In my last post, I talked about the crucible at Adventist Frontier Missions. I mentioned that the final game we played was one where we had to bring Bibles to some far away country and if we failed, it meant death. I mentioned that death is a prominent theme in Adventism, and today I want to explore why that is. Why is the Seventh-day Adventist religion so obsessed with death?

One of my big realizations when working under Steve Huey, Monte Church, and Native Ministries of the Washington Conference of Seventh-day Adventists was that heaven was used as a carrot on a stick. Pastor Steve Huey made it clear to me that those who questioned pastors and prophets would eventually be lost. Death is the ultimate fear that many of us face, and Adventism brands itself on having the answer and solution for death. So-called prophetess Ellen G White claimed to have went to heaven. Her estate even put together a compilation on her trips to heaven, and unremarkably titled it heaven. How did I ever fall for this? I don't know. The idea that God took such a person to heaven makes me shudder. The idea that I took it seriously and based much of my life around it makes me want to throw up.

Part X :: Outcasts and Rogue Pastors

“The Ellen White that they preach is not our Ellen White.” I had read virtually every book written by Ellen White and I wanted to believe that. Countryside was a brotherhood of believers. They had one thing in common. It was the fact that they did not fit in anywhere else. This place gave them a sense of community that they never had anywhere else. Albert likely knew that. He likely took advantage of that fact. Many of these people were outcasts. Freddy had been disabled at an early age and moved out to the wilds. He hated the city. So did many others. Many had no family, or they had children who walked away from Adventism (do you blame them?). Some stated that they tried to preach at Deer Park and other churches and were turned away. Some tried to hand out Bill Hughes books, but pastors shut them down. Each of these people wanted to be accepted somewhere, but society as a whole, and even the SDA churches

would not let them in. Albert gathered them all and placed them under his wing. He accepted them. Not even God did that. In essence, it appeared that Albert had lifted himself up higher than the good Lord Himself. The subject of God’s love was strictly off limits.

Yet, the place and acceptance that Albert gave each of Countryside’s members spoke for itself—just as long as the members behaved themselves and went along with the rules.

Every other church did something wrong in the eyes of Albert. Deer Park refused to preach "present truth" and was under the umbrella of the corrupt general conference. The nearby offshoot believed in the 2520 prophecy (I still don’t know or care to know what that even is). Other churches were infiltrated by Catholics, used the wrong hymnals, and had pastors who preached from the wrong Bibles. They also didn’t follow the health laws strictly enough. None of them had Bill Hughes. A sign, prominently displayed in the dining room proclaimed what the church and its members believed. Certain ideas were off-limits for anyone to talk about or believe. We believe.. it began. Below was a list of the doctrines that Countryside held true. If you went along with this and didn’t question the leadership, you would fit in just fine.

Although many were poor, paying tithe was still an integral part of membership. To rob by not paying the tithe was to rob God Himself. Adventism loves the tithing system, and it has made the church quite rich. Albert no doubt saw this and proclaimed the same message that tithe was to go to Countryside. How else would Bill Hughes be able to fly out? Many members dropped ten percent or more of their SSI check into the offering plate. Even I returned an offering to Countryside, believing that I would be blessed by giving if my motives were pure.

One of my family members asked me how Albert could make money from his church. But if you have 30 to 50 people paying 10% of their income, and each person makes $1500 a month, then you have $4,500 for 30 members and $7,500 for 50 members. Add to this the offering and the fact that some people return a double tithe. Also, many people make more than $1,500 a month. In addition to other offerings made for church upkeep, and visitors, as well as the possibility of books and literature being sold on the side, an independent “self-supporting” ministry can make a good deal of money.

Let's say there are 5 people in the church who make $5,000 per month. There are 10 people in the church who make $3,000 a month. There are 10 more who make $2000 a month. There are another 10 who make $1,500 a month. That’s $9,000 in tithe alone if each of those 35 members pays a tithe. One high-earner who makes $7,000 can bring in a nice chunk of change. A devotee who pays 3x their tithe covers 3 people. Those who pay a big Christmas offering or believe that they will be further blessed by their giving can help tip the tithe plate. Then you have the offerings. The idea that offerings should be given adds an incentive to throw in an extra $20 bill each week. Some will write a nice-sized check to pad the plate.

When these souls without a family to call their own pass on to the next world, many will leave their inheritance to the church. After all, it was the church that was the vehicle to get them into the gates of Heaven. One’s fear response is highest near death and the only thing that a devotee who has been taught works-based fear knows is atoning for sins in any way possible. Money and land can easily be relinquished at this time. Others, who have families, are likely to leave at least 10% of their estate, and sometimes much more, to the church. As you can see, there’s a lot of money to be made. Many of these rogue pastors know exactly what they are doing. One hundred thousand dollar donation every few years when an old parishioner passes on can really make the work worth it. Remember, Countryside and these such churches are full of older people who are inching towards the grim reaper. It should also be noted that I tithed the money that I received from my student loan living expenses, out of the belief

that God would bless my future career. While I no longer believe this, nor would I do this

again, it is something that I am likely not alone with. People will do strange things in order to fit in or be right in the eyes of God.

Yet, the worldly success of the Countryside folk was not as high as those at the Deer Park church. When comparing both groups, there was a socio-economic component that was obvious. The wealthier Deer Park church was full of younger individuals who had careers, families, and had more or less made it in the world. Some were doctors, others owned their own small businesses. Many lived in town. Many had local connections with city and county government figures. To the Countryside folk, it looked like they had one foot in the world and one foot out. The difference in lifestyle was stark. The haves and the have-nots. The younger people lived in a different world, many with intact families that went to church together. Success in business, family, and overall good health only worked to make many of the Countryside folks outliers. I wondered, were the people at Countryside used to abuse? Did they hail from broken families or broken homes? I looked at some who had battled intense poverty. There had been grave abuse in my father-in-law’s past, and as a result, he had struggled with abuse himself. As a result, I discerned that it was hard for him to accept

Christ’s free forgiveness, but instead, he saw that he was more comfortable in a works-obsessed* environment, which Countryside provided. Yet, when I learned more about Freddy’s past, I began to realize that there was no way that the message of doom and conspiracy that Albert peddled could ever meet his deep need for Jesus’ healing power. Yet, I would later learn the Countryside message was something that Freddy craved on a deeper level. Maybe that was also the case with Stephen. Generational abuse at its finest.

*Note: I always found it interesting that abused people search for what is familiar — namely the same kind of abuse that they are used to. This can be from a similar relationship or something familiar. For Freddy, an abusive and controlling church fulfilled the void that was left behind when his father passed away. Freddy’s father had taught his son that he was not worth loving. The message he got at Countryside was one and the same.

Any good cult has three things going for it. The first is a form of secret

knowledge that is not shared by the rest of the world. This was once known as

Gnosticism. While the Seventh-day Adventist church had Ellen White, who provided a level of so-called “insider knowledge”, the Countryside Offshoot had combined her books with the knowledge of various conspiracies that the rest of the world was not aware of. Moreover, it was asserted that the Seventh-day Adventist prophetess, Ellen White, had been corrupted and was not the true Ellen that they had. Corrupted Bibles, insistence on using only the King James version, and being a small group that knew about the Jesuit order's mission to infiltrate the church and take over the world added to the secret knowledge of this gnostic club.

The second thing is a brotherhood of believers. As stated above, Countryside had a tight-knit group of people. They referred to each other as brother and sister when speaking. I once was known as brother J. The love and fraternity they provided for each other during shared meals, as well as during holiday events, helped them feel like a family. Albert acted the part of a loving father for those who followed the rules. For those who deviated, he was a stern father who didn’t mind shunning the bad kids. The third thing required for a cult is for the group to think with one mind. If people think too differently, the cult may fall apart. The list of beliefs displayed in the dining room right before one entered the sanctuary was the perfect example of this. It is one thing to state the beliefs of an organization, and most churches are not shy about

sharing their beliefs. However, to proclaim what one does not believe seems to be more in line with the idea of thought control. It also put the power right in pastor Albert’s court. Unlike most churches, the Countryside Offshoot was a stand-alone church that not only got all the tithe and offerings for itself but also did not have any organizational structure or accountability. From the top, self-proclaimed “pastor” Albert had placed himself in the position of lord, or even god, over the church. By establishing what people did and did not believe, he could, in effect, shape the thoughts of all those who came into the building and fellowshipped with him.*

*Note: After I published Disrupting Adventism, Albert had discovered it, and brought attention to it. An example was made of me. Every good cult needs a scapegoat. As a result, I was deemed lost by the church. Moreover, it was said that I was a Jesuit, and the enemy. Another much needed scapegoat to work for the benefit of the power structure of the cult.

At one point, Bill Hughes was a fetish of the Countryside Church. He was a nice diversion set aside for a special occasion, like a Christmas gift. You could not expect him, but when he showed up he was something to be savored. Now Bill Hughes was becoming a mainstay in the church. Every couple of months, Bill Hughes would make the arduous trip from Florida to Washington state. Albert would host him at home, and he would come to speak three sermons at Countryside on the Sabbath. Bill Hughes's mental and literary resources were extremely valuable to the church. He was one outsider who traveled a long distance to grace this small group with his star-like presence. Not even Deer Park could get Hughes. Heck, they couldn’t even get a pastor at this point. At this point, Pastor Harry, who was accused of murder by Countryside, had left for Michigan. That church had sealed its fate by rejecting Bill Hughes’ guiding books. All that was left for them was their corrupted Ellen White books that they passed out in the foyer and a bunch of worthless hymnals with Catholic-inspired songs to Mary. Now, arm and arm, it was time for Albert and Hughes to guide Countryside further down greater avenues of conspiracy and fear.

Now, you may be wondering if Pastor Albert was ordained as a pastor or

if he had any seminary training under his belt. I do believe that there is a place in

society for pastors who have not been educated in the seminary (and it may be better than some are not indoctrinated into a denominational way of thinking). Also, some who do not go to seminary can think more creatively than those who have been institutionally educated. The subject of Ellen White, for instance, becomes law once you step foot into the halls of the Adventist pastor factory. For Albert, there was no talk of seminary training. There was a vague mention that he had many family members who were pastors around the world, but proof was not supplied.

In California, Albert had a ministry called “Truth and Nature Ministries." Yet, little is known about this ministry other than it's a vehicle for publishing DVDs and pamphlets. Given his distaste for and anger towards the General Conference, which was shared by Bill Hughes, becoming an Adventist pastor in the traditional route would probably not be a possibility. Yet, Albert had found some kind of place in the role of a pastor. While I do not know if he believes what he preaches (for example, not all Seventh-day Adventist pastors believe that Ellen White is an inspired messenger of God, yet they preach it because it’s their job to do so), the fact is, if he is doing it for money or power, he does a good job of hiding it.

“You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved…Brother will rise against brother. Your family will turn on you. Some will turn you in to the authorities. Some will have you locked up. Killed even.” I looked around. Many of the members of this church no longer spoke to people in their families. Many had sons or daughters who had not understood the faith and had departed from it.

“This is the price of following Jesus,” Pastor Albert said.

“It is a solemn statement that I make to the church, that not one in twenty whose names are registered upon the church books are prepared to close their earthly history, and would be verily without God and without hope in the world as the common sinner,” was one of Albert’s favorite Ellen White quotes, and he made sure to use it often as a point to keep his church in line.

I thought to myself, this man has incredible, unchecked power. There is no

overseeing organization that watches over these offshoots. This person has power over families. I looked at my in-laws. Surely, they would believe that I spoke out against this group, they would see me as departing from the faith, a sheep who had left the fold, or worse yet, a Jesuit.

It was brought to our attention that the members of the Countryside cult would be going to hand out materials next week, and we were invited to join them. I had no desire to hand out Bill Hughes books, so politely declined. Kathleen brought me a pamphlet for an orphanage in Kenya and showed us who the church was helping as a mission. “We have already sent them many books.” It made me think of Bill Hughes sending loads of books to Africa. I took a look at the orphanage, with the rows of schoolchildren lined up. Many were smiling. “This is our mission,” Albert said. He stood tall and grinned widely. I looked around the room slowly. I saw many people now talking amongst each other, or going back for more food at the vegan potluck. Some walked very slowly. One

man was hunched over. The poor guy could barely get his own food. His son rushed over to help him. Another slowly made his way to the restroom. I saw a group of people far too old to do much mission work in the field. The only way for this church to support missionaries was to give money to some other organization. Not much was said about what was given. Just books? I didn’t know. It was better that I didn’t. All I knew was that there was no way that these people were going to go to Africa. And to be 100% honest, I knew that there was so much fear of the world that to get them on a plane and into a foreign land would have been too much for them. Africa was seen as an easy target. Full of people that were ready to accept whatever some rich white pastor threw at them. As long as he said he had a connection with God and was from America, some would eat it up. At least that was the thought process. Sadly, many seemed to do just that.

People were hungry for Hughes. Africans loved that man and Hughes was not shy about telling it to the world.

Could these Bill Hughes books really change the world? What present truth is there in the idea that Jesuits sunk the Titanic? How does that help poor Africans learn about Jesus? What good does it do for an African school child to believe that the September 11th terrorist attacks were orchestrated by Jesuits? How does that give one any hope in Jesus? The end of the world may be coming, but what hope does that give a person trying to learn and grow today? How does any of this give hope to a young African schoolchild building a life for his or her future?“We have this hope that burns within our hearts…”

The hope of what? Of Jesuits coming and destroying the church, and proving you right?*

Part VIII :: Nile Union Academy in Egypt

This was not our first trip to Egypt. I skipped my law school graduation to travel around Egypt back in 2013. Not too many people were traveling to Egypt at that time. During that period, my wife and I got to witness the hordes of Egyptians in Tahrir Square ousting President Morsi. We were staying at a hostel in the center of the action. From the rooftop veranda, we saw military helicopters flying over the city. Little did we know that my wife was pregnant at this time and that my new career in law would soon be exchanged for one in mission work.

This time things were a lot calmer. Egypt was now back on the tourist radar. As our plane landed in Cairo, I felt the same kind of excitement that I felt when we had landed in our home of Ukraine. It was thrilling to call Egypt home. As a child, I had always wanted to visit Egypt. I never, ever dreamed I would actually live there. 

There was a part of me that wanted to believe that God had blessed me since I was working for him. Part of me wanted to believe that God was guiding me to somehow be a worthy missionary. I did not feel worthy at the time. As I read about fruitless missionaries, I strongly felt that these words applied to me. Yet, this would be a chance for me to prove myself and to use the gifts that God had given me to do well. I guess that’s the thing about a works-based religion. Everything is about proving one’s self, doing a good enough job, and earning salvation in any way possible (except through Jesus’s Sacrifice of course). It’s not about the heart, but about how you get others to believe just like you. Oh, how desperately I wanted a star in my crown!

Oh, how I wanted that shiny shimmering star. I think that some people get to the point where they will do anything for that first star. If you can’t get into Heaven without at least one star, and if Heaven is eternal bliss—paradise—then should not one literally do anything to get that first fiery celestial orb? Oh, what a monstrous God we must serve.

As I listened to the principal tell us that we should make it a goal to convert at least one student, I knew that just had to be me. That was my goal for the year. It wasn’t to ride another camel, climb Mt. Sinai, be a better teacher, learn about Egyptian culture, or learn the Arabic language. No, it was to get that first delicious star. As I saw the students arrive to register for the 2018 school year, I knew that I was going to guide one of them (and myself) to the promised land, just like a modern-day Moses. What a task! I taught four English classes at NUA. It was a far cry from what I was doing in the Pacific Northwest. In addition to teaching, I would be finishing my master’s degree in teaching. Looking back on my time in Ukraine, I found that I enjoyed teaching and that I hoped to make some kind of living from it.

Teaching at NUA was not a lucrative endeavor. In fact, it was like every other missionary experience in terms of pay. We didn’t go to get rich. I think that it paid about $25-30 each per month. The big thing for us was having our room and board covered. We had a cute little apartment at the edge of the school with a gate and a small yard. It wasn’t fancy at all, but we both liked it. It got a good amount of light and was private.

Like all of our previous missionary jobs, we did not fundraise or ask for any kind of donation. In fact, one day I felt guilty about getting any kind of financial help and asked the principal to not pay us. He was surprised at this, but I figured that it was probably something that everyone did. I felt that the money could be better used by the school.

While at the Egyptian school, I consumed Ellen White’s books during my free time. I reread a lot of her classics, including Desire of Ages and the Conflict of the Ages series. I felt a bit disconnected from other missionaries. At the time I didn’t know if it was due to my age, having a daughter, or something else. I realized that there were others older than me who were popular and well-received. And others were parents, too. I later realized it was likely because I was a first-generation Adventist. I was awkward in matters of religion. I found religion to be like a club. Some belong, and others don’’t. It’s just like in every other aspect of life and no different or special in that regard.

Looking at myself as a teacher, I believe I failed. I was very lax with discipline and the students steamrolled me. I had written a book about my experience at NUA, but also unpublished that due to how my beliefs had changed (it was another book chock full of Ellen White quotes related to my disastrous year as a teacher). Let’s just say that Egyptian students can be a handful. It’s a whole different culture. There were constant fights in the classroom, students playing cards while I taught, speaking over me, and leaving to spend the class period in the restroom or in the halls. I was at a complete loss when it came to discipline and I felt that nothing worked. I never yelled at them, and I felt that showing Christ’s love would compel them to behave.

I weaved religion into my classes. I wanted my senior class to learn Fanny

Bolton’s classic, Steps to Christ. For my youngest students, I coupled the learning of English with Gracelink cartoons about Jesus and his disciples. I aimed to win hearts and minds to Jesus and Ellen White and gain those beautiful first stars. Like a conquering Pharaoh, I imagined leaving Egypt proud of the fact that I had assured my entrance into the pearly gates of the celestial city of New Jerusalem.

My students seemed to like me quite well. Being that I never sent them to the principal's office or yelled at them, they could do anything and everything they wanted in my class. At the time it perplexed me and I felt woefully inadequate. I believed that I was probably a laughing stock to the other teachers. Another, much younger American teacher ran away with one of her students and later married him (there was a no dating policy for missionaries). Shortly after this, for no apparent reason, the principal and his family left in the night. Our school was without a principal and a head teacher. Chaos began.

The second half of the year tested our marriage. We were completely

overworked. For some reason the school started giving us our stipend and I said

nothing about it. I felt guilty about it but was too tired to care. The school seemed to be falling apart, and in the chaos of it, I was given an extra class. I now taught more than any other missionary—even though I had a child. Being that I was, in my eyes, the worst teacher there, it seemed even harder.

One of the celebrated life-long missionaries and school benefactors flew in from Australia to check on the school, as he did from time to time. He was an ex-vice principal and talked about possibly returning to his role. He gave me a book and told me that I should use it. I told him I would think about it. Protected from the Egyptian sun under the shade of a tree, I casually read through the book. “Would my seniors even understand this book?” I asked myself. It was one of those books that were full of literary language. The class would fight against it, as they had with other educational endeavors. There was no way to sugarcoat it: the level of English in the book was far too advanced for my seniors.

I continued to turn the pages, wondering what was so great about this book. “Why was this book suggested to me?” I asked. I thought back to how I had read that Ellen White shunned literature of all kinds. I had been trying to elevate their minds to the level of the Lord, not bring them down to everyday life themes. I had read how Ellen stated that fiction books would destroy a person’s spirituality, fever the imagination, unfit the mind for usefulness and dwarf the intellect, wean the soul from prayer, disqualify the soul for any spiritual exercise, spoil people for anything useful, and unfit women for being good mothers. Surely, this would not be the proper course for my students! Yet, I was confused. On one hand, the church matriarch had a vendetta against all things fiction. I should just continue with Steps to Christ and forget about this whole thing. Yet, on the other hand, this vice principal fellow had previous success with these students, and would likely be the school principal the next year. Here I was, just a stupid

missionary who wasn’t a great teacher and still had a lot to learn about this religion. I was determined to do right. Oh Lord, send me a sign (right?).

Then, I caught something as I was flipping through those pages. Something about the young men engaged in sexual acts. Was the hot Egyptian sun getting to me? Could I be seeing this right? I felt shame at even looking at the book, and I quickly closed it. I didn’t want anything to do with it, and I slid it into my backpack. At that moment I knew that there was no way I would speak to my seniors about such topics.

Yuck! I imagined Ellen White shaking her rod and writing that vice principal a letter if she was still alive. I guess I would be sticking with the Fanny Bolton book.

Later, I approached my wife and told her about the book. I didn’t really know what to say. I just felt dirty about it. It didn’t make sense to me. I felt with all the stigma over sexual abuse that happens with children and kids, those topics were just not the kind you would even bring up in class. The school didn’t even have a sexual education program. I wondered if I was being tested somehow. Perhaps the vice principal was feeling me out somehow? Needless to say, I returned the book to the library.

A couple of weeks later, I was asked if I used the book. I told the VP that it was too advanced for my students. I didn’t dare mention the sex scenes. The VP replied that if I took it slowly and let the students take turns reading, they would get it. No thanks.

Later on, I would read about how many Adventist academies are hotbeds of sexual abuse. A lot of it is hidden. Sadly, some accounts speak of administrators coercing people to remain silent about such abuse because it “makes the church look bad.” While Ellen White states that we should protect the image of the church at all costs, the truth is, if something is truly God’s, He will protect it. All abuse needs to be brought out into the light. There is no excuse to hide the abuse that happens against children (See “I Was A Seventh Day Adventist Episode 4: Church Skeletons” on Spotify). In addition, the book was culturally inappropriate to teach to a mixed-gender middle eastern class.

Even the far reaches of the land of pharaohs and pyramids were not out of reach for news about Bill Hughes and his visits to Countryside. I was glad to not have to be present to try to avoid his sermons. Being far away felt good. Yet, after the exhaustion from teaching and being apart from my wife, we decided that we would throw in the towel after the school year. A good percentage of teachers had left early and when one would leave, the workload for the few of us who remained compounded.

We had thought about where we wanted to live, and we both were keen on

returning to Ukraine. Yet, we wanted to visit family first. There were some things that we, and especially the ladies, missed about the United States. As we were all getting older, it made sense to stop for a while and spend some time. Our daughter wanted to be with family on her birthday and we thought spending Christmas there would also be nice. Therefore, we decided we would spend about four months with the in-laws before we moved back to Ukraine.

I marked off each day on the calendar as the end drew closer. I, along with the interim principal and the skeleton staff worked our asses off to keep that school running like a well-oiled machine. It was falling apart like one of my father-in-law’s old beater cars. Although I loved living in Egypt, I felt that I was not able to visit the interesting parts as much as I would have liked. I was ready for a break. I looked in the mirror and saw a man who had aged far too fast for one year. My wife and I noticed that our hair had started to go grey during this period. The school year had literally sucked the life out of us. In addition to teaching, I was also attending graduate school classes and writing reports, maintaining a 4.0 average, and trying to coordinate a business back in the United States. Add to that raising a daughter and running a household, and you can see why I was so parched.

When the holy Sabbath came around, we were so exhausted that we could

barely even muster the strength or desire to drag our weary bodies to the chapel.

Sometimes I would go alone while my wife spent some much-needed family time with our daughter. I wondered, if the Sabbath is truly a holy day, and the best day of the week, why is it so exhausting? Is this truly a day of rest, or have we lost touch with what rest means?

What is rest? I thought of how the principal would try to let the students swim on the hottest days. Sometimes the heat would be over 110F and the students would want to swim in the outdoor pool. Yet, the powers at the local conference forbade Sabbath swimming. “Parents, above everything take care of your children upon the Sabbath. Do not suffer them to violate God’s holy day by playing in the house or out-of-doors. You may just as well break the Sabbath yourselves as to let your children do it, and when you suffer your children to wander about and suffer them to play upon the Sabbath, God looks upon you as Sabbathbreakers” (Ellen White, Review and Herald, Sept. 19, 1854).

As a result, the students would disperse into the dorms to sleep away the

heat. Swimming on the Sabbath had long been an issue in various churches I had been to, and it was a focal point of many debates over the years. The more traditional and fundamentalist Adventists eschewed the idea of swimming on the Sabbath. Ellen White had rules for virtually every aspect of life, and the idea of swimming on the Sabbath was also something she had something to say about. Writing in the third volume of Selected Messages, Ellen stated that the Sabbath is “no day for pleasure-seeking, swimming, or ball playing.” Teachers would supervise the students after church and make sure that they did not make their way to the basketball area or the football (soccer) field. Many of the students didn’t understand it. I never understood how policing the choices of how a person finds pleasure is a Godly thing. Even now, I think that the Seventh-day Adventist

Part VII :: A New Mission

Could it really be the end? Could have I left that place and erased all that had happened from my mind? Could I reintegrate myself into whatever Adventism was after that? The reader must remember that this was the deepest into Adventism I had ever gotten. Sure, I had been to other churches, such as Deer Park. But Countryside had become a weekly ritual. During this time was when I studied the most. Like Stephen, Countryside touched me in ways that, frankly, should be illegal. Yet, I was also at fault. I dived in. I did it for a multitude of reasons. For my little girl, for my own salvation, and to live according to the life that I felt that I was “supposed to live.” Yet, I knew that this was not the way. Strangely, I did not know what the correct way was.

I was still suckling the words of Ellen White as if she had the truth for me. It

would be years before I would make the connection that she was largely at fault for the extremism. To be honest, at this point, the thought never occurred to me, and I continued to voraciously read her books, sometimes over and over again. I would walk through the Adventist Book Center and wonder why anyone even bothered reading anything else when there were volumes of work by a modern-day prophet to read. I know that I was not alone in this idea. When we moved to the coast we met another family who loved her in the same way. There were thousands, maybe tens of thousands of Adventists that saw Ellen White as the pinnacle of knowledge second only, and sometimes tied to the Bible.

When we finally combined all the DVDs that we had gathered over the last few months with the ones Stephen gave us, we must have had well over 100 DVDs. I began to sort them into sections, as I was interested in watching some of them. I had neglected to watch any secular entertainment at this time and instead figured that material with a religious message was automatically superior.

Some of the DVDs were deemed more worthy to watch than others. I had a stack of some from pastors that I was okay with learning about and some that were in the “no thanks pile” The DVDs about the poisoned water, chemtrails, and fluoride were a definite no. That one eventually ended up in a landfill. Actually, they all did. But a small percentage was digested first.

I would say that the vast majority of these DVDs were shut off after the first 20 or so minutes. It was easy to tell where they were going. It seemed that the pastors were more interested in hearing their own voices rather than preaching anything uplifting or of real substance. My curiosity sometimes would get the best of me, and some of the labels were vague enough to entice me.

Freddy and Darla had been Adventists for years. Freddy had been raised an Adventist, but his father was not the best role model (to say the least). As I watched DVDs and thought back to my time at Countryside, I was angry that they did not “know better than this,” I thought back to the seemingly gifted mind of Eric and how he could dive deep into the Bible and tell you endless things that you never could have imagined knowing. How could he not know better? What about the other kind people at Countryside who seemed to long after something better than the world had to offer? Some of these folks had been lifelong Adventists, too. How in the world could they be so deluded by the idea of a Jesuit world government? That shook me. It was something I still can’t wrap my head around. Compared to me, these people were spiritual giants. They should have been people I looked up to. I was learning just how little we all must know.

These individuals had been vocally interested and supportive of our work on the coast. Even though we were working under the umbrella of the Jesuit-controlled General Conference, they wanted to support us. It seemed like there was a cognitive dissonance here, as well. If you really believe something is so evil, how can you support it? I found that, as long as it was familiar and understandable, it can be supported, and is good. But it was the parts that were too complex, too distant, that was evil. It all boiled down to a fear of the world. Us versus them. An all-consuming need for control. Sometimes we would pop a DVD in while we were eating lunch. One day, for some strange reason, my wife and I were both feeling brave. We decided that we would give this Bill Hughes guy a chance. Strangely, I had never seen what he looked like, nor had I watched anything he had put out. I wanted to hear him speak, to understand how charismatic he was. We slid one of the discs into the player and began to watch the sermon.

This must have been Bill’s first Countryside rodeo because it was here that he introduced himself and gave his testimony. He didn’t waste any time jumping into it. He looked nothing like I had imagined. He was a smaller man, with a white mustache. He spoke very slowly, hoping that the audience would take in every word. He was not in a rush to tell his story. Like Albert, he used terms like “friends” and “brothers and sisters.” He tried to appear friendly. In later sermons that I witnessed, I saw that he would sometimes joke with people in the audience or say someone's name that he recognized. He looked frail. Kind of weak. Definitely at the edge of a strange and interesting life, but with enough steam to go on for a while still. I had heard he was being hunted down by the Jesuits, and that there was a bounty for his life. “Bill Hughes is in hiding,” Darla said. Yet, if he was in hiding, why did the Countryside website have all his

upcoming sermon dates listed?

Conspiracy and intrigue surrounded this man. A modern carnival barker of the fringe Adventist faith. Each word, calculated to bring one to a deeper fear of the world. Each word, calculated to instill a feeling of emptiness. Yet, those in the audience didn’t hear it like that. They loved him. Every conspiracy he peddled was a ray of hope to the people whose ears were wide open. Soon the Jesuits would strike, but God had their back. Before the stroke of death fell on these ancient listeners, God’s mighty hand would reach down and pick up these outcasts of society. As the Sunday law backfired on the rest of the world, these fringe folk would be ushered into a room full of white robes and hat racks lined with golden crowns. Jesus would fit each one with a shining hat loaded with stars and take them to a garden of everlasting glory. The rest of the world would perish in consuming fire. A beautiful message of hope. The hope in the coming of the Lord.

You can tell a person is in a bad mood by how they speak. This was true of Mr. Hughes as he began to tell his story of being removed from the Adventist church. Rather than accept a better position in exchange for giving up his Jesuit-obsessive sermons, he opted to become a martyr. He traded his cushy GC position for one of a rogue pastor. Yet, it was as a rogue pastor that he gained fame. That didn’t dispel the hatred he had for the conference, and he was hellbent on letting every church he visited know that he had been unjustly fired.

He was tense as the words spilled forth like hot irons from his jagged lips. His

voice cracked like an old whip as he let the words roll off his tongue. His accent

sounded almost southern. I was told he lived in Florida. Tax records show he is a pretty wealthy man. His ministry, “Truth Triumphant” rakes in enough to make a choir boy blush ten times over.

“They told me to stop. And I said, stop what? And they said you can have this job, but I need you to stop preaching the Three Angel’s messages. And, once they said that, I told them that I could not do that. And that was the end. I said, no. I can’t do that.” He seemed very perturbed, very annoyed, and vexed even. “I can’t stop preaching the Three Angel’s message*…”

*Note: The three angel’s messages, or the third angel’s message, is mentioned during every sermon at Countryside. The idea is that the remnant must warn the world about the Jesuits and how they are the whore of Babylon. “Come out of her my people.” Ellen White (who else?) was a huge proponent of preaching the third angel’s message. Strangely, few within the church can seem to agree what the message actually is. At Countryside Sabbath Fellowship, part of preaching the Third Angel’s Message was spreading every conspiracy possible about the Catholic church. This was also how Bill Hughes framed it in his books. Jesuits are the enemy.

“The Seventh-day Adventist church refuses to preach the third angel's message,

and that is why they are in apostasy” was the message. The third angel’s message, the one that Ellen White says is the creme de la creme of the message we are to take to the world, is one that the extremists and traditionalists love to claim a monopoly over. Yet, after months of going to Countryside and watching various sermons entitled “the third angel’s message,” I had no clue what the message actually was.

“You know why they removed the three angels from the Adventist logo*, don’t you? Do you know why they replaced it with an upside-down cross? The ecumenical symbol shows a burning bible! It's the cross of Satan. It’s Satanic.”

*Note: An older version of the Seventh-day Adventist logo previously pictured three angels with trumpets flying over the earth. This symbol has been replaced with a cross and fire coming out of a Bible. The Three Angels symbol is still heavily used at more traditional “offshoot” churches. The fact that this symbol has been replaced with a more modern symbol is part of the supposed proof that the Adventist church has clasped hands with Rome and is in Babylon along with all the other Christian denominations. It is “us versus them” thinking at its finest.

“Who did such a thing?”

I imagined Stephen hissing, “Jesuits!”

Of course. Those Jesuits in the church! The ones with nothing better to do than sink the Titanic.

The sermon continued with Bill Hughes outlining the wrongs committed against him, and how he found it within his heart to forgive them. From that moment, the sermon switched to a tirade about the General Conference being in deep apostasy. It was time to turn off the television. I had seen enough. What kind of drama was this? What strange world had I walked in on?

Before we left for Ukraine, not even two years ago, there was no sign of this kind of religion. Yet now, everything had quickly changed. Going to church to worship God had been replaced with a strange unrecognizable religion. It was dizzying. It was confusing. It was unreal. How the hell did you not know better? I wanted to grab Freddy and shake him, slap him, and ask “what in the world were you thinking?! Darla, why did you not stop this man?! Why didn’t you put your foot down before it got to this? How have you been so duped? What the hell happened?!?”

Many are reading this book now, and have been wondering why my view on religion drastically changed over the past few years. When I first arrived on the coast I was spiritually on fire. Mentally, I was not so different than these people. I emulated a lot of what I saw in the Countryside church. Looking back, I was an extremist, too. I truly thought that we had to attain perfection. I truly thought that we had to be ready for the end times at every moment, lest it caught us unaware. I believed that the Sunday law was coming soon. I would scour the news for signs. I am deeply embarrassed by the person I was at that time. I never understood how ugly it was making me. I would beat myself up for any failure. After reading Adventist Home and seeing how my life did not live up to the standard, I would beg God for forgiveness. I could never live up to Ellen White. But I needed to figure out how to.

On the coast, I had the expectation that those who I was called to serve should become like how I was to become. The native people ate fish and lived disorderly lives. They were not married to the people they had made children with. They didn’t come to church on Sabbath. Their children were rowdy and loud in church. Although they were friendly and I liked them a lot, they were not how God wanted them to be, and if I did not shape them it was going to be on me. Stars for my crown were hanging in the balance. If I could just get one star I would be accepted to enter Heaven. After all, Auntie Ellen said that every crown will at least have one star in it.

Mine still had zero.

“He seems angry,” I said. “…And vengeful. He says he’s not, but it’s there. It’s obvious.”

My wife agreed.

“This whole thing is wrong,” I said.

Yet, against that backdrop, Bill Hughes' fame was growing like wildfire at

Countryside.

“Guess who is coming to church this weekend?” Darla told my wife on the phone

as they talked.

“Who?” she asked.

“Bill Hughes!” Darla said, her voice cracking with excitement.

“Oh,” my wife said, trying to hide her disappointment. “His sermons are always so interesting. We have told him about you.”

I could not help but wonder what could have been said about us to the esteemed Bill Hughes. Why would he even care? He had bigger fish to contend with. We were just a couple of wayward conference missionaries.

Since we lived so close to the family, we made regular visits. The Spokane area was about eight to ten hours from us and it was nice to get away from the everyday. Our place on the coast was in a small town of around 275 people 40 miles from the nearest town. Forks was the closest town of any size, with the same population as Deer Park.

The next largest town was 70 miles to the south and that was Aberdeen and Hoquiam. The “twin harbors” were where we did most of our shopping.

We lived and worked in Queets. This little coastal tribal village features a gas station and a few tribal offices. It is located about a mile from the sea. The people of Queets largely survive off of fishing and many are also hunters. Guiding services are a huge source of income for Queetsters, as they like to call themselves. The little village consists of an upper and lower part The upper area is purely residential, with a senior center and a couple of cul-de-sacs of houses. The lower village is where the tribal center, Queets community center, senior center, and manufacturing plant are located. The church that we worked in is also in the lower village. Next door is a parsonage.

Living in Queets was new for us. As stated before, I had previously lived in

Seattle, New York, Kyiv, San Francisco, and a host of other very large cities. Being so immersed in cultures allowed me to not feel out of place at all in regard to native American culture. However, the biggest culture shock for me was living so removed from society. Therefore, I enjoyed driving east, even if it meant dealing with some of the things that I left behind.

When we arrived on one of our eastern Washington visits, we were made aware that Bill Hughes was in town and would be speaking at Countryside.

“This is the perfect chance for you to meet him!” Darla proclaimed.

My countenance fell.

“The church is always SO busy when he comes,” she added.

So busy, huh? we thought. The wheels in our heads were turning, and it seemed

like the perfect way to avoid a meeting. Even though we had taken our daughter

traveling all over with us, and even though she was incredibly adaptable, we knew she

did not like loud noises. Therefore, we decided that it was an easy way out for us.

“I don’t know if she would really like the noise. And we told her she would get to

see her little friends at Deer Park,” my wife said.

It was the perfect way out.

“That’s true. The church is always so full that people have to watch from the dining room,” Darla said.

It felt good to miss out on Bill Hughes’ lambasting the conference and going off on Jesuits. I pictured the little man in his lamb white hair waving his arms around and crying out the sins of the Jesuits, phlegm flying all about. I could just see his legions of devotees all crying out for more, taking notes, shouting amen, and accosting the pastor for news about when Bill Hughes would return.

I pictured Eric’s father miraculously rising and proclaiming, “If this is where my tithe goes, sign me up for double. No! Triple!”

When we visited the in-laws, we enjoyed cooking. We were rushing about in the kitchen making some kind of enchilada dish when the in-laws arrived. The sun was going down and their two dogs were going crazy underfoot.

“Freddy, take them for a walk so they can use the bathroom,” Darla said (they would not go to the bathroom on their own, which seems almost Adventist in itself). As we layered the sauce and cheese onto the enchiladas, we were told how the sermon was “very interesting.”

“Did you know that the holocaust was actually caused by the Jesuits? Bill

Hughes talked all about it today.”

I rolled my eyes.

“He had so much to say. It was so powerful.”

“We should invite Stephen for dinner,” my wife said, trying to change the subject.

We liked to invite him, as he was family.

I wondered if Stephen would want to eat cheese. I thought back to how Darla

recently told me about how his sister brought up pizza and they got into a fight about Ellen’s rules of eating cheese.

“We are NOT supposed to be eating cheese,” he shouted. Not being the type to back down, she called him a “stumbling block.” He did not take that well. The rest is a family legend.

The daughter in question was raised an Adventist and left it behind when she moved out. She was not the only one. While both sons were Adventists, out of four girls, only my wife was active in the church. One of the girls was agnostic and seemed uninterested in religion for the most part. The oldest girl in the family, Anna, was in and out of the church, but never committed.

I wondered what their childhood religion looked like. I thought back to how my wife told me about the other Bill Hughes church that fell apart. What kind of childhood do children have when they are raised in that kind of nonsense? I wondered. Later, when I would scour the Reddit Ex-Adventist message board, I would read all about broken adults that had been abused by ultra-zealous parents who believed in following Auntie Ellen to the letter and listening to power-crazed pastors like Hughes and his ilk. Imagine being able to draw a crowd like that. How is it that God bestows such a blessing on those who preach conspiracy? How many people has Bill Hughes brought to Christ? How fruitful has my ministry been? Bill Hughes can fill a church almost effortlessly. Back in Queets, getting people to come to church is hard. Some weeks we have no one. Who am I to question God? God has raised up these pastors for His mighty work. Ellen White says so.

Trying to make sense of Bill Hughe’s message and popularity was a form of mental gymnastics. Trying to make sense of it under the umbrella of Ellen White’s writings made it even worse.

“He’s such a kind man,” we were told by one of the Countryside congregants. “He’s even better in person!”

It didn’t make any sense. Here he was preaching straight from Ellen White. He must be chosen by God! Ellen White says we can’t question our pastors and leaders. We must follow and obey. God has hand-picked them for a very special purpose. Everyone but my wife and I seem to see it.

Maybe he isn’t as spiteful and vengeful as he seemed in that sermon we

watched. Maybe we watched it with the wrong spirit? Could we have been too critical? Maybe I should watch some more YouTube videos of him preaching?

I watched some more of his videos but quickly found the same critical person trying to proclaim he had been wronged by a church that was in deep apostasy. The Jesuits were destroying the world behind the scenes and the church was in on it. He seemed angry, and vengeful, and demanded that we all figure out how to become perfect before the fast-approaching time of trouble. They spoke about him as if he was their idol. Ellen White, Bill Hughes, Daniel & Revelation, and then the rest of the Bible. Jesus’ name was mentioned only in passing.

Later on, we were resting in the back bedroom. I was silently reflecting on the changes that life had brought us. At that moment I heard a rustling in the front of the house. The sound was frantic, as the door busted open and both of my wife’s parents rushed into the house. They had been outside talking to someone who had driven up. Darla rushed to the back while Freddy was tearing through papers in the front. He called Darla. His voice was heavy. I could tell he was out of breath and frantic.

“Where are they?” he shouted.

“I am getting them!” Darla said. “They are back here!”

“What?” he said, unable to hear Darla over the sound of his frantic searching.

What could they be looking for, I wondered.

Darla came rushing out of her bedroom, which was right next to the room we were resting in. “I found them!” she said.

I looked out the door and saw her carrying some of Bill Hughes’ books in her hand. She held them up and rushed down the hall towards the front of the house. “I said

I have them!” she said, having noticed that Freddy was still rustling through everything in his way.

“The Bill Hughes ones?” he snapped.

“Yes,” she said. “Give them to her,” she added, pushing them towards Freddy. He grappled at them and made his way out to the driveway. 

It was quiet once again. A frantic search for witnessing materials came to a

hushed close. Later we were filled on the event. A woman who was looking for a nearby house for rent had asked for directions. After a little friendly visit, Darla and Freddy found out that she was interested in learning more about Jesus. The first book to come to enter their mind was “The Enemy Unmasked.” What a way to share the risen Christ!

The woman would make her way to her home, open up this book, and learn all about Jesus through the eyes of a madman going off on the Jesuit infiltration. I silently pondered the idea of witnessing Christ through mindless anti-Jesuit propaganda. Sadly, many Seventh-day Adventists will have no issue with such a book being handed out to spread the gospel message. Although Christ says “Peace is what I leave with you,” the message has been turned into one of fear. “Be afraid. Teach fear.” Another fallacy in the teaching. The message is not to bring one to Christ, it is “get others to think as we do.” It is scary if others think differently. We must have the same fears to feel confident that we

have the truth.

Back on the coast, our supervising pastor wanted to meet with us. We discussed some of what was happening with Countryside. He identified it as an offshoot right away. He let us know that his church had been split by an offshoot very recently and that much damage had been done. I shared how the people at Countryside appeared so kind. The pastor said, “they will be nice to you as long as you think like them. But once they know you don’t agree with you, it will be the end of it all.” At the time he did not tell me that this was the case with religion in general. I would find that out much later. But I was nowhere near that point yet. In my mind, I did not expect them to ever find out that I thought differently. I had been silent this long, and I could keep it up forever if I needed to. There was no reason for me to say that I didn’t think as they did. Rather, my desire was to show them that I loved them and that we had some common ground. Christ was the common ground. That’s at least what I hoped deep in my heart. I was courting both worlds, and I didn’t realize just how dangerous of a game that was.

Perhaps my inaction was a form of deception in itself. Maybe I should have said something and parted ways. Yet, with in-laws being involved and the inner mental dilemmas that I was dealing with, it was hard for me to think about part ways just yet. I had heard about the dangers of extremist offshoot groups more and more from people in the church at this point. For my first decade in Adventism, I had never heard a word about extremism. Now, as a missionary, it was starting to pop up a little. But never in sermons. No, it was never talked about at the potluck table or during a regular sermon. It was almost as if the general population was not privy to it. Only when I was a missionary did I start to hear about these matters.

I had heard a story of Shepherd’s Rod* members telling Native Americans that in order to be saved, they would have to become vegan and give up all meat. This was from a literal belief in Ellen White and worked to push many native people away from Adventism. Strangely archaic and arbitrary dietary restrictions within this group has precedence over the following verse: “As for the one who is weak in faith, welcome him, but not to quarrel over opinions. One person believes he may eat anything, while the weak person eats only vegetables. Let not the one who eats despise the one who abstains, and let not the one who abstains pass judgment on the one who eats, for God has welcomed him. Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand. One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind.” Romans

14:1-23

Note: Shepherd’s Rod is yet a very traditional “hardcore” SDA offshoot (the SDA church attracts them like flies to poop). Like numerous offshoots, they are strict followers of Ellen White. Ellen was a huge proponent of an animal-free vegan diet. Many Adventists do not realize that White struggled with eating meat while telling others that they would need to give up meat. Many Adventists refuse to acknowledge that Ellen White ate herring and oysters throughout her life while saying that it was the duty of Adventists and Christ-followers to not touch meat or anything unclean. Ellen’s vegan message is huge in extremist branches of Adventism, with the health message being pushed and peddled like snake oil during the days of yore.

During this period of my life, I focused on reading Ellen White, the Bible, and working through the Daniel & Revelation study I was given. I preached a couple of sermons at the Forks church. These were on the merits of Ellen White, and I took cues from the way Albert and the people in the DVDs spoke. I referred to Ellen White as Sister White. I was legalistic. The small Forks congregation seemed to thoroughly enjoy my sermons and messages. Nothing negative was said about them, and I was invited to preach again.

During this time of life, I eschewed secular movies and so-called worthless

literature. I believed that the only use of my time that was valuable was in search of Biblical knowledge and deep study of Ellen White’s prophetic writings. I felt that my daughter was in danger of being influenced by other children who were interested in makeup or watching secular cartoons. While my daughter watched a few secular cartoons, we made sure to thoroughly vet them. During Halloween, we fretted that she would be corrupted by the youth of the village and that she would one day want to participate.

After a year and a half of living in Queets, I had decided I wanted to teach, as I felt woefully unprepared and unfit for the work in the village. I felt that as a teacher at an Adventist school, I would have a team I could work with and lean on. I also desired to live in a larger city again. I was now working on a master’s degree in TESOL and I wanted to put that degree to work. Therefore, I applied to work at an Adventist school, “Nile Union Academy” in Cairo, Egypt. I immediately got an email back expressing a strong desire for us to go teach. From that moment on, we made plans to prepare to go to Egypt. It would be a few months still before we would leave.

Part VI :: First Departure

It would take some time for us to get our paperwork approved by the Conference. In the meantime, we would wait at the in-law’s house and bide our time by bouncing from Countryside and the Deer Park church. At this point, you may think we were crazy to keep going to Countryside. I would agree. I should have stopped at this point. Yet, I didn’t for a couple of reasons. I didn’t want to stir up any controversy by appearing to distance myself. Second, I was curious about everything that was taking place. Third, I was confused about how this factored in with religion, and little did I realize I was internalizing all these strange beliefs. Lastly, I believed that my presence could cause some kind of good. Perhaps I could be a silent witness for something besides Jesuit conspiracy.

Yet, now, a new type of conspiracy was taking shape. Albert had decided to move away from the Jesuit infiltration for a while (not completely, but a bit), and move towards another threat that a lot of YouTube pastors were loudly proclaiming. It was also a message that Bill Hughes had also been vocal about. There was also this pervading idea that the General Conference of the Seventh-day Adventist Church had become corrupt. In addition to Jesuits, Freemasons also had control of the SDA church. Prominently displayed on the board were quotes by Ellen White telling about a shaking in the church and vaguely describing how the SDA church was in apostasy. Paradoxically, Ellen White also claims the SDA church is not in apostasy and to assert it is in apostasy is a sin against God. In addition, sermons now came with imagery showing death and destruction from real and imagined world events. 

Albert had been testing the waters, and the waters were just right for this type of thing. The congregation LOVED it! They ate it up a schoolboy devours jello on a hot day. Images featuring mass graves, FEMA camps, holocaust footage, and more graced the screen at the front. In addition to singing “We have this hope that burns within our hearts” we learned how hopeless life had become. Population control via chemtrails and poisons to water became regular topics. The table out front was now loaded with pamphlets about all sorts of population control measures. No matter how many were added, the people wanted more of it. An aging population was eating up death for breakfast on Sabbath morning and could not get enough! “Friends, it is time to get ready for the Sunday law. There is not any time to tarry,” Albert would say.

There was a form of excitement missing from the lives of the congregations, and Albert was able to give the people what they craved. It was what they were lacking. For the audience, it was exciting and thrilling to hear how one would be able to escape natural death, and instead, be ushered away to receive a special golden crown* for one’s hard work in avoiding the Jesuit Sunday law. This was the very thing that Bill Hughes had used to fill up churches, and now Albert  was able to tap into it as well. This was how Hughes had drawn a crowd. Now Albert was on the way to realizing his own dreams. It was obvious that Albert was trying to capitalize on Hughes’ success by aiming to draw his own crowds with the same type of message.

*Note: Ellen White writes of golden crowns that will be given to those who enter into Heaven. Stars to represent those saved by the individual will be present. This works-based idea is not based on any biblical text, but is instead a remnant of Methodism, which Ellen White was a part of before she became the Adventist prophetess and cofounder.

As we waited for lunch, I found myself tarrying near the pamphlet table. DVDs on a wide variety of subjects graced the table. DVDs about the poisons in air water and food (chemtrails, fluoride, and GMOs) were particularly notable. “You have to watch that one,” Stephen said, handing me them. I never could get myself to do so. Freddy had always been against fluoride. I wondered if he had embraced it, would he still have his teeth? Looking around the room, teeth were a rare commodity. Dentists seemed to be in wide support for fluoride. For pastor Albert, fluoride as a weapon for population control was another Sabbath sermon.

The final month of living up on the in-laws' property was hard. I could tell that there was a lot of tension now about matters pertaining to religion and life. Stephen’s demeanor had begun to change from a happy demeanor to a more militant demeanor. Everything he talked about was about the Pope, Jesuits, or the Authorized King James Bible. Every time that the Great Hope was mentioned, he would go into a tirade about how Ted Williams and his Jesuit cronies should have never corrupted Ellen White’s* work. Freddy was also easily irritated, and he would spend much time talking to Pastor Albert, who had become somewhat of a mentor figure to the in-laws.

*Note: Although the Ellen White estate continues to push Ellen White like a stubborn turd as the true end-times prophet and present-day messenger of the Lord, those in more extremist camps tend to venerate her as on a level close to that of Jesus. It was stated that the Ellen White estate had been corrupted by Jesuit infiltrators who had added and subtracted words from her books.

I can’t express how happy I was to finally leave that place. I was given a

behemoth stack of DVDs to watch on the coast.

“These are better than anything the conference is going to tell you,” I was told. Many were from obscure pastors on YouTube or sermons by Albert that we had missed out on.

“You are going to watch them, right?” Stephen asked.

This stack of DVDs also included nail-biting sermons by the legendary Bill

Hughes and other pastors that were not involved with the Jesuit-controlled General Conference of the Seventh-day Adventist Church. As we left the mountain behind, our U-haul rocking back and forth on the washboard roads, with our Volkswagen towed behind, I felt a deep sense of relief. Why had I come back to that, I wondered.

Part V :: Jesuit Infiltration & Murder

When we returned from the coast, we were renewed and hopeful. Spending all this time away from what I saw as a growing toxic situation felt good. I longed deeply to be selected for this new missionary opportunity and I knew it was all in God’s capable hands.

It was now the height of summer, with the sun’s rays hitting down upon us as we ate lunch outside. As we sat down for a dish of Pad Thai my wife and I had cooked, I heard a vehicle approaching. Albert climbed out and made his way toward us as we wolfed down delicious noodles.

At first, the two men exchanged small talk.

“Are you hungry?” Freddy asked.

“No thanks, looks good though,” Albert replied.

“It’s something from Asia,” Freddy said. “But it’s good.”

Albert was silent for a moment but quickly broke that silence.

“I have some disturbing news,” he said.

“What is it?” Freddy asked. Darla gave a look of apprehension. She especially hated disturbing news.

“Pastor Harry has been using mind control with his hands during his sermons…

He’s been waving them all over the place,” Albert replied.

I continued to wolf down sticky noodly goodness while I intently listened. I

thought about how pastor Harry preached, and how it was natural for people to use hand motions while speaking. I remembered doing the same in my public speaking class.

“I have read a lot about pastors that use their hands to hypnotize their church. It goes all the way back to the Jesuits,” Albert added.

“Yes, I know that he does that,” Freddy said.

“But that’s not the disturbing part,” Albert said.

“What is it?” Freddy said.

“The truth is, well… I think he killed Eddy.”

Freddy was silent for a moment (which is incredibly rare for Freddy). Eddy was a long-time friend of Freddy's who had been going to Deer Park for many years. It had been previously mentioned that getting Eddy over to Countryside would be a good move. Eddy was quite old and had a lot of respect in the Deer Park Church. He had recently passed away from being sick.

“I was thinking the same thing. Eddy knew too much. We were so close to getting Eddy to come over to Countryside, and when the Deer Park pastor was made aware of that, this was bound to happen.”

Albert shook his head. “We are in solemn times. In times like these, the Jesuits will do anything to stay in power.”

I could not believe what I was hearing. Here was this idea that a Jesuit-controlled pastor murdered one of his elders because he wanted to go to another church. I was not the only person to witness this. My wife was next to me, as was Darla. This is perhaps a very embarrassing memory, and one that will be disputed by some, but the truth is that information was exchanged about the death of Eddy at the hands of Pastor Harry. A bold assertion.

“He’s a Jesuit. There’s no doubt about it.”

How I had grown tired of hearing the word Jesuit. I had never imagined that it would become such an obsession. Is this what living far out in the country and not having anything to do does to a person? Was I seeing the fruit of Auntie Ellen’s pastoral life message? It seemed that, in today’s modern life, there was nothing to keep one busy, so all sorts of strange beliefs could come up and there was time to dwell on them. I was not the most religious person previously. Was this religion? Was this what I had missed out on by being “in the world?” It was starting to seem like it. Is this what I really wanted my child to be raised in?

I thought back to my decision to leave Ukraine. I thought about the indecision I had. The intense sadness I felt at the airport when it was too late to go back. I thought about the plane flying over Kyiv, and the city below being obscured with clouds. Would I ever go back? Why did I leave? For this? Is this what I left for?

Watching television was one way to escape religion for a while. The family

enjoyed watching a variety of shows in the evenings, even some shows that Auntie Ellen would probably chafe under. The news was one family favorite, and it was good to “keep updated on the world” to be ready “to run to (or stay in) the hills.”

“The old Ellen White books are not safe either,” Freddy said during a commercial. “Anything printed after the 1950s has been tampered with by Jesuits. The Ellen White books you want are the old hardcovers. At the Deer Park church, they are only giving out the new stuff. And they have that Great Hope book.” Stephen’s ears perked up. All of the sudden, the look of a demon flashed in his eyes. His eyes grew large and his fists started to clench.

“The Great Hoax is a COUNTERFEIT” he snapped. “The Adventist church and Ted Wilson are going to have to answer for that in the judgment.”

“Why is that?” my wife asked.

“They took out all the important parts of the Great Controversy and are using that book to deny the fact that the Pope is the anti-Christ. It’s watered down. They had no business changing Ellen White’s words. But they changed what she said in the same way that the Jesuits have been changing the Bibles.”

He spoke with passion. There was deep anger—hateful rage—in his voice. This topic would now be off-limits.

The Great Hope and the Clear Word Bible* were now in Stephen’s sights and they would be brought up regularly from that point on. Even to this day, when I see a copy of “The Great Hope,” I read it as “The Great Hoax.”

*Note: The Clear Word Bible, later renamed “The Clear Word” (with Bible removed) is a controversial Seventh-day Adventist version/rewrite of the Bible. It is partly controversial as it was written by one single solitary person. Not a good look!

At the time, I wondered if The Great Controversy was a bit too big of a book for many to digest. The Great Controversy is a huge book with hundreds of pages that, frankly, many don’t have the time or inclination to bother reading. Even I had a hard time with it, as I found the subject matter quite dull. Yet, to a traditionalist Adventist, this is the greatest book ever written—NO CONTEST!

Sending copies of the Great Controversy* around the country is expensive

compared to the Great Hoax… I mean hope. The subject matter in the Great Hope is also a little less ominous and is, well, more focused on hope. Well, as focused on hope as any Adventist book can be.

*Note: Ellen White’s opus, the Great Controversy, was, and still is, used far more than the Bible during these sermons. Ellen White boldly claims that she had viewed the future and that the time of trouble such as the world has never known before would be upon the Adventist remnant, who would have to flee from the rest of the world, which would blame them for the final plagues falling. This kind of “us versus them” thinking seemed to lead to extremist churches like Countryside forming and telling people that the end is nigh.

Yet, what bothered me the most at this time was that passing out the Great Hope was looked down on, but passing out Bill Hughes’ The Secret Terrorists or Enemy Unmasked was somehow better? Another book they liked was “National Sunday Law” which had less to do with Jesus and a lot more to do with fear. While the Bill Hughes books are fringe, National Sunday Law can be found in almost every SDA church and is a manual for understanding what’s about to go down, if you know what I mean. Once I explained this, everyone nodded in agreement and we enjoyed American’s Got Talent. No… Once again I was completely silent and just listened. Good Christians just listen and don’t speak up, so that’s what I did. Of course one day I would leave Adventism and write a book about this time, but that comes later. As far as these people were concerned, my silence was a form of agreement, and I imagine they were happy to be molding me in such a way.

Darla looked up from her iPad the men went on about the book. She had been enjoying a game of Subway surfers, but I imagine that the heated discussion factored into her untimely death in the Subways of Cincinnati. A perturbed look was visible on her face. I wondered if she would say something. I hoped she would quiet them down. She used to say “tone it down,” but had been doing that less and less. It’s a shame because it really should have been shut down. It should have been shut down months ago. Yet, here we all were, and things were just starting to take off.

Part IV :: Camp Meeting & Time Away from Countryside

“I have reason to believe that Pastor Harry is a Jesuit,” Albert said on one of his visits.

“Yeah?” Freddy replied.

“I was talking to Ronald, and Ronald said that he caught Harry again with his prayer beads out.”

“He can’t seem to put aside the Catholic in him,” Freddy said.

“There’s no doubt that he’s working for Rome.”

First, it was songs to Mary, and now it was secret prayer beads. I had no reason to believe that the Deer Park pastor used prayer beads. So what if he did? Do prayer beads hold a Catholic power? But, why would he be sneaking it? Caught with his prayer beads out seemed loaded with innuendo. What did all this mean? What was the end game here? Was Albert insecure about the other Deer Park church? There was no doubt that he coveted the Deer Park members. More members brought more tithe money and more power. They also brought more legitimacy. It was no secret that the Deer Park church, Countryside, and the Three Angels church were all vying for the same group of people—other Adventists.

I didn’t dare question Albert. Even such thoughts seemed wrong. Who was I to judge? The Lord knows the heart, not I. As I buried my head in Ellen White, I read how pastors are placed in positions of authority by God. They are handpicked. I was not one of those chosen ones, so I had no right to argue or question God’s wisdom on such matters. Being around the in-laws is rarely an optimal situation. I do believe that is why God commands women to leave the home and cleave to their husbands after marriage. He doesn’t tell the new son-in-law to move in with his wife’s parents. Yet, I had done that, and as I write this book, I can see how it was the wrong path to take.

The opportunity to get out came toward the end of the summer. A camp meeting

was being held in Spangle at Upper Columbia Academy. I had never been to a camp meeting nor had I been to Upper Columbia Academy, but getting out of Freddy’s hair sounded like a divine appointment.

At this point, the idea of living the country life and emulating what I was seeing in the woods of Steven’s county no longer appealed to me. Getting a job out there seemed

nearly impossible, and I had missed the previous joys of life, even if they were not right in the eyes of the ever-watchful auntie Ellen. My wife and I talked things over, and we decided it would be good to get back into missionary work. Although we had left Ukraine almost suddenly, we missed the idea of being the hands and feet of God. Therefore, at the upcoming camp meeting, we would seek out an opportunity to enter mission work once again.

At this point, I wondered if anyone would bother taking us. We didn’t do anything spectacular in Ukraine. Yet, I was hopeful. I needed to get out of that place and have my own space with my wife and child once again. Despite how much Freddy said he loved having us around, the relationship was strained, and this strange new form of religion was mixing with every aspect of life.

I remember breaking down as we packed to go to camp meeting. Freddy has always been a control freak, and he hovered over us as we packed for the weekend away. I was a wreck at this point but didn’t understand why. Looking back, I understand it, but I didn’t then. All those end times sermons about Jesuits and destruction were rubbing off on Freddy, and I could tell he was getting more irate and irritated easily. His insistence on perfection made living with him a chore. Yet, this was what he was picking up at church. Driving off onto that annoying washboard road felt good.

It would be good to not hear something negative about the Deer Park church for a few days. Whether it was at the in-law’s house or Countryside, there was something negative said about the other SDA church in town. The negativity really had a way of making us all feel down and didn’t help to bring a feeling of holiness to life. Strangely, Ellen White had written much about maintaining a happy home and life, as if angels were always watching (and they were). Yet, this didn’t seem to be followed at all. To me, this was a form of cognitive dissonance and it began to seep in. Why do we follow some

of what she says, but not other things?

At this point, we had been given stacks of DVDs and pamphlets that either

Stephen had made or that others had passed along. The NIV and other Bible

perversions were still being pushed. Many sermons featured various YouTube pastors that were not affiliated with the church.

“Those who use these other Bibles will never be able to understand the plan of salvation.” I had never heard these words outside of Countryside, but it seemed that there was an army of unaffiliated pastors proclaiming similar messages. Many were adamant about the end times, reporting on every small controversy they could muster up. Some picked at the smallest news story, showing how it was proof that the Sunday law was not far off now.

“The government is working to bring about the end of the world quickly now,” some would proclaim. Over five years later and the same message is being spread, but with little more proof that their words are correct.

“These are JESUIT Bibles!” Albert would shout at Countryside. “The New International perversion, the New King James. They are ALL worthless!”

“Some of these pastors are good, but you have to be careful with trusting all they say. They may be using a New King James.”

“It’s worthless,” Stephen hissed. He was perhaps even more vocal than Albert about the perverted Bibles. He always had some new argument against them, as if I was hiding such a Bible and reading it in secret.

“WORTHLESS!” Albert would proclaim once again, standing at the pulpit.

“Absolutely worthless.”

I wanted to grow in Christ, to be better. To do better. I was reading all I could. I had given up almost every other form of literature and was either spending my days reading from the Bible or soaking up Ellen White. I devoured her books. Patriarchs and Prophets, Prophets and Kings, Ministry of Healing, Child Guidance, Adventist Home, Mind Character & Personality, and many, many others. I loaded my mind with the compilations about Heaven, Pastoral Ministry, Help in Daily Living. At this point in life, I believed that reading Ellen White was like sitting at the foot of a prophet, soaking in all the knowledge that she had to bestow. Having someone to guide my knowledge of the Bible was, in my mind, truly priceless.

Getting back into missionary work would be a great way to give back to God for all that He had given me. It would also be a way to help ensure that my daughter would be saved from the time of trouble. Although I did not believe that Jesuits had a monopoly on the world’s power, I did believe in the end-times prophecies that the SDA church preached, and I believed that there was much truth to that aspect of Albert’s sermons. That’s one reason I stayed. Allowing my daughter to grow up with some knowledge of the truth was vital. I did not want her to be lost*. I loved her more than anything.

*Note: Later, I would read how many new Adventist parents felt this same way. Many would become ultra-traditional or conservative, raising their children in a very strict household where they would grow up with full knowledge that they were the remnant. I would read of overbearing parents that used abuse and coercion to keep their children in line. The idea of having children that would not be saved was a nightmare scenario for many parents. This idea was taking hold of me, and looking back, I can see it clearly. It is apparent in the way I had returned to the US to live in the country, obsessively read Ellen White, and try to live an absolutely perfect life. Yet, I feel that I was spared as I was never raised this way. In my heart, I have always been a free spirit that believes that a person needs freedom to choose for themselves.

I hungered for things to be revealed to me. I think that all of us do at some point. We desire to know the truth. We all want to believe that we have knowledge that others do not. It makes us feel special. Unique. For the people of Countryside, it seemed that Albert had that knowledge, and so did Bill Hughes. The truth seemed strange and outlandish, but that made it more delicious. With a truth that nobody else could believe in, it made the select few even more chosen. Like how Noah’s seemingly outlandish proclamations resulted in nobody setting foot on the ark, so were Albert’s and Hughes’. This time there would be people climbing aboard the ark, and that ark was known as HALEBOP…I mean Countryside.

Camp meeting was a good experience for me. It helped to be around people that seemed a lot less extreme (at least on the outside)*.

*Note: I had been observing that the SDA church had attracted many people from fringe backgrounds that bought into conspiracy and beliefs having to do with the end of the world. Ellen White’s visions did not help, as much of what she wrote about had to do with the imminent end of the world and a Sunday law that would lead to international persecution. Coupled with her call to flee the cities, the faith drew preppers and those who quickly subscribed to a wide variety of conspiracy theories.

Best of all, at the camp meeting, we got a lead for a missionary opportunity on the Washington coast. It involved working with Native Americans and would be a chance to have our own place once again. I loved the coast and the idea of working there sounded like a dream come true.

Part III :: New Hymnals & Bill Hughes

As stated earlier, Bibles were not the only books that had been corrupted by Jesuits. The new Adventist hymnals were also worthless. Their songs were also corrupted, and therefore, old hymnals needed to be used.

The problem was, it was hard to get one’s hands on old hymnals. The only

hymnals for sale at the Adventist Book Center were the new ones.

While pondering the next course of action towards beginning my own country living dream, the phone rang. It was pastor Albert.

Albert and Freddy spoke on the phone quite often at this point. It was a point of pride for Freddy to be rubbing shoulders with the pastor, and as they were neighbors, it made things even better. Albert relied on Freddy and Freddy reveled in the idea of being helpful. The two gentlemen spoke for a while and the subject of hymnals came up.

“You know I don’t want to use the new hymnals,” Albert said.

“I know,” Freddy answered.

“I was told that the Deer Park church has some old hymnals that are they are not

using.”

“Yeah. I remember from when I was there we used the black-covered hymnals.”

“Those are the ones I want,” Albert said.

“I can go check next week. They would probably let us have them.”

“That would be fantastic!” Albert said.

“There’s no reason why they would not give us them. They are not being used.”

“Great! Are you sure they are the black-covered ones?”

“Yes. The black cover ones. I remember using them years ago before they

changed to the new ones.”

Even more so than Albert, Freddy had a disdain for anything new. Older was always better. The older hymnals had nostalgia that the new hymnals lacked. They were from a better time. A more simple time.

I thought it interesting that a new church that seemed involved in an Adventist turf war would seem so brazen to ask the older and more established SDA church for

books.

I decided to go rest in the bedroom and let my mind rest for a while. I decided it would be good to lay in bed and read a book to pass some time. I had been given two small books written by a man known as Bill Hughes. One was called “The Enemy Unmasked” and the other was “The Secret Terrorists.” The members of Countryside were singing the praises of these books, and I was told Bill Hughes was “an incredible speaker” and someone that we needed to meet. There had been so much feverish talk about these two books amongst the members as of late I realized that I should probably get up to speed on it. Not only that, but Stephen was a die-hard Bill Hughes fan. If Bill Hughes was a band, Stephen would have been his groupie. No joke!

I opened The Enemy Unmasked and started to read it. It did not take long for me to grow uncomfortable with the subject matter. Not because I was afraid, but because it seemed so far out there. I was not sick of the idea of the material being true. I was sick at the idea of people I knew and loved actually believing what had been written on these pages. I was also sick at the idea of those who I considered intelligent about the Bible thinking that the things in this book were somehow the truth.

The subject matter of the book was quite absurd to me. And I came to realize that this was where much of the Jesuit obsession had originated. As I turned page after page, I read how Jesuits had, singlehandedly, staged every major world event since their inception. The rise of Islam was a Jesuit orchestration. World Wars I and II, the Vietnam War, and more recent wars were all Jesuit-fueled battles to assert behind-the-scenes world domination. The Jesuits had, for some reason infiltrated the Titanic, and sunk it. Jesuit power was flexed on 9/11 when Jesuits were behind the destruction of the Twin Towers in New York City. Jesuit fury knew no bounds, and with the power they had amassed over the years, they were now at the center of world domination. Leaders of various countries were said to be Jesuit puppets, with the strings being pulled in the

Vatican.

Yet, it didn’t stop there. There was more. Churches had been infiltrated by Jesuit spies. Even the smallest Adventist churches could have Jesuits in their ranks. Pastors masquerading as Seventh-day Adventists were actually Jesuits reporting back to the Pope. Any organization with any kind of power was a Jesuit-run operation hellbent on mind control, domination, and the eventual destruction of civilization. The Sunday law would come from the hands of the Jesuits, and the day was fast approaching. In some sense, it was already here!

I continued reading, out of curiosity. I found myself skimming, skipping pages, and sighing. How could intelligent and rational people believe this? Yet, I would later find out that Bill Hughes's books had been disseminated across the world, from Oregon to Africa. His adherents were numerous. The number of people he had led to Christ was legion. I felt sadness wash over me. The little church seemed so pure, so good, so reverent. Yet, was this really what Pastor Albert believed? Was this really what the friendly people imagined the world to be like? I thought back to my travels to dozens of countries and I had never seen any sign of anything remotely resembling the things that Bill Hughes wrote about on these pages. In my eyes, the world was far more complex than that. The idea of a single one-world government seemed outrageous. Yet, all the wars, all the fighting, all of the bickering—it was all staged—like a grand television show, from the Vatican. The facade continued, and only Bill Hughes had insider knowledge of what was happening.

“Pastor Harry (of the Deer Park Church) doesn’t like these books,” Albert told Freddy. “He doesn’t let his members pass them around.”

“Why not?” Freddy balked. “They are the truth. People should know the truth.”

The next Sabbath, we made our way to Deer Park. The only reason Freddy was going was to ask about the hymnals. Darla did not feel good, so Freddy wanted to get back home rather than go onward to Countryside for potluck and further study of the end times.

After the morning classes at Deer Park, Freddy took one of the Deer Park elders aside and asked him about the hymnals (it was the same elder that made fun of his wife for being absent).

“I was just asking because you guys are not using them and I know the other church needs them.”

“You know, it’s not my decision to make. But you are right. We are not using them. I will bring it up to the board at the next board meeting.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it. I know Albert is going to appreciate it, too.”

I could tell the elder was suspicious of the other church. He knew more about offshoots* than I did.

*Note: Just like Mormonism, Adventism has its fair share of offshoot churches. I don’t know how many there are, but it is numerous. An offshoot church is a church that splits off from the main denomination and brings its own ideas with it. While an offshoot is not a good or a bad thing, there are some negative attributes to offshoots which have historically included various types of abuse, strange outlandish doctrines, and power that is centralized in one or very few people. Offshoots are typically very traditional, with a strong belief that the main church they broke away from is in a deep state of apostasy.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom and then we will head out,” Freddy told me. I had already gone, so I decided to wait outside near the pastor’s study. Before Freddy entered the restroom he looked to see if anyone was around and pulled something from his pocket. It was a copy of one of Bill Hughe’s infamous books. The words “he doesn’t let his members pass these books around” repeated in my head as Freddy slipped a copy of the book behind some missionary magazines. He then darted into the bathroom.

While Freddy was emptying his bladder for the journey home, I took the book out of the rack and slid it into my backpack. Freddy came out and seemed a little giddy that he had “done the Lord’s work and helped spread the message of truth.” We went out to his jeep and made our way back to the house.

Freddy was not aware that his plans had been foiled. In his mind, he had done a good deed. The truth was, upon entering the house, I added the book back to their collection. Instead of tracts based on the Bible, Bill Hughes's books were now used in witnessing and plenty were placed next to the door to be handed out to visitors. In my mind, a spiritual battle was going on. Was it right for me to take the book back after it had been given? Yet, the pastor did not want it there. It was his church. Common courtesy would dictate that we respect the wishes of a church leader. Yet, on the other side was the idea that giving such a book—even one that I did not agree with—was Freddy's mission and it was his choice. After wrestling with it for a while in my mind, I was convinced I made the right choice.

A few weeks passed, and the green light was given on the hymnals. They would              be given to Countryside! Albert was ecstatic. It would save him a lot of money and time and the congregation would be able to sing a wide variety of songs. Talk about a win-win!

Freddy slithered into the church and gathered the Hymnals. Later, Albert came by the house to pick them up.

“It will be great to have these hymnals,” Albert said.

“Yes,” Freddy said, proud to have been an integral link in the chain to bring music to Countryside.

Freddy had been one of Deer Park’s piano maestros before changing churches, and I knew that it bothered him to see another take his place when we visited Deer Park

the week prior.

“I don’t like the new ones. They had no reason to change them,” Albert added.

Freddy nodded in agreement. Then, as the wheels turned in his head, he added,

“last week they sang songs to Mary out of the new ones.”

My ears perked up. Wait, what? I thought. There were no songs sung to Mary at church. What could he possibly mean?

“Is that right?” Pastor Albert said, with a look of shock on his face. “I’m not

surprised with what the Jesuits are up to,” he added.

He shook his head slowly as he spoke.

“Yes. One of the songs just kept repeating ‘Hail Mary, Hail Mary.’ It was very hypnotic.”

I must have been completely hypnotized because I was there the entire time and heard no such song.

“That’s what I am saying. The Jesuits corrupted the new hymnals, too. That’s why I wanted these older ones. You can’t be too careful!”

I never could figure out where Freddy got the idea that hail Mary was sung at church or why he would make something up. Why did he say this in front of us? In his mind, did he hear something we didn’t? I had never heard the phrase “hail Mary” in an Adventist song before in my life.

Yet, Freddy was beyond stubborn in all things, and would never be dissuaded. Once he “remembered” something, there was no changing his mind. I had seen it time and time again on previous occasions. I was silent, just like a good little Christian should be.

The wheels in my mind were turning rapidly, and I was wondering what to make of all this. The wheels in my mind had many more occasions to rapidly turn as the weeks progressed. As we continued to attend meetings at Countryside, more and more about the Jesuits were brought up. The Jesuits became a main focal point of sermons and discussion. I thought back to when we were new, and how the Jesuits were a byword or not mentioned at all. Now, the entire congregation was alive with Jesuit obsession. I wondered if Albert had tested the waters, to see if the congregation would be receptive to this kind of idea. I wondered if Albert’s goal was to be the next Bill Hughes. It was obvious that he looked up to Bill Hughes in a big way. Bill Hughes commanded a huge audience when he would visit Countryside.

“The parking lot was full. People had to stand in the dining room and watch him on the television. There was no room in the sanctuary. Even the mother’s room was full!” Darla exclaimed. “You really should come when he visits next. They even shut down the Three Angels* church so they could come to hear him.”