Raising the Ruins (22 page)

While recovering in 1978, Mr. Armstrong stepped up efforts to write more for the church’s publications. He completed work on his best book to that point,
The Incredible Human Potential
. To get the college back on track, he had closed Big Sandy and decided to start over in Pasadena with one freshman class, making sure that it began as
God’s
college. On the
TV
program, he took over broadcasting responsibilities for the first time at age 85! In his early years, Mr. Armstrong pioneered the radio broadcast. But when it transitioned to
TV
in 1967, Garner Ted became the presenter. That changed abruptly when Mr. Armstrong fired his son in 1978 for trying to take over the work.

So his first year after heart failure was not easy to say the least. And the pressure only intensified in 1979 after Ted and other dissidents convinced California’s attorney general to launch an assault against Mr. Armstrong and the church. Ted couldn’t overpower his father from the inside, so he attempted to do so from the outside. But his attack again fell flat on its face in 1980.

And then the church really took off. The same year the state of California attacked, Mr. Armstrong reestablished the
Good News
magazine, which had turned into a cheap tabloid. He restarted it in 1979 with a circulation of 120,000.

As the church entered a new decade, Mr. Armstrong concentrated his energies on
family
. “The very foundation of any stable civilization is a solid family structure,” he wrote in 1979.
⁷⁹
He knew the church’s stability depended in large part upon the strength of its individual families. His two-fold plan—Youth Opportunities United (
YOU
) for teenagers and Youth Educational Service (
YES
) for pre-teens—was designed to bring families closer together and to support parents in educating their children in the ways of God. In 1981, at the age of 88, Mr. Armstrong started a new magazine for young people—
Youth 81
. Later that year, he reopened the college campus in Big Sandy. He regularly visited the church’s youth camps during the 1980s. In fact, it was while Mr. Armstrong was visiting the youth camp in Orr, Minnesota, in 1985 that he became too ill to continue with his travels, which prompted his early return to Pasadena and eventual death. His last field visit in 1985 was to a
youth camp
. Then, back in Pasadena, one of his last public appearances was before the
students
at Ambassador College, when he handed out
Mystery of the Ages
.

These many youth activities established and emphasized at the end of Mr. Armstrong’s life had a tremendous impact on me personally. Besides drawing me closer to my parents, they strengthened my relationships with other like-minded peers who wanted to succeed in life and avoid the common pitfalls of youth in this evil age. I traveled all over the Northwest with my youth group for sports tournaments, dances, talent shows and other activities. After my father was transferred in 1985, I had the same experiences in Oklahoma, Texas and Kansas. I attended
WCG
youth camps in Minnesota and Texas and was accepted as an Ambassador student in Pasadena and Big Sandy. This was all during the 1980s.

It was the work Mr. Armstrong did at the
very end
of his life, as an elderly man, that impacted my life the most.

And like the youth programs, every other church activity enjoyed prosperous growth after God raised Mr. Armstrong back to life in 1977. By the time he finally died in 1986—at 93 years of age—the church’s annual income had about tripled. And after taking over responsibilities as full-time presenter on
The World Tomorrow
at age 85, the program became one of the highest-rated religious programs on television.
The Plain Truth
,
Good News
and
Youth
circulations all skyrocketed.

In 1985, while nearly blind, Mr. Armstrong began yet another monumental project. “With the writing of the new book
Mystery of the Ages
,” he wrote, “God has helped me this year to do the best work of my 93 years of life!”
⁸⁰
He did his
BEST
work during his 90s! In fact, before he died, Mr. Armstrong said he had understood more in the last 10 years of his life than he had all the previous decades put together.
⁸¹

That’s a tremendous level of achievement for a man who would have rather died at the age of 85. “It would be so nice if I could retire,” Mr. Armstrong told a group of ministers in 1981, “because it’s a pretty heavy load I have to carry. But I’m not thinking of myself, I’m thinking of what I’ve been called to do. And it must be done.”
⁸²

With Mr. Armstrong, God’s work always came first. “I don’t dare slacken my efforts,” he wrote in 1968. “Most men retire when 16 years younger than I [he was 76 at the time]. This work must go on! “
⁸³

As early as 1957, he wrote, “When a man decides he already has achieved success, and retires—quits—he never lives long.”
⁸⁴
Had Mr. Armstrong ever given up and retired, he would have died long before his 93rd birthday—just like three of those ministers who retired in their 60s have since died.

Mr. Armstrong kept right on serving God even as an elderly, blind man. And in doing so, he got the Worldwide Church of God back on track, defeated the state of California in a nationally known lawsuit, became one of the most popular religious personalities on television, nearly quadrupled the church’s growth in every major category, raised up and promoted numerous youth programs, traveled the world to meet with presidents and prime ministers and wrote a 363-page book.

“For Many People”

Herbert W. Armstrong prepared his last will and testament on January 12, 1986—four days before he died. Knowing he was near death, his first directive was that Herman Hoeh officiate the funeral “without pomp and undue ceremony.”
⁸⁵

In his second directive, he bequeathed all his property of “every kind and nature” to the Worldwide Church of God.
⁸⁶
Think about that
. He had been pastor general of that church for more than 50 years. And though it started pitifully small, at the time of his death, the church’s annual income was $164 million. As founder and pastor general of the Worldwide Church of God, Herbert W. Armstrong could have amassed a personal fortune by the time he died. As it was, the house he died in belonged to
the church
. The plane he traveled in belonged to
the church
. The cars he commuted in belonged to
the church
. And what he actually did own at the time of his death—even though he had three living children—he left to
the church
.

Had he been in it for the extravagant opulence that Tkach Jr. accused him of, can you imagine what kind of retirement package he could have set up for himself after 30 or 40 years as pastor general? Yet, he served God and tirelessly worked right up until the day he died. And at his death, every material possession he owned went right back to the church.

In his will, he explained that he chose not to leave his descendants anything—not because of any ill will toward them—but because he believed they had “adequate means of their own” and because leaving what he had to the church would ensure that it “be put to more permanent and beneficial use
for many people.”
⁸⁷

That about sums up Herbert W. Armstrong’s legacy.

Even on his deathbed, his final wish was for everything he owned to go toward the work so that “many people” might benefit.

Mr. Armstrong put
God’s
family and
God’s
work first. And as difficult as that might be to grasp, looking at it humanly, isn’t that what we should expect from a man of God? Jesus Christ, after all, said, “He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.”
⁸⁸
That’s what Jesus taught—and
lived
. On one occasion, referred to in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus was preaching to a packed gathering inside a home. A messenger interrupted Him to say that His mother and siblings were outside and wanted to speak with Him. Jesus then turned and looked over the crowded room in response and asked, “Who is my mother, or my brethren? And he looked round about on them which sat about him, and said, Behold my mother and my brethren!”
⁸⁹

Wouldn’t you expect Jesus Christ to put God’s family and God’s work first? “I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work,” Christ said.
⁹⁰
It wasn’t an option for Him—He
HAD
to work. He never considered retirement. He kept right on working until the day mankind murdered Him for putting God first.

P
UTTING
G
OD AND
H
IS WORK FIRST IS THE BASIC THEME OF THE
B
IBLE.

There is a reason Christ called this the first and great commandment: “Thou shalt
LOVE THE
L
ORD
thy God with
all thy heart,
and with
all thy soul,
and with
all thy mind.”
⁹¹

God’s love is unselfish, outgoing concern for
others
. It is
GIVING
—first to God, then to all of mankind secondarily.

Herbert W. Armstrong put this principle—
THIS LAW
—into action. He
gave
and
gave
and
gave
and
gave
. Then he died—exhausted from the heavy load God had laid on his shoulders. But God brought him back to life—and though he would have rather died or at least retired, he kept right on giving for
ANOTHER 8½ YEARS
! His lifelong work of service and sacrifice for the good of
others
proved, as our Savior promised it would, that it truly is more blessed to give than to receive.
⁹²

God blessed everything Herbert W. Armstrong did.

Yet it didn’t take long for Tkachism to ruin it all.

History Repeated Itself

“I want you, brethren, to think about and understand what happened to God’s Church in the 1970s lest history repeat itself! I want you to see the ‘fruits’ of rebelling against God’s way and God’s government.”
⁹³
Mr. Armstrong issued that warning to the
WCG
less than seven months before he died.

He told us
EXACTLY
what would happen if we didn’t learn the lesson of the 1970s. He wrote,

“The “fruits” of the rebel leaders and “liberals” of the 1970s should now be clear to all. After some 35 years of steady growth in all facets of the work of God’s church, the rate of growth began to slow, then ceased entirely in some areas, and, finally, even decreases began to be experienced in the number of radio and television stations,
Plain Truth
circulation, number of prospective members, number of co-workers, amount of income for the work, etc.—all under the “leadership” of the liberal element. These are well-documented facts that cannot be denied.”
⁹⁴

Facts are stubborn, but so is Tkachism. Even though the lessons had been thoroughly documented, they
REFUSED
to heed them and decided to go their own way after Mr. Armstrong died.

And history ended up repeating itself.

“God’s headquarters has moved numerous times since the days of Moses and the Israelites in the wilderness. … Therefore, if any departmental moves occur, they won’t represent the first time headquarters operations have moved .…”

— Joseph Tkach Sr.

Pastor General’s Report, December 19, 1989

My father staunchly supported the changeover from Mr. Armstrong to Mr. Tkach in 1986. He arranged for all the church members in his Oklahoma City congregation to sign a card encouraging the new pastor general to carry on with the work. He also invited Mr. Tkach, if he could fit it into his schedule, to visit the Oklahoma brethren.

After making church visits to Phoenix, Big Sandy, Chicago and Anchorage in early 1986, Mr. Tkach accepted my father’s invitation and stopped in Oklahoma City on June 7, 1986. According to the
Worldwide News,
quoting my dad, Mr. Tkach’s sermon was “the type of sermon that is good for the ministry and can pave the way … for the type of sermons we need to be preaching to God’s people. It left all with the feeling we need to become more on fire for God’s work, inspiring us to be more enthusiastic and involved.”
¹
Coordinating the special weekend, my dad arranged for the churches to present Mr. Tkach with an oversized greeting card that played “Hail to the Chief,” a fanfare often used for greeting U.S. presidents. The church areas also presented Mr. Tkach with a gold-plated, brass centerpiece as a gift of appreciation for his visit.

Certainly, my father was not against Mr. Tkach’s appointment as pastor general. Even after my dad first began to notice disturbing changes coming out of Pasadena, he tried to push these concerns out of his mind. He firmly believed Jesus Christ was Head of the church. And if leaders at headquarters needed to be corrected for any of their new teachings, Jesus Christ would take care of it.

In the third year of Mr. Tkach’s leadership, sometime in 1988, my dad’s thinking began to change.

The Laodicean Era

Before Herbert W. Armstrong died in January 1986, the
WCG
membership had been warned many times about the final prophesied era of God’s church before the Second Coming of Jesus Christ—called
Laodicea
in Revelation 3. This era is characterized by spiritual lukewarmness—God says the people are “neither cold nor hot.”
²
They trust in material things “and have need of nothing.”
³

Dr. Herman Hoeh wrote in his 1959 booklet
A True History of the True Church:
“This frightful condition lies now ahead of us. Just as the remnants of the Sardis era of the Church exist side by side with the Philadelphia era, so we will continue our work to the very ‘end time’ when another group will appear .…”
⁴
As that statement reveals, we believed another group would appear
separate from
the
WCG
—though undoubtedly composed mostly of former
WCG
members.

But Mr. Armstrong had not ruled out the fact that the
WCG
itself
might turn Laodicean, as the following statement indicates: “But, the bad news, as it appears today, my dear brethren, is that we, undoubtedly of the Philadelphia era … are in serious danger of becoming also the Laodicean era. I am personally much concerned about that.”
⁵

It wasn’t until 1988 that my father began to see this as a distinct possibility. In studying Revelation 2 and 3, he realized that most of the time, church eras
DO
go astray. And once he accepted that historical fact, his discernment sharpened. He then noticed many more teachings coming out of Pasadena that simply did not square with the Bible. By the end of 1988, he was fully aware of the evil lurking within the Worldwide Church of God headquarters.

At the outset of 1989, my father began searching the Scriptures for God’s perspective on all the changes. Why were they happening? Where was it leading? What should we do?

Transfer to Big Sandy

The first time I ever remember my dad expressing dissatisfaction with headquarters occurred sometime in January 1989. As a freshman at Ambassador College, Pasadena, I had given some thought to possibly transferring to the Big Sandy campus for my sophomore year. I knew how my dad felt about the idea. Although he would have supported my decision either way, he had always wanted me to stay at the headquarters campus. Since that is where most of the top ministers in the church were assigned, he felt I could learn more in Pasadena.

During one particular phone conversation about Big Sandy, however, I was surprised to hear him encourage me to apply for the transfer. “Dr. Meredith is over Big Sandy,” he told me. “I think he’s more conservative than some of the ministers in Pasadena.” He was careful not to say much more than that.

I didn’t give much thought to his comment at the time. I was just excited that he was happy for me to apply for the transfer.

Getting the PGR

When Larry Salyer explained in the
PGR
why they discontinued
Mystery of the Ages
, it upset my dad terribly. But to read Mr. Tkach’s own words two weeks later, in the February 14 report—how the book had “peripheral or incidental”
⁶
errors and that it was outdated—was just too much. He had to vent.

He received that issue of the
PGR
on a Friday and then called me that night, February 17, 1989. At first, he was careful not to seem too upset. After a bit of prying, though, I got him to reveal how he really felt. He said, “Some of the things ministers are saying today would have gotten them fired if Mr. Armstrong were around.” I listened in disbelief. Could it really be that bad? He went on to explain that they had discontinued
Mystery of the Ages
because of “minor errors” and “money.” This was the first time I had ever heard that. Here I was at headquarters and no one—none of the ministers, faculty, student leaders—had ever told me that
Mystery of the Ages
was discontinued. My father later said, “We may very well be in the Laodicean era.” He also encouraged me to read the Old Testament book of Malachi—saying that some of the prophecy in that little book may be happening right now.

All of this was a lot for an unbaptized 19-year-old to digest. I tried to piece together my father’s comments with other things I was aware of. Four weeks earlier, during announcements at services, Mr. Tkach told the brethren how upset he had been recently, when he discovered that one of his assistants had been going “behind his back,” complaining about “changes” in the church. Mr. Feazell followed those announcements with a sermon titled “Eternal Truths.” In it, he discussed a number of changes in the church, but reassured the brethren that some things would never change—these so-called
eternal
truths. A week later, on January 28, Dr. Herman Hoeh gave a sermon on “change.” A number of us students had wondered if something big was about to happen.

For me, something big did happen on that night of February 17. The man I trusted more than any other human being on Earth had just told me the church I had grown up in was now headed in a dangerous direction. It scared me.

Beginning of Malachi’s Message

A few weeks after our phone conversation, my father began working on a manuscript to explain, from a biblical perspective, why the
WCG
was making so many changes. He now believed the church had indeed moved into the Laodicean era and that a number of Bible prophecies explained
how
and
why
it was happening.

We continued our occasional phone conversations, talking about school, family and areas of Scripture he had been studying—usually the minor prophets. But he never mentioned his paper. When I told him I was accepted to Big Sandy on April 4, he was glad to hear that I would be coming home toward the end of summer—and that I would only be a few hours from home during my sophomore year. More than that, he was glad that I would be getting out of Pasadena—the seat of the anti-Armstrong liberalism, so far as he was concerned.

He and my mom arrived in Pasadena on May 16 for my sister’s graduation. Once again, he made no mention of the manuscript. No one, except him, knew about it—not even my mom.

Meanwhile, rumors had been flying around campus that the church was going to put the Pasadena property up for sale. On Memorial Day, May 29, a few friends of mine went to a Dodgers game with Fred Stevens, the
WCG
accounting manager who assisted Leroy Neff, the church treasurer. I happened to ask Mr. Stevens about the rumors to sell the headquarters property. He said, “If anything like that ever happened, Mr. Tkach is not so dumb as to keep it a secret.” He brushed aside these rumors as a “bunch of lies.”

My Dad’s Initial Feedback

On Friday, July 14, I flew to Oklahoma to spend the rest of the summer at home. My dad picked me up at the airport and we drove directly to Robbers’ Cave in southeastern Oklahoma, where my dad’s congregation was sponsoring a youth campout for the Oklahoma area churches. It was a three-hour drive I will never forget.

For four months, my dad had been working on his paper, telling no one about it. He occasionally worked on it at home in his office, but that was inconvenient and nerve-wracking with my mom around. His favorite work place was a vacant building in Enid, Oklahoma, where he pastored a small second congregation of about 100 people. The church area rented a room in a vacant building for services and Bible studies and the owner liked the congregation so much, he just gave my dad a key and said he could use it whenever he wanted. Thoreau had Walden Pond—my dad had a remote second office in a small Oklahoma town. He may have looked funny hauling a typewriter in and out of that vacant meeting hall, but it worked well for him. He wrote the bulk of his manuscript at that secluded location, about an hour and a half from home.

When he picked me up on July 14, he had a rough draft of
Malachi’s Message
tucked away in his briefcase, in the trunk of the car. During the drive, he told me about a number of other things going on in the church—again, things I was totally unaware of. He said several ministers in the field were disgruntled with the changes coming out of Pasadena. And adding to his comment months earlier, about the church being in the Laodicean era, he said he believed the church was headed toward a “definite split.” He later said he wanted me to read something he had written that explained all of this. He had kept this conversation bottled up inside his mind for four months. I could tell that he was relieved, just having gotten it off his chest. The thought of reading his paper made me nervous.

What if, after all, my dad was wrong? What if God
was
behind all of the changes in the church? Whether I read the manuscript or not, I knew, based upon what he had already told me, that I needed to study more on my own. I needed to prove for myself who was right and who was wrong. I didn’t want to just take my dad’s word for it.

I put off reading it until Sunday morning, two days later. We had planned to head back home that afternoon. As I read, I could tell my dad was anxiously awaiting any kind of feedback. He was very fidgety—constantly in and out of the cabin, trying to “keep busy” while I took the time to read.

I got through about half of it before we had to gather our things to leave. “So, what do you think?” he asked when I stopped reading. “Well, that definitely will get you fired,” I responded. Its content certainly rang true—it was
inspiring
in fact—but I couldn’t yet commit to accepting the material without first digging into Mr. Armstrong’s foundational teachings. How could I say the church had fallen away from the truth when I hadn’t yet fully proven the truth in the first place? I was 19—interested in baptism—and had so much to learn.

He agreed that the content would undoubtedly get him fired. But believing it was from God, he fully intended to deliver the message to church leaders in Pasadena—perhaps in January of 1991—the end of the work’s third 19-year time cycle. That was still a year and a half off, I thought. In the meantime, I had some studying to do as a sophomore in Big Sandy.

We talked about his paper most of the way home. Even with my limited understanding, I felt pretty sure about one thing: that we were now in the Laodicean era. But was it my dad’s place to warn headquarters and the church about this? This is the question I wrestled with most over the next several months. Why not some other minister? Shouldn’t a high-ranking minister from headquarters do this? Why couldn’t my dad just tend to his flock in Oklahoma and let someone else lead the fight?

“This Church Is Laodicean”

Mr. Tkach was in Big Sandy for my orientation on August 14. He gave an odd introductory message—considering it was the kick-off to another exciting school year. He seemed paranoid and defensive. He was upset that some people were criticizing him. He then proceeded to criticize Mr. Armstrong, saying that in the past we had focused too much on prophecy.

Later that week, I met a sophomore whose dad also happened to be a minister in the
WCG
. From what I could gather, it seemed like his dad was upset about the changes too. I remember feeling good about that—like I wasn’t totally alone in this.

The next week, on August 22, I got a part-time job in the college library. For the most part, I was responsible for organizing and storing sermon, Bible study and forum cassette tapes. Many of the older tapes, by Mr. Armstrong and other leading ministers, weren’t even available to students. But as tape librarian, I had access to the archives. This wonderful collection proved invaluable as the semester wore on. As changes worked their way into the church, I often made side-by-side comparisons between what they were preaching and what the church taught when Mr. Armstrong was alive.

On Sunday night, October 1, I called my dad to chat about college and church subjects. During our conversation, he told me that his assistant, John Amos, had heard headquarters intended to remove Dr. Meredith from his position as head of the school in Big Sandy. My dad went on to say that he wondered if I should continue on at
AC
after my sophomore year. That comment shook me more than the Meredith rumor.