warns in love. And if that warning had to be delivered through my dad, better him than no one.

The First Printing

Two other families who had no prior knowledge of the manuscript immediately offered their support for my father and Mr. Amos. Together, these four families—just 12 people—met for the Philadelphia Church of God’s first service on December 16.

On Wednesday, December 20, with the help of two other church members, Tim and Melody Thompson, the
PCG
became an incorporated entity. Back in Big Sandy, I clearly remember my surprised reaction to the news that the church was incorporated.
They only have 12 people,
I thought to myself.
How could they already consider themselves to be an official church?
At the time, I was planning to leave school at the end of the semester. But I hadn’t yet fully committed to the
PCG
.

When I got home on Thursday, December 28, I could see that this little group of people had been working at a breakneck pace—especially my dad and Tim Thompson. Mr. Thompson entered my dad’s typewritten manuscript into a word processor. He, my father and Mr. Amos then worked to proofread, edit and lay out a final version.

I started working my old high school job at Kinko’s. Sometime during the second week of January 1990, I took a finished printout of
Malachi’s Message
with me to work. Mr. Amos and my dad had accumulated over 900 addresses of
WCG
ministers and members—the bulk of which were from the areas around Oklahoma City and Columbus, Ohio (Mr. Amos’s previous pastoral assignment).