Upsetting The ‘Church-Ladies’—Part 4: Pastor Gets A Tune Up
What happens when the pastor refuses to dance to the church-ladies' tune?
*My apologies for the delay in posting this fourth installment. Juggling a lot right now.
Introduction
In my previous post, I addressed the dirty politics of Todd the Politician—Immanuel’s status-craving elder whose only qualification for leading the church is him being male. Today, I turn my attention to Immanuel’s other elder—a bonafide ‘white-knight’ defending his reviling ‘church-lady’ wife against the ‘evil male chauvinist’ (that would be me, naturally.) who tried to hold her accountable. I’m going deep in the weeds on this one—because that’s where the belligerent Baptist Boomer beatdown took place.
When Immanuel Baptist Church (in Rossville, Georgia), called me as their teaching pastor in December of 2024, attendance was down to less than 20 people, and the elders were talking seriously about closing the doors if things didn’t turn around. Immanuel made a one-year commitment to me, with an understanding that—depending on how things went—they might not be able to pay me after that.
Perhaps, it goes without saying—all parties were desperate. After being fired and blacklisted in ministry, my wife and I were desperate for a place to live and for a chance to rebuild our lives from the ruins—and Immanuel was desperate for a sucker.
My salary was paid, in large part, by a generous church member (couple) who, essentially, served as my benefactor. Amanda and I will always be grateful for the way God used their generosity in our lives to keep us afloat during a very difficult time. Regrettably, my benefactor also served as my fellow elder, which means we had an entangled ‘dual’ relationship—one that increasingly led to entitlement and frustration on his part. As the saying goes, “He who pays the pastor calls the tune.” Sadly, when I refused to dance to their tune, this elder and his wife decided to give me a tune up.
In the end, my benefactor(s) led the charge to have me fired and evicted from the parsonage. They took nearly everything from us—reputation, income, housing, my wife’s health—and they tried to take our marriage. In all of this, my fellow elder postured himself as an “impartial” leader who was ‘just doing his job.’ In this post, I want to make plain that their effort to have me fired was done under false pretense, out of personal malice. They manipulated the members of Immanuel, at every turn, in order to get my head on a platter.
The Run-Up to the Tune-Up
Nine months into my pastorate (September)—with church attendance, finances, and morale all going in the wrong direction (following months of conflict instigated by ‘Todd the Politician.’)—my fellow elder and I agreed that, if things didn’t turn around by year’s end, we’d recommend to the church body that we close the doors.
Up until this point, I was on good terms with my co-elder and his wife. They stood by me while Todd tried to turn the entire church against me. I would remain in their good graces, so far as I knew, up until eleven days before I was fired. In fact, just days before things turned south, this elder had urged me to start applying to other churches (anticipating that Immanuel would close), assuring me that I would have a strong ‘elder’s reference’ from him. And days before that, this elder and his wife took Amanda and I out to lunch, where they shared that, should Immanuel close, they would recommend that the church bless us with ten thousand dollars—a gift which they said they would personally match. This planned gift of twenty-thousand dollars was to help us land on our feet. I share all of that to say that, up until the eleventh hour, this elder was very much in my corner.
With just under four months left to show some signs of life, things looked pretty bleak for Immanuel. I decided to narrow my focus in two directions—I would continue to shepherd the small, elderly flock God had given me, and I would go all in on a strategy to reach young men with young families. In hindsight, I should have known that you can’t pour new wine into old wine skin—not just because it ruins both, but also because Baptists really hate alcohol!
Lamentably, the ‘church-ladies’ caught wind that I had a few men over to my house for beer and cigars—leaving some of them exceedingly scandalized, and others upset that they weren’t invited. The important thing is that they were all upset, and high levels of ‘concern’ were spread far and wide.
Three days later, my fellow-elder knocked on the door—and he was livid. Mind you, he was not upset about ‘beer and cigars’—he had no personal issue with that. He was angry, because, according to him, I “went rogue.” Nonetheless—as I’d soon come to find out—this unscrupulous elder was more than willing to use “beer and cigars’ (and any other ‘church-lady’ concern he could gin up) to put me in my place.
After raking me over the coals for several minutes, he informed me that Immanuel was having a special called meeting later that very night to discuss everything. As we sat there on my porch, I told him, matter-of-factly: “If you go forward with this meeting, I’m not going to have a job afterwards.” In anger, he retorted—“That’s on you!”
“Dance, Monkey, Dance”—So Went The Struggle Session
The member’s meeting went about how I expected it to go—it was yet another Baptist Boomer ‘struggle-session’ where I spent about forty-five minutes answering contrived ‘offenses’ from the ‘church-ladies,’ capped off by my bitter benefactor berating me in front of everyone.
He accused me of “abandoning the flock” on account of my personal outreach to men. From the podium, he pointed emphatically towards the parsonage (where I held my infamous men’s fellowship), saying—“That’s not your flock!” Then he pointed out at the members in the sanctuary, saying—“This is your flock!”
(Never mind that, over the course of my short ten-month ministry, I made regular visits to the members of Immanuel and hosted regular church fellowships in the parsonage. My door was always open. I was always available. My wife and I routinely had members in our home for meals and for Biblical counseling. We took meals to those sick and shut in. Every Sunday, I preached for 40+ minutes and led the entire worship liturgy, including the singing. (I went ten straight months without missing a single Sunday, not even when Amanda spent a week in the hospital.) I also led the mid-week Bible Study and prayer meeting (only missed once). Behind the scenes, I planned the weekly services, produced the bulletins, published a weekly church newsletter, did all of the church branding, website creation, social media promotions. I was the point person for all maintenance and plumbing issues. In short, I was a one-man band that did anything and everything that was asked of me—all for part-time pay. Yet, because I made an extra effort on top of all of that (on my own time, on my own dime) to reach men—I somehow had “abandoned the flock.”)
A few days after the meeting, my co-elder emailed me a list of four stipulations that I would need to agree to in order to maybe keep my job. As he was careful to convey—my compliance did not guarantee I’d keep my job, but my non-compliance guaranteed I would certainly lose it.
The stipulations read as follows: “[1] restrictions on your having beer and cigar meetings on church property [parsonage], [2] no more unilateral decisions by you, [3] a desire to see humility in you, [4] apologize for misleading the church by changing your name on your resume.”
As I address these stipulations, my aim is to demonstrate that this entire charade was all a bogus attempt, by my benefactors, to humiliate me and put me in my place—a personal crusade, born out of petty grievances, posing as principled leadership. This was their version of “Dance, Monkey, Dance!”—and when I refused to dance, the real monkey business began, which, ended with me hanging from the tree.
This Was Personal & Due Process Was A Bullet
Falsely Accused of ‘Lacking Humility’
I want to first address the vague accusation that I “lack humility,” because this gets us to the crux of the matter—the backstory, if you will, which reveals ulterior motives.
When my fellow elder showed up at my door to rake me over the coals, one of the things he accused me of was being “arrogant” and “lacking humility.” What was the basis for his accusation? Well, in his own words (to me), “You never apologized for being super rude to [my wife]!” As it turns out, that’s what all of this is about—I had offended a ‘church-lady,’ and in typical ‘white-knight’ fashion, my fellow-elder was defending his damsel in distress.
He further asserted that I had done things to him, as well, that I had “never apologized for.” In other words, this was all deeply personal to him, and in a moment of anger, he let his mask slip. Underneath the guise of ‘impartial’ judge—there lurked a deeply-held grudge.
While I don’t know all of the reasons my benefactors turned against me, I will share two instances, here, (and a third later) that he specifically addressed me over—and I’ll explain why I did not apologize in those instances, and why it would have been wrong to do so.
Instance One: “Super Rude to [my wife]!”
On one occasion, my co-elder and I were discussing a matter, just the two of us, when his wife suddenly barged in and rudely interrupted her husband; cutting him off mid-sentence, to interject her own thoughts. Rather than redirect my attention to her, I kept my focus on my fellow elder, waiting for him to finish his thoughts. I wasn’t rude about. Just principled. I showed him the due respect which his wife had failed to show him.
As I came to find out, this greatly upset her, and a week later, he told me I owed her an apology. I offered him a sincere explanation, and respectfully tried to shepherd him towards a better understanding of the matter so that he, in turn, might shepherd his wife. He didn’t respond in the moment, but appeared to be taking matters to heart. I genuinely thought he agreed and that the matter was closed. He never said another word about it until three months later when he jumped down my throat and led the charge to have me fired.
The reason I did not apologize to his wife, is because I had not sinned against his wife. Demanding an apology for something that isn’t sinful is a form of manipulation and blame-shift, and it’s wrong to go along with such coercion. In this matter, the elder’s wife was the one in sin and in need of repentance—both for her blatant disrespect towards her husband, and for her subsequent anger towards me.
Anyone who’s spent any amount of time around this married couple knows she routinely interrupts, and even scolds her husband in public. Amanda and I witnessed this too many times to count. Over the course of ten months, I very patiently tried to shepherd them on this, but they spurned my correction.
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Little did I know, this incident was simmering in both their hearts, and on the day of the members’ meeting, it was specifically over this personal matter that my fellow elder angrily charged me with “lacking humility.” This is one of the petty grievances that drove him and his wife in their personal vendetta.
Instance Two: Refusing To Exclude A Family From Fellowship
When I arrived at Immanuel, it was typical for a group to go out for lunch following Sunday service. (Yes, I, too, agree this is not a good practice on the Sabbath, and we were in the process of changing that.) We had two members who had recently returned to Immanuel after a long absence, and I wanted to include them—so, on two separate occasions, I invited them to join us. This upset my fellow elder. He was in the habit of ‘picking up the tab’ for the entire group, and he expressed his frustration with me for inviting these two people, because he felt it presumed upon his generosity. As I explained to him, I couldn’t very well exclude this family when everyone else was invited—that would constitute ‘sinful partiality.’ Furthermore, I explained to my co-elder that I was not expecting him to pay for their meals. In fact, on the first occasion, I personally picked up their tab, and on the second occasion, they tried to pay their own meal ticket.
There was no reasoning with my fellow elder in this matter. The following week, he informed me that he and his wife would no longer be joining any groups to eat out on Sundays. He was clearly upset, and I think it’s safe to say this is another instance for which he accused me of not apologizing—and, therefore, not showing humility.
In reality, I was simply shepherding the flock, and (as respectfully as possible) refusing to participate in sinful partiality. In this instance, it is my fellow elder who lacked humility. This is a pattern I observed with him—several times, he hastily jumped to a wrong conclusion on a matter and refused to change his mind (and attitude) once clarification was offered.
In summary, my fellow elder (and his wife) framed my unwillingness to apologize for their sin as evidence that I lacked humility. In reality, it wasn’t my humility they were after; rather, my humiliation—they wanted to watch me grovel in order to appease their anger and stroke their pride. When I refused to grovel—they had me fired.
As I’ll address later, these two deceitfully went house to house, ahead of my firing, to solicit similar criticisms from the ‘church-ladies’ in order to bolster their own contrived complaints. As Paul Harvey put it, “Now you know the rest of the story”—and the rest of this farce will make far more sense now.
Branded As A “Beer-Swilling” Scofflaw
Like the rest of the four “stipulations”—“Restrictions on your having beer and cigar meetings on church property”—is worded so as to insinuate something false. Without context, the accusation makes it sound like I held a keg party in the church parking lot, or a smoke-filled poker night in the fellowship hall. In reality, I hosted three men, for a private fellowship in my own home (the parsonage), and we responsibly enjoyed some beer and cigars in my private backyard, under the quiet cover of night, while discussing matters of faith. Honestly, it was one of the sweetest fellowships I had last year.
Unfortunately, after decades of ruling the roost in their own homes, Immanuel’s meddlesome madams mistakenly thought they might, as well, tell me what I could or couldn’t do in my home. I patiently tried to explain that beer and cigars are not inherently sinful, and that what I do in the privacy of my own home (or backyard), on my own time, so long as it’s not sin, is not a matter of church business. I tried to reason with everyone that Jesus drank wine regularly, choosing wine as the symbol of our redemption, and that the great Baptist preacher, Charles Spurgeon, smoked cigars, even as Martin Luther drank beer—all to the glory of God.
I made it clear that I would not submit to their sinful overreach into my personal life—not just because I enjoy smoking and drinking in moderation, and not just because the restrictions would limit my practice of hospitality—but also out of principle; namely, to uphold liberty of conscience.
On this point, Immanuel Baptist Church was guilty of glaring disregard for their own confessional statement (1689). Section 21.2 of the London Baptist Confession reads: “God alone is Lord of the conscience, and he has left it free from human doctrines and commandments that are in any way contrary to his word or not contained in it… Requiring implicit faith or absolute and blind obedience destroys liberty of conscience and reason as well.”
Their attempted prohibition of alcohol within the privacy of my home showed one thing very clearly—the ‘church-ladies’ were deliriously drunk on their own passions, believing themselves to be both the heads of my house and the lords of my conscience. They desperately needed someone to take away their bottle.
Unfortunately, in the very moment when Immanuel most needed leadership—my fellow-elder left me holding the bag. He stood there, with his hands in his pockets, playing the “impartial” moderator, while the sanctuary filled with the intoxicant of ‘concern’ over the pastor drinking a few beers.
It was hypocrisy of the highest order—as my co-elder and his wife, by their own admission, drink wine regularly, and he smoked a pipe for years. Furthermore, when my wife was having trouble sleeping, he gave her a wine glass and instructed her to drink wine nightly before bed. He and I even had discussions about eventually using wine for communion. He was for it. In short, my co-elder had no moral issues with smoking the occasional tobacco or drinking in moderation—he partook of both. Yet, he said nothing in my defense, or in the defense of truth. As the butch lesbian poet, Adrienne Rich, put it, “Lying is done with words, and also with silence.”
Rather than shepherd a bunch of sanctimonious teetotalers in a more sober-minded direction on the issue of alcohol and Christian liberty, my fellow elder used the opportunity to gin up the ‘church-ladies’ and wield them against me. He did this because he and his wife were punch-drunk on revenge.
Falsely Accused of Autocratic Leadership
This stipulation of “no more unilateral decisions by you” was in response to my personal outreach efforts to men. The accusations that I acted “unliterally”—or that I “went rogue”—are incredibly false and misleading.
For context, in my first few months at Immanuel, I organized a church-sanctioned outreach to men (that was approved by church vote), but it was later met with criticism and resistance, so I discontinued it. Then I tried to undertake a personal outreach to men, that was separate from the church, but one of our elders (Todd the Politician) tried to have me fired over it (here), causing a huge controversy. That firestorm had blown over just four months earlier, and Immanuel was still reeling from the impact.
It was now the eleventh hour, and in order for Immanuel to have a future, I knew I needed to resume my efforts to reach men with families (or future families), and bring them together around a compelling vision for a revitalized church. As Pastor Michael Foster (and numerous others) have noted, “If you reach the men, women and children will follow.”
Once again, I went through proper channels and pitched the idea for a men’s outreach to my co-elder, but he said it wasn’t the right focus for the church. The truth is, he’d been battling a heart condition for several years, and the months’ long controversy (instigated by Todd) had significantly worsened his condition. In reality, he was simply too exhausted to serve as an elder, much less to lead a revitalization effort—especially one that made the ‘church-ladies’ nervous. It was clear he was resigned to closing the doors.
The important thing to note—is that my co-elder knew about my personal outreach to men, and I had his permission and blessing to pursue it. His exact words were—“Keep it separate from the church.” (A fact he acknowledged in the member’s meeting.)
I had no issue with that stipulation. In fact, previous efforts to drive traffic directly to Immanuel had proven a failed strategy. We received dozens of first-time visitors last year, but very few returned for a second visit. The hard truth is that our guests were left underwhelmed by Immanuel’s ‘nursing-home’ levels of enthusiasm—which had less to do with our median age, and more to do with a handful of pouting ‘church-ladies’ (of both sexes) with “#NotMyPastor” stamped across their sullen faces.
With all of that in mind, I created a Facebook event for a men’s fellowship and ran an ad to promote it for several weeks—all on a personal Facebook page that was separate from Immanuel. The Facebook ad linked to a simple website which I created to cast vision for reviving a declining church (the very thing Immanuel had called me to do). Again, to reiterate—all of this was kept separate from the church, per my co-elder’s dictates. This effort wasn’t announced from the pulpit, published in the bulletin, or in any way affiliated with Immanuel.
In all of this, I was simply trying to keep the doors open—to give Immanuel a future. I was following the strategy that our LORD Jesus employed when he recruited twelve men and devoted concentrated energy into raising up a ‘band of brothers’—future elders, deacons, and churchmen with the courage and conviction to lead the church in a godly direction.
Within a matter of two to three weeks, I had fifteen men express interest in attending the men’s fellowship in my home—and three who actually attended. My ad also generated several opportunities to grab lunch or coffee with men who were interested in the vision I had cast. All in all, it was a very impactful outreach, and definitely something I could build on—but alas, it was short lived. The next thing I knew, my fellow elder was at my door angrily accusing me of “going rogue” and of “abandoning the flock”—and the ‘church-ladies’ were squawking about me making “unilateral” decisions.
As I made clear, during the members’ meeting—a “unilateral decision” would imply that I made an independent decision in a church matter. My personal outreach efforts were not a church matter—they were done on my own time, on my own dime—and that with my co-elder’s blessing.
I explained to everyone that what I did was akin to one of them inviting some neighbors over for dinner, or perhaps organizing a neighborhood Christmas Party—it was simply not something that required a church vote.
It’s telling that, weeks earlier, when a group of five church-ladies got together and organized their own impromptu women’s fellowship—no one accused them of ‘going rogue.’ There was no ‘emergency’ member’s meeting called to put a stop to it.
It was clear the ‘church-ladies’ wanted me, their pastor, either completely under their thumb—or flicked away like a booger. The one thing they wouldn’t abide was me leading without their constant oversight and permission. They demonstrated that they didn’t actually want a pastor—they wanted a waiter; someone to take their orders.
The irony is that, on the (Sun)day I was fired, I had two men planning to bring their families to Immanuel (and a third family planning to attend in the weeks ahead)—specifically because of my personal men’s outreach. Additionally, three other men who had previously visited Immanuel, but said it wasn’t for them, reached out and told me they wanted to give Immanuel another try. By my count, that’s five families, eleven adults, and nearly the same number of children, all planning to plug in with Immanuel—after just one outreach. In hindsight—they dodged a bullet.
Digging Up The Past To Bury My Future
The stipulation that I must “apologize for misleading the church by changing your name on your resume,” is, once again, premised upon a misleading accusation—this time insinuating that I engaged in trickery on my resume—perhaps to dodge the law or hide something sinful from my past. I’ve already addressed the issue of my “changing” my name, so if you missed that, go here.
By way of summary—after going by my middle name for 43 years, I made a decision to adopt my first name moving forward. I did this to overcome extensive internet defamation that had resulted in my being fired from my previous pastorate and passed over by four subsequent churches. In a word—it had rendered me unhireable as a pastor within ‘normie’ evangelicalism, and at a loss for how to earn a living. As I’ve said before, I was not hiding anything sinful I had done—rather, I was hiding something sinful done to me.
Regardless of what anyone may think about my ethics in the matter, it’s a matter of fact that neither my fellow elder, nor the remaining members of Immanuel Baptist Church expressed any concerns to me about this matter in the four months after it was disclosed—not until the very end, when they needed some extra logs on the fire to help me dance!
Once again, this was a proxy issue and a thinly veiled cover for my benefactor’s personal gripe. I know this to be the case because my fellow elder tipped his hand in the matter, twice—both to me and to everyone else at Immanuel. As he said to me, in private, ahead of the members’ meeting, and again, in front of everyone, during the meeting—“I stood by you, wholeheartedly, and you left me hanging!” So what was he talking about?
For context—four months before I was fired, this same elder presided over a formal disciplinary hearing for another elder (Todd). There was a moment during that hearing—as my benefactor was pressing Todd to repent—where my benefactor suddenly pointed at me and exclaimed, “[Pastor] is repentant!”
There was an awkward pause, where he was evidently waiting for me to back him up; to answer something along the lines of—“Yes, that’s right. I’m very sorry for what I’ve done. [ie. concealing parts of my past].” Much to his chagrin, I answered, “Well, I don’t believe I’ve done something wrong, in this matter, to repent of.” He never said a word about that incident, until four months later, when he furiously told me—“You left me hanging!”
The truth is, my co-elder and I had met for about an hour, the day before that hearing, to prepare—and at no point in our meeting, or in any prior meeting, had he ever expressed to me that he thought I had done something wrong, or that I needed to repent. To the contrary, he told me (multiple times)—and also told the entire church—that he had consulted with another pastor, whom he greatly respects, and was told, “Had I been in [Pastor’s] shoes, I would have done exactly the same thing.” [ie. adopt his first name and do whatever necessary to overcome internet defamation and provide for his family].”
In contradiction to everything this elder had communicated to me, privately, and to the church, publicly—he put me on the spot expecting me to feign a fake “repentance” in order to help him score points against a man on trial, and, perhaps, to appease one or two ‘church-ladies.’ This was an underhanded, coercive tactic (a pattern with this elder)—and I respectfully declined to go along.
This incident was clearly at the forefront of his mind when he led the charge to have me fired. During the special called member’s meeting, where I was informally put on trial—he stated, emphatically, from the podium: “You left me hanging! I stood by you, whole-heartedly, and you left me hanging!”
Despite claiming to be an “impartial” moderator, he was clearly on the war path to pay me back for his own personal, petty grievances. If anyone lacks humility (and honesty) in these matters, it’s my benefactor.
The truth is, some four months before I was fired, I had stood before the entire church and told them that if they felt I had betrayed their trust [by concealing parts of my past, ie. defamation, wrongful termination.], I was willing to resign immediately, or, alternatively, to remain as their interim pastor while they looked for a new pastor.
Furthermore, I told them I was willing to submit to a formal disciplinary hearing if there was any remaining concern that I had done something to merit that measure.
The simple fact of the matter is that not one person breathed a single word of concern—until four months later, when my benefactors cooked up a buffet of “reasons” for serving my head on a platter. The ugly truth of that matter is that, because I ‘left him hanging’ my co-elder was hell-bent on leaving me hanging—by the neck.
Blatant Disregard For Due Process
To further substantiate my assertion that this was, indeed, a deeply personal headhunting expedition—consider the blatant disregard for bylaws and due process.
My fellow elder called a same-day members’ meeting and brought matters immediately before the church. According to Immanuel’s bylaws (Article XI: Section 2, pg 30), special meetings, in general, require at least two weeks’ notice. However, “In cases that require urgent and/or immediate action, the pastors may, when necessary, call for a meeting for information purposes, for an issue requiring immediate public censure or excommunication…” Apparently, upsetting the church-ladies constitutes “an issue requiring immediate public censure” and “urgent, immediate action.”
My benefactor’s sidestepping of standard procedure stands in stark contrast to how he handled the disciplinary hearing of Immanuel’s then former elder (Todd the Politician), just four months earlier. That man—despite being found guilty of sinfully opposing the ministry of Immanuel for nearly six months—was still afforded a generous due process, including four in-depth private meetings before matters were brought before the church following a standard two weeks’ notice. In contrast—although I was not brought under church discipline charges, I was not even afforded a single private meeting to discuss matters at length, and was given just hours’ notice, before matters were brought before the church.
In the brief ten minutes that we did meet ahead of the meeting, my co-elder accused me of ‘going rogue” on account of my undertaking a personal outreach to men. I tried to reason with him that—with Immanuel on the verge of closing its doors, and with a bunch of elderly people looking to us for decisive leadership—it was unreasonable to demand that I constantly ask them for permission to take any kind of initiative.
This unscrupulous elder then twisted my words and used them against me. During the meeting, he told all the members that I called them, “a bunch of old gray heads.” Those words never came out of my mouth, nor, at any point in my ministry, did I denigrate the members of Immanuel with any other words. This blatant lie, by my co-elder, pretty much sealed my fate. When he said it—you could hear audible gasps from the members.
Additionally, by their own admission, my co-elder and his wife drove to each member’s house on the day of the meeting—ostensibly, to deliver handouts. There was absolutely no reason those handouts couldn’t have been distributed at the start of the meeting. In reality, this elder and his wife were behaving like the gossips Paul warned about in I Timothy 5:13—“going about from house to house, and not only idlers, but also gossips and busybodies, saying what they should not.”
As my benefactor mounted the podium, to moderate the meeting, he told everyone that he was “impartial” on the matters at hand, and that he simply wanted to hear what everyone else had to say. Naturally, as the questions and accusations began to fly, it was painfully obvious that very clear talking points had been circulated by Immanuel’s ‘busybody’ elder (and his wife).
If there’s any doubt remaining that this elder had tossed due process out the window—three days after the special called meeting, he and his wife held another members’ meeting—at their house, secretly, without notifying me until days later.
There are numerous other indicators of personal animosity, which I’ll get to momentarily. The bottom line is—under the pretense of ‘impartiality’—my petty patrons maliciously incited a senior social stampede to trample me under foot. As John Wayne once put it, “Out here, due process is a bullet.”
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The Tune Up
As I said at the outset—‘he who pays the pastor calls the tune,’—and when I refused to dance to their tune, my benefactors decided to tune me up. The last thing my benefactor’s wife ever said to me was—“You don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” Days later, they took nearly everything from us—reputation, income, housing, my wife’s health—and they tried to take our marriage.
My Reputation
My co-elder and his wife went to great lengths to convince everyone that I was a “male chauvinist.” I know this to be a fact for four reasons.
Firstly, during the members’ meeting, two of the main complaints, or ‘concerns’ about my men’s gathering were: “Why were no women invited?” and “Was this an anti-female meeting?” This ridiculous idea was disseminated by my elder and his wife.
Secondly, days before I was fired, the elder’s wife sent my wife a very long text insinuating that I was abusive and that she needed to escape from under me. (More on that momentarily).
Thirdly, someone from within Immanuel’s circle, who was very close to the situation, confirmed to me that I was painted, in no uncertain terms, as a “male chauvinist.” (their words). According to this person, that was one of the primary points conveyed, repeatedly, about me in the days after I was fired.
Fourthly, this is the ‘go-to’ smear anytime you need to rile up the ‘church-ladies’ and run off a ‘bad man’ from the church. This was the same play made by Todd the Politician months earlier, and it’s the same ploy I’ve faced at previous churches.
Nevermind that, in my short tenure as pastor, I cared diligently for the widows in our church, I protected a woman from a vicious dog (which Todd tried to have me fired over), and I gave an inordinate amount of my time to counseling troubled women in our church (always with someone else present).
For example, just weeks before maligning me to the church (and to my own wife) as a “male chauvinist,” this same elder’s wife sent my wife the following text praising me for my counseling of a woman in our church:
“[Your husband] and [my husband] talked with [female member]. She was receptive. I know I’m not telling you something that you don’t already know, but your husband was so kind to [female member]. He was so compassionate, understanding, sympathetic, just plain awesome in his dealings with her. It was impressive to watch and hear him speak to her with such a loving spirit.”
Unfortunately, for me—and for many men in the church—once we find ourselves on the wrong side of a ‘church-lady,’ they, all to often, punch us below the belt by going after our reputations. Since going public with my ‘church-lady’ woes, I’ve heard from numerous men who have had their reputations destroyed, by baseless slander, after upsetting a ‘church-lady.’ As Jordan Peterson has noted, ““Female bullying can be unbelievably vicious…In women, it tends to take the expression of innuendo, gossip, and reputation destruction.”
My Income & Housing
According to official meeting minutes, my benefactor made a motion to terminate me “for a lack of confidence in his leadership.” Despite making multiple serious (contrived) accusations of sin, including pride and discrimination/mistreatment of women, (including my own wife), I was not brought under any formal charges of wrong doing. This is because my benefactors’ had zero evidence to support those false charges—and a formal church discipline hearing would have exposed their own sinful motives driving this personal vendetta.
They accomplished what they set out to do—they made me a stench in the nostrils of Immanuel’s members, and they got their majority vote for my head on a platter. Not a single member voted for me to keep my job, or for us to keep our home.
They gave us just 30 days to vacate the parsonage. This elder claimed it wasn’t personal, and that the 30 days’ notice was simply in keeping with the contract I signed. However, this, too, is false. No where did my contract state that I must vacate the parsonage within 30 days of termination. The contract actually states: “It is understood that the termination by either minister or church requires a 30-day notice, unless a shorter notice is mutually agreed upon.”
Firstly, the “30-day notice” refers specifically to termination of employment (as pastor), not to eviction from the parsonage. Those are not the same thing. Secondly, 30-days is the minimum requirement of my contract, meaning, if they wanted to, they absolutely could have given us more time to find a place to live.
Thankfully, Georgia state law requires landlords to provide no less than a 60-day notice to terminate fixed-term leases. Immanuel had agreed to support me as pastor for a fixed-term of no less than one year, and part of that support was housing. There was still nearly 90 days remaining in that term.
Let that sink in—our secular government shows more care and concern for its citizens than a church full of Baptist Boomers were willing to show to their own pastor and his sick wife. My fellow-elder knew, full well, that it was all but impossible to find housing in 30 days when they’d just taken away my paycheck. This was payback, plain and simple.
After I made an appeal to Immanuel’s interim pastor, he advocated, on my behalf, for the church to give us more time in the parsonage. They granted us an additional 60 days (to save face)—which proved just enough time for me to scour the surrounding three states for a landlord willing to rent to a tenant with no provable income. By this time, Todd the Politician had been re-instated as elder. He and my benefactor threatened me (both verbally, and in writing) with legal action if we were a day late in vacating the premises.
The sudden turn of events left us destitute—too broke to even move out of the parsonage. I was forced to take out a personal loan, with extremely high interest, just to cover the cost of moving and first month’s rent.
Even as I write this, Amanda and I are scraping by—selling possessions and doing without doctors and medicine—as we work to climb back onto our feet. I took the first entry level job I could find that was full-time—with a salary that doesn’t quite cover our basic needs or essential bills. God has miraculously sustained us, often through the generosity of other Christians, and often through inexplicable means (like an unexpected medical refund)—but it has not been easy. There’s a kind of chronic low-level panic that comes with living paycheck to paycheck and barely making ends meet.
My Wife’s Health
After being treated like a stray dog and kicked to the curb by our previous two churches (here), my wife was starving for love. Over the course of ten months at Immanuel, Amanda developed a very close relationship with my co-elder’s wife. This lady became like a mother-figure to Amanda—so when she sent her a malicious text that more or less encouraged her to separate from me and seek help, it was absolutely devastating. The trauma of that unspeakable betrayal triggered a severe stress-induced shingles outbreak, which began just hours after she received the menacing text.
The shingles spread across my wife’s face, neck, ear, the back of her head, and started to spread around her eyes (which can cause blindness). As anyone who’s ever had shingles knows—the blisters and scars are but the tip of the iceburg. The real pain is deep beneath the surface, where it feels like your nerves are on fire and crawling over broken-glass. Amanda couldn’t chew food without sharp stabbing sensations shooting through her jaw. She couldn’t lay her head on the pillow without excruciating pain pulsing in her ear and across the back of her head—pain which three prescription-strength pain meds barely touched. For about a month, Amanda hardly slept or ate. She mostly cried.
It’s no exaggeration to say that this illness, coupled with the emotional pain, brought my sweet wife to the brink of giving up. She was crushed. Even now, four months later, Amanda’s still taking pain medications (when we can afford them) to manage residual nerve pain, and she has panic attacks that come out of nowhere as we try to process the immense grief that comes from being tossed in the garbage can by two churches in the span of two years.
Our Marriage
One of the most sinister things a person could ever do is try to break up a marriage—yet, as I’ve come to learn, this is all too common in churches that are ruled over by unruly ‘church-ladies.’
It wasn’t enough to destroy my reputation, take away my income, and put us out of our house—this vicious, vindictive elder’s wife had to go after our marriage, too. In a last desperate attempt to pay me back, she sought to turn my own wife against me—to poison our marriage in hopes of getting Amanda to separate from me.
I won’t read all of the text (for now)—due to length, but the salient parts include: “My Dearest Amanda! …Everyone here loves you and is concerned for you, though we realize you have probably been given a very different perspective…There have probably also been things in your personal life that no one else knows about. I would know Amanda because I’ve been there myself. I’m talking about things that don’t add up, make sense, half-truths, manipulations, among countless other things….Please pray about this and search your heart…I know how isolated you can feel to be so far away from everyone and everything that is familiar to you. I would also hope that you would involve your mother…I’m hoping you will listen to my advice, because I only want what is best for my Dear Sister in Christ.”
For brevity, I’ll just point out two quick points, and then let my wife speak for herself:
One: my co-elder’s wife makes her devilish insinuation about me, despite having zero evidence—it’s all conjecture: “There have *probably* also been things in your personal life…”
Two: she’s clearly projecting her own experience onto our marriage: “I would know Amanda because I’ve been there myself.”
Three: bitter, misandric women like this abound in today’s church, and they pose a real threat that men need to be aware of—especially pastors or men in authority.
Amanda and I have experienced this a couple of times before. A woman who postures herself as being “super spiritual” and “super sweet” will work hard to gain access to your wife—often simply because your wife is a sweetheart and quite desirable as a friend, but sometimes, also because they want access to you as someone in a position of authority.
At first they will shower your wife (and you) with love and affection, often in the form of gifts, hospitality, and words of adoration—however, once they get cross with you, or come to view you as “toxic” for something you did to offend them (real or imaginary) they will leverage their “bond” with your wife to try to turn her against you.
The red-flag to watch for is that these women usually have a track record of refusing to submit to any kind of male headship. They often aren’t formal members of a church (and tend to bounce from one church to another). They show a pattern of disrespecting, and even reviling their own husbands, and they are prone to argue with men in general (either in person, or online).
It’s easier said than done in the church, but you need to protect your wife and your marriage from such women—because they will absolutely try to destroy you. If they succeed, you could lose everything. Even if they fail—your wife is often collateral damage.
I’m proud of my wife for standing up for herself, and for our marriage. I’ll let her have the final word. I won’t share her entire response to my co-elder’s conniving wife, as it, too, was lengthy—but suffice to say, Amanda showed far more maturity and class than the Boomers:
“You realize that you guys fired and kicked out of the house a couple who only loved you all, spent time with you all, prayed with and for you all, shepherded you all? …I loved you with all my heart! But now, all of a sudden, the same [pastor] you praised with compliments the other day as a kind, compassionate man (and yes, THIS is my husband) is the man you put all the efforts to destroy (along with me). …About your text implying that my husband is abusive to me and that I should leave him (maybe stay in Brazil?) [it] is very hurtful and sinful. I thought you knew us better. Don’t you see the love and respect we have for each other? Have you ever seen me being disrespectful to [my husband]? Giving him harsh answers, being impatient? Like most Christian wives do these days? Have you ever seen [my husband] being disrespectful, harsh, and abusive to me? Because all that I see is a man who loves me and treats me with respect and tenderness (in public and in private)…I’m grieving like never before. But Jesus will heal my heart once again and put [my husband] and I in a place where people will truly love us. I’m done with churches where wives control their husbands and manipulate the entire flock to destroy good men and hurt deeply their families (me). I choose to forgive you all even now that none of you can see the terrible thing that was done against us. But I’ll keep praying that God will bring you and the others to repentance.”
Sadly, this blog post is probably the only form of ‘discipline’ this elder and his wife will ever face. May God grant them a realization of their sin, and repentance.
Synagogues of Satin Laced with the Poison of Feminism
There are no perfect churches, and even in healthy churches, we should reasonably expect relational challenges which we must learn to navigate in God-glorifying ways. At the same time, we must acknowledge that a “healthy church” in our day is an absolute anomaly. Decades of failing to address the sins of women has led to an epidemic of hen-pecked churches that are simply no longer safe to attend—they have become synagogues of satin laced with the poison of feminism.
My inbox is full of men who’ve had their reputations, livelihoods, marriages, and families destroyed by ‘church-ladies’ and ‘white-knight’ pastors, elders, and deacons.
As Pastor Dale Partridge recently said on X:
“Why must today’s pastors call out sins like…feminism…Because the previous generation of pastors did not. Their silence has forced our noise.”
If evangelicals continue to turn a blind eye to the poison of feminism in their congregations then they should not be surprised when the next generation of men rightly refuse to set foot in their churches.
In my next (and final) series post, I’ll attempt to chart a path forward for the wave of young men who are coming home to today’s church only to find it turned upside down by devious, domineering women and cowardly church leaders. I’ll wrap things up with a call to action. Stay tuned…