Parched for Political Wisdom

Contributor

So many of our leaders are foolish—and not just in Washington. As the school year begins, we deeply need wisdom in my Texas town.

Mizzu Cho / Pexels

America has a problem far deeper than partisan polarization or divergent policy preferences or dissatisfaction with the last election’s results. We’re living in a culture increasingly bereft of wise leadership, guided instead by people thrown to and fro by the ever-changing whims of their own hearts and those of their donors and constituents.

Too many of our leaders have swapped public service for attention seeking, issuing policies and pronouncements—each seemingly more extreme than the last—geared more toward growing follower counts and approval ratings than toward building a good and functional society. Ordinary people in the middle are left scrambling to meet our families’ needs: driving stakes into sand dunes, laying foundations on shifting tectonic plates.

Wisdom is an old-fashioned word, and I’m often unsure we even know what it means anymore. But I know what it’s not. Charisma and bombastic one-liners on X, Bluesky, or Truth Social might win elections and attract a crowd, but they are almost never wise. Publicly claiming moral authority while privately taking a different path might be fun for a while, but it’s undeniably foolish. Intelligence and good business acumen, decisiveness and steely resolve might propel someone to the highest levels of power, but it’s no proof of wisdom. “Better a poor but wise youth,” Ecclesiastes says, “than an old but foolish king who no longer knows how to heed a warning” (4:13). Pandering to the base by offering the most extreme version of your views might get your campaign bumper sticker on more cars, but this too is not wisdom’s path.

It wasn’t all that long ago that our problem with foolish leaders seemed concentrated in Washington. Back home in our local communities, we could roll our eyes at distant excesses and ineffectiveness and get on with our lives—maybe not always agreeing on everything, but wise enough to know that we have to be able to live with each other. But the bombastic playbook that has ruled Washington for years is being used more and more frequently on Main Street, destabilizing our local institutions and disrupting our communities.

Take the situation in my own town right now. Some members of our school board are trying to undo a 2020 decision that changed Robert E. Lee High School to Legacy High. The swap back then was contentious and complicated—I wrote about it at the time for Texas Monthly—but what strikes me now is the utter disconnect between this renewed debate and what we actually should be discussing as a new school year begins: how to improve student outcomes. Insofar as the school board spends time on this instead of more practical and pressing concerns, it’s making our children collateral damage in yet another skirmish of a never-ending culture war.

I understand how we got here, of course. On the national scale, President Donald Trump has revived naming debates by talking about calling the Washington Commanders the Redskins again and committing to “restoring names that honor American greatness,” like changing the Gulf of Mexico to the Gulf of America and returning Mount Denali to McKinley. That makes it politically expedient for politicians in a deep-red community like mine to talk about names too, as one board member did when announcing his proposal via a patriotic Fourth of July post.

It’s all political fun and games—except they’re playing with my children’s education. Rather than wisely leading our community to solve real but boring public education problems, like improving secondary math scores and early childhood literacy, these politicians are busy airing their opinions and bringing strife (Prov. 18:2, 6).

“Where there is no vision, the people perish,” Proverbs 29:18 says (KJV). And I think that’s it. That’s the thing so many of us are feeling. Though I know Christ’s kingdom is eternal, this political moment feels like cultural perishing.

I live in the West Texas desert, and when the summer heat sets in—heavy and dangerous and oppressive—we long for relief. So it’s no surprise to me that throughout Proverbs, wisdom is described as bubbling, life-giving, refreshing water. When we’re parched, finding water is all we can think about. And on a societal level, we’re parched for wisdom.

We need more leaders who pursue what is “right and just and fair.” We need leaders who are slow to speak but quick to “listen and add to their learning,” prudent leaders who care less about momentary political wins than about humble acts of care for the future (1:1–7).

The school renaming story is just one example from my community, yet it’s illustrative of something happening much more widely—in red and blue states, liberal and conservative communities, religious and secular spaces alike. While on the right we’re occupied with manufactured arguments about renaming schools for Confederate war heroes, politicians on the left are out pandering about pipedreams like city-owned grocery stores and free childcare. This is the same illness, just different symptoms. It’s leadership built around virality and vote totals instead of wisdom, insight, humility, and discernment. It’s foolishness.

And though our need for wisdom seems particularly desperate right now, it’s not really new. Even our local fight about the high school name started decades ago.

Back in 1954, the Supreme Court ruled in Brown v. Board of Education that segregated public schools are unconstitutional. But in southern cities across the United States, including here in Midland, Texas, nothing really changed. Our high schools didn’t integrate until 1968, and our elementary schools failed to integrate until a federal ruling intervened in the ’70s. And in 1961, Midland opened a new segregated high school: Robert E. Lee.

Today that naming decision is largely recognized, even among many of its present-day defenders, as an act of resistance to federal integration orders. The Midland school board wasn’t alone in this kind of folly. “In the 84 years between Lee’s death and Brown, a Texas school adopted his name on average once every 10.5 years,” Daniel Harris, a local theologian and historian recently wrote. But in “the 21 years between Brown and the last Texas school to adopt his name in 1974, that rate more than quadrupled: one every 28 months.”

By 2020, there had been rumblings for years about changing the name, but it took the events of that summer—George Floyd’s death and subsequent unrest nationwide—to ignite the local debate. The initial idea was that Robert E. Lee would become Legacy of Equality and Excellence, or LEE for short. But the 2020 board (a different slate of leaders than the ones now in office) rejected that suggestion, settling on Legacy instead.

“Board President Rick Davis said at the time that he was initially open to a LEE acronym,” the local news reported, but “after continuing to listen to people’s reaction to the acronym and praying about it,” he said, he became convinced that the acronym would “not go far enough in disassociating ourselves from having a public school named to honor a Confederate general who fought for the southern states’ ability to continue the abominable institution of slavery.”

I know many in my community disagree, but to me this reflects genuine biblical wisdom. He listened (Prov. 12:15). He prayed (Col. 1:9). And he changed his mind (Prov. 19:20), taking the more difficult political path to stay true to his convictions.

Photography by Carrie McKean

Legacy High School in Midland, Texas.

Photography by Carrie McKean

Legacy High School’s football team, Midland Lee Rebels.

Many of Davis’s loudest critics, including current board members, frame the 2020 LEE rejection as evidence of a woke, power-hungry school board that refused to listen to locals and defied Proverbs 11:14: “For lack of guidance a nation falls, but victory is won through many advisers.” But this critique is a shallow reading of that verse. The promise of victory depends on the presence of wise counselors, not frenzied crowds airing their opinions.

One reason we elect leaders is that our founding fathers knew we needed to constrain ourselves, to base our laws on something more measured and substantive than the whims of the public. Public servants in a republic like ours are supposed to be level-headed, circumspect people who feel the weight of their responsibility to the whole of the community, considering all the generational and social ripples of their decisions. And given the weightiness of that position, we need them to humbly discern what is best.

In a 2004 sermon, pastor Tim Keller defined wisdom as “knowing how things really happen, knowing how things really are, and knowing what to do about it.” The wise have moral character of mind and heart, he said, so that they do the right things even when there’s no rule about it, even when they have the right to choose otherwise, even if they have every excuse to take the easier, less-controversial path.

Wisdom is not a synonym for intelligence or even knowledge. As Gordon T. Smith says in Called to be Saints, “Knowledge in itself easily ‘puffs up’ and also leads to dogmatism. True wisdom is evident in humility” and constant willingness to learn. The wise “know something of what they know while also recognizing what they do not know,” Smith adds, and wisdom is “marked by humility and charity toward all, most notably those with whom we differ.”

In Philippians 1:9–10, Paul drew a direct connection between wisdom and overflowing love: It is through love, he wrote, that we are able to discern what is best.

None of this sounds like your average American politician, not even the ones who thump their Bibles. Sure, there are exceptions. But more often, people of character, humility, and love are deemed weak and unsuitable for American politics from Washington on down.

Where does that leave us? Here in Midland, it means that a few weeks before the next school year, our community is once again bickering about the name on the building instead of addressing what’s happening inside. We’re mistaking bluster for bravery and letting ourselves be provoked to rancor rather than doing what it takes to work together and educate our children well. In some twisted way, we’ve managed to make both too little and too much of what this school is called—and meanwhile, we still have vulnerable children missing out on the exceptional public education they need.

I don’t discount the real concerns about history, wokeness, and justice that are drawing us into this name battle. But wisdom takes all that in and holds it in tension. In Proverbs 8:11, wisdom is compared to rubies. As with most precious stones, a ruby’s beauty is revealed in its multiple facets; its value increases if it is cut skillfully, ensuring every glimmering angle is revealed. This is the way of wisdom: not a zero-sum political game but careful consideration of multiple perspectives in pursuit of goodness, beauty, and truth.

True wisdom may be costly. It may not seem useful in the moment, and for many politicians, there’s little incentive to be wise. But God offers to generously give wisdom to those who seek it in faith (James 1:5–8). Leaders—in offices from local school board to statehouse to Congress or even the White House—only have to humble themselves and ask. We the people are parched for it.

Carrie McKean is a West Texas–based writer whose work has appeared in The New York Times, The Atlantic, and Texas Monthly magazine. Find her at carriemckean.com.

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News

World Vision Shielded from Bias Suit, Ninth Circuit Rules

Emily Belz

The clash between nondiscrimination law and religious beliefs on sexuality drew the attention of many Christian organizations.

The San Francisco headquarters of the US Circuit Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit.

Justin Sullivan / Getty Images

A customer service representative can be central to carrying out a religious organization’s mission in the same way a pastor is, a federal appeals court ruled, shielding the employer from federal nondiscrimination statutes.

World Vision had rescinded a customer service job offer to a woman, Aubry McMahon, after learning she was in a same-sex marriage, and she sued over discrimination.

The US Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ruled that World Vision was exempt from the woman’s bias suit, reversing a district judge’s ruling in 2023.

Customer service reps “are World Vision’s ‘voice,’” the court ruled. The three-judge panel, all appointed by Democratic presidents, was unanimous.

The case has implications for how courts handle the tensions between nondiscrimination protections for sexual orientation and religious organizations enforcing certain sexual ethics among their employees.

Many Christian organizations were following the outcome of the World Vision case, with denominations like The Foursquare Church, the Southern Baptist Convention (via the Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission), and the Seventh-day Adventists filing briefs in support of World Vision.

The appeals court ruled that the “ministerial exception,” which shields religious organizations from lawsuits over their hiring and firing of faith leaders, applied to McMahon, the prospective employee. But it said nondiscrimination laws still applied to all “non-ministerial” positions at World Vision.

The court cited World Vision’s belief that “corporate and individual behavior witnesses, reflects, and testifies about what we believe as a ministry and as individual believers” and that staff should “[f]ollow the living Christ, individually and corporately in faith and conduct, publicly and privately, in accord with the teaching in His Word (the Bible).”

The organization has written standards of conduct that say biblical sexuality is expressed “solely within a faithful marriage between a man and a woman,” though in 2014 it briefly said it would hire employees in same-sex marriages before reversing its position.

In the ruling the court cited recordings of calls between World Vision customer service reps and donors to show how the reps “perform key religious functions central to World Vision’s mission.”

In one call, a donor talked to a rep about how a Zimbabwean teenager the donor had sponsored for nine years was doing during the COVID-19 pandemic, and then the donor and the rep prayed together for the donor’s family.

“What’s important is that the court really grasped the key role that donor relations in particular plays in connection to advancing the mission of organizations like World Vision,” said John Melcon, an attorney with Taft law firm who handles religious employment cases and worked on one of the amicus briefs in this case. “I think the decision will have positive implications in terms of the application of the ministerial exception to donor- and supporter-facing roles in the ministry context.”

McMahon’s attorney Michael Subit called the ruling “a small tear in the fabric of anti-discrimination law” but said that religious organizations could “try to expand it to a giant hole,” according to the San Francisco Chronicle.

Last year another appeals court, the Fourth Circuit, ruled that a Catholic school was shielded under the ministerial exception from a discrimination lawsuit over the firing of a teacher.

These cases are bubbling up in higher courts now because in 2020, the US Supreme Court ruled in Bostock v. Clayton County that Title VII, the nondiscrimination section of the federal Civil Rights Act of 1964, applies to gender identity and sexual orientation.

Title VII has an exemption for religious employers to hire based on beliefs, but courts have so far dodged the question of whether that exemption applies to all employees or just the ones that fit the “ministerial” role.

“Courts haven’t really come to a consensus on that,” said Melcon. “But [this ruling] is still a great ministerial-exception ruling.”

But the court put limits on who counts under the ministerial exception.

“A religious employer’s universal requirement that its employees help carry out the organization’s religious mission or live consistently with the organization’s religious values cannot be enough to qualify for the ministerial exception,” Ninth Circuit judge Richard Tallman wrote for the court.

He got more specific: “Secretaries, accountants, and custodians at World Vision … would not qualify for the ministerial exception because, unlike [customer service representatives], they are not charged with conveying the organization’s message to its donors.”

Religious freedom attorneys had been optimistic about the Ninth Circuit taking up the case because the court has a recent track record of rulings in favor of religious organizations, like a major 2023 ruling siding with the Fellowship of Christian Athletes. Attorneys from the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty argued the case for World Vision.

The ministerial exception has been applied to non-Christian faiths as well, like a Zen-center staffer and an inspector for Jewish dietary laws.

The list of religious organizations that filed amicus briefs on the side of World Vision was long: Billy Graham Evangelistic Association, Samaritan’s Purse, Colson Center for Christian Worldview, Moody Bible Institute, Summit Ministries, Christian Legal Society, Accord Network, Cru, Christian Medical & Dental Associations, InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, Islam and Religious Freedom Action Team of the Religious Freedom Institute, Jewish Coalition for Religious Liberty, The Navigators, National Religious Broadcasters, the Council for Christian Colleges & Universities, Evangelical Council for Financial Accountability, Focus on the Family, The Master’s University and Seminary, Tyndale House Ministries, and Young Life, among others.

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Church Life

How a Reluctant Kenyan Student Became a Full-Time Christian Journalist

Marvin Olasky and Moses Wasamu

At first Moses Wasamu saw writing as a burden. Then it became a calling.

Moses Wasamu

Courtesy of Moses Wasamu

How does the youngest child from a family with seven boys and three girls in Africa become a full-time Christian writer? I asked Moses Wasamu, 55, a new CT correspondent from Kenya.

Moses grew up in Kenya’s Great Rift Valley, from which many champion runners come. Three things shaped his life: an early introduction of God, a young introduction to politics, and lots of reading and writing.

Moses said, “The Anglican Church Kenya introduced me to God. My siblings and I went to church religiously every Sunday. This was because of the influence of my mother, Julia Onienga, a born-again Christian.” He remembers confirmation as a member of the Anglican Communion, a major event for parents and their children, under the teaching of a fiery bishop, Alexander Muge. “I went through this ritual more as a religious duty than as a personal commitment to God. Yet that is what God used to draw me to himself.”

Muge’s criticism of former Kenya president Daniel arap Moi also drew Moses into politics. “His preaching made the high and mighty uncomfortable. My political consciousness came from listening to his fiery preaching at an early age.”

Kenya was then in political turmoil following an attempted coup in 1982. Moses remembers that his older brothers brought home daily newspapers—Daily Nation, the government-owned Kenya Times, and The Weekly Review, a publication run by US-trained nuclear physicist Hilary Ng’weno—that deepened his political consciousness.

“I also remember reading the US-published Reader’s Digest voraciously. I liked it for its inspiring stories, hilarious jokes, and advice on health issues,” Moses said. “Exposure to different publications at a young age gave me the desire for reading and writing.”

In elementary school, Moses’ English teacher Rachel Lamenya made it mandatory for all students in fifth grade to enroll in the Kenya National Library Service. Every week, students had to borrow a book from the library, read it, then write a summary of the story.

“At the time, it looked like a punishment, but when I look back, I realize it laid a strong foundation for me as a writer and a student in later life,” Moses told me. “At 11 or 12 years of age, I was clear in my mind that I wanted to be a writer.”

Moses had a crisis when he finished high school and didn’t qualify to enter a public university as expected. He questioned how he would fulfill his desire to become a writer: “I felt like my life had come to an end. I started drinking as a way of forgetting my misery.”

In 1994, though, “I got saved,” he said. “The miracle happened one night while I was on bed reflecting on my life. The fear of people and the unknown, which had kept me from making that decision, came to an end that night.”

That change led to his enrollment at Daystar University, a Christian school. There, for the first time, he saw the leader of an institution—vice chancellor and professor Stephen Talitwala—lining up with students and staff for meals at the cafeteria. He learned humility from this example and honed journalism skills during a course, Writing and Editing, where “you earned extra marks for publishing an article in any of the local dailies.”

At Daystar, Moses reported on school events for the university’s publication and also published articles in local newspapers. In his last year, he applied for an internship at a big Kenyan organization, Nation Media Group, and was the only Daystar student picked. “This was big for me,” he said. “What I had dreamed about over the years was coming to pass!”

But Moses did not get the “thrill and satisfaction” he anticipated: “I sensed that I wanted to write, but in a way that honors God and which brings eternal significance.”

In 2004 Moses began to volunteer with Scripture Union Kenya, a nondenominational organization that evangelizes and disciples children. That year he also helped to found The New Sudan Christian, the first Christian newspaper in South Sudan, a quarterly that became a monthly in 2010. (It went online in 2016 and is now called The Christian Times.) Moses became head of communication with Scripture Union, but his job there ended in 201l.

The next two years, he recalled, “were my night of the dark soul. I fell sick and was diagnosed with muscle spasm. … I was so scared because I was not sure I would sit down again and work on a computer, which was my main tool of trade. Yet during that time, God revealed himself to me as Jehovah Jireh, my provider, and Jehovah Rapha, my healer. As a family, we never lacked food or drink. God covered all our bills.”

Moses found one highlight among two years of lowlights—he became one of more than 350 writers from 50 countries who contributed to the Africa Study Bible printed by Oasis International Publishing.

In 2013 Moses traveled to South Africa for a three-month international leadership-development program. As he came into contact with Christians from different countries and denominations, Moses said Galatians 3:28 became a reality for him: “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” He said he became aware of his own biases and now counts as friends Christians from all over the world.

Moses reported that God also “used different events and people to lead and guide me into my calling.” The Anglican priest from South Sudan who led development of The New Sudan Christian, John Daau, urged Moses to “go to Bible school and become an Anglican priest.” Moses did go to Bible school but eventually had ordination not as an Anglican but as a Kenya Assemblies of God minister.

He also used email to make contacts that led to writing internationally: 3 stories in Christianity Today from 2011 to 2013 and 19 in World magazine from 2014 to 2016. Moses joined CT as a correspondent earlier this year. He quoted to me the summary attributed to Karl Barth: “Christians should approach the world with the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other.”

Moses now sees telling stories of God’s creation as a calling: “As Christians, we cannot close our eyes to what is happening around us, because God reveals himself in all things, the good and the bad. As a Christian journalist, my first calling is to God and to the truth as revealed by God.”

Moses’ bottom line: “I want to be found worthy when Jesus comes back, telling stories of God’s creation in this world.”

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News

El Salvador’s Crackdown Sweeps Up Pastor and Legal Advocate

Franco Iacomini

José Ángel Pérez and Ruth López are imprisoned without visitors; Christian non-profit Cristosal suspended activities in the country after receiving threats.

People hold signs to show their support for Salvadorian environmental lawyer activist, Alejandro Henríquez, and Pastor Jose Angel Perez who were imprisoned.

Daniela Rodriguez / Contributor / Getty

Pastor José Ángel Pérez removed his blue cap and began to pray. He stood under a tree, surrounded by members of his congregation, Misión Cristiana Elim in El Triunfo, a rural community 15 miles southwest of San Salvador.

On the morning of May 13, Pérez took part in a demonstration at the capital, just half a mile from the presidential palace. He joined participants from an agricultural cooperative for small-scale coffee growers called El Bosque, which Pérez chairs.

The cooperative took a series of financial hits; members used land as collateral for defaulted loans, and 300 families in El Triunfo faced eviction from their homes.

“We know that no one can help us,” Pérez said in his prayer. “All our companions, our brothers, our neighbors are going to be evicted from their homes, and only you, God, can touch the hearts of those who have the power and authority to help us.”

“We want to ask that it be you who goes to that place where the president of this republic is, so that he may lend us a hand, so that we may be able to live in our own homes, which we have built over the years.”

Hours later, the pastor was arrested. Authorities also detained the cooperative’s lawyer, Alejandro Henríquez, along with Pérez.

Under the régimen de excepción—an emergency decree in force since 2022—police held Pérez and Henríquez in prison without a formal indictment for weeks. By May 30, both were charged with public disorder and resisting arrest. They’ve been in prison without visitors ever since.

Pérez’s congregation, a small church of around 60 people, has continued holding services for the past three months with the help of pastors from nearby San Salvador and Santa Tecla and fellow leaders from its denomination, Misión Cristiana Elim.

Elim hired legal counsel for Pérez, provided assistance to his family, and arranged for food and hygiene kits to be delivered to him at the detention center Centro Penal La Esperanza, according to Mario Vega, the denomination’s founder and leader.

Since the arrest, authorities have allowed Pérez and Henriquez to have just one conversation with their lawyers. Their families were not permitted to visit. “There is no way to know the quality of the treatment they receive,” said Vega.

Ruth López Alfaro, a Salvadoran lawyer specializing in anti-corruption, is in a similar situation.

López served as the chief legal officer for Cristosal, the country’s top human rights nonprofit. Police arrested her at her home on May 18, initially accusing her of embezzlement.

“It’s an impossible crime for her,” said Noah Bullock, executive director of Cristosal. “Under Salvadoran law, only public servants could be charged, and she’s not a public servant.”

Fifteen days after López’s arrest, the attorney general’s office changed the charge to illicit enrichment, another offense that applies only to public officials.

Founded in 2000 by Anglican bishops Richard Bower and Martin Barahona, Cristosal defended Salvadorans during the country’s civil war and amid the record-high rate of homicides in the gang war. Its recent reports called out the CECOT megaprison receiving Venezuelan prisoners deported from the US as illegal. Their analysis states that both the US and El Salvador “facilitated the transfer of illegally deported individuals into a prison system stripped of legal protections and judicial oversight” and therefore are “acting in coordination to commit grave human rights violations, showing disregard for human dignity.”

The use of the Salvadoran prison system to receive people deported from the US has been useful for Donald Trump’s strategy over immigration and made him a key ally in the region. In January, Trump praised Bukele’s leadership and called him an example for other nations in the Western Hemisphere. The Salvadoran leader—who once called himself the “world’s coolest dictator”—took the opportunity to approve a bill in Congress increasing the term of office from four to six years and abolishing the limit on reelections. Last week, the US Department of State backed the decision.

At Cristosal, López worked to enforce transparency and fair treatment of Salvadoran citizens, filing over a dozen petitions against the government, including petitions around unconstitutional mining and alleged negotiations between former legislator Osiris Luna Meza and gang leaders. (Now as the deputy minister of justice, Luna directs penitentiary centers and has legal custody of López.)

Cristosal suspended activities in El Salvador in July and moved its headquarters to Guatemala City due to threats. “Cristosal became a direct target for the government. We would have no way to defend ourselves in a neutral trial against this type of persecution, so we decided to move,” Bullock said.

“The arrest of our colleague Ruth López, lawyer and human rights defender, is not an isolated case but part of a broader strategy of exemplary punishment meant to intimidate,” he stated in a press release.

On the day Pérez and Henríquez were arrested, Salvadoran president Nayib Bukele accused his opposition of being behind the protests. “We were witnesses of how humble people were manipulated by self-styled groups of globalists and NGOs, whose only real objective was to attack the government,” he wrote in X.

In response, at the end of May, Bukele signed a new foreign agents law, which authorizes a 30 percent tax on donations to nonprofits, including religious groups, that receive support from outside the country. The Inter-American Commission on Human Rights said in a statement that the law “may limit the legitimate operation of civil society organizations and civic space in the country.”

Last month, Amnesty International declared López, Henríquez, and Pérez prisoners of conscience—the first since the end of El Salvador’s civil war in 1992.

For Vega, Pérez should be labeled a prisoner of faith. Last week Vega preached in a pastors’ meeting in San Salvador about Matthew 5:10–12:

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

“I underlined ‘falsely,’” he said. “That’s what is happening with pastor José Ángel.”

“His vision of what it means to be a pastor is not someone who preaches once or twice a week,” Vega said. “A pastor must be side by side with his congregation in its sufferings and its longings. Being there for those who suffer is what led him to prison.”

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News

Foreign-Born Religious Leaders Face Deportation. This Bill Could Change That.

Harvest Prude

The Religious Workforce Protection Act could allow many churches and ministries to keep their pastors.

Sandy Huffaker / Contributor / Getty

These days, Bruno Ponce often has a particular worship song running through his mind.

The song, Tauren Wells’s “Making Room,” is a bold declaration of faith: “We’re making room / For a miracle from you. / All we want is your presence. / Turn this room into heaven.”

Ponce has sung those words many times while leading worship for Lantana Community Church in Bartonville, Texas. But the refrain has become more than just a worship anthem—it’s now a personal prayer. Ponce prays for a miracle that will allow him and his family to stay in the United States and continue his ministry.

They only have until March. After that, current immigration law requires Ponce, in the US on an R-1 nonimmigrant religious worker visa, to go back to his home country of Brazil for a year. It would mean uprooting himself, his wife Anna, and their two American-born daughters from the place they now think of as home.

The church is eager to keep the worship pastor. Lead pastor Calvary Callender has hired an immigration attorney and invested time and resources to bring Ponce on staff. He doesn’t want to lose him now. But the US immigration system has proved to be an obstacle course replete with steep costs, shifting requirements, and daunting backlogs.

The same dilemma faces thousands of foreign-born faith leaders, international religious workers, and missionaries from overseas who are in the United States on religious worker visas, as well as the churches, parishes, and ministries they serve.

Religious-worker visa holders may work in the United States for five years. After that, they have to self-deport for at least a year before they begin applying for a new R-1 visa from scratch.

In April, some lawmakers introduced a bipartisan bill that would fix the issue by extending religious workers’ visas until decisions come about their green card applications. The bill would also allow religious workers to make small job or location changes without affecting their green card application process.

It’s a targeted fix that does not change the number of green cards or make it easier for applicants to be approved. Christian advocates say even this small mercy would relieve major disruptions to religious workers’ lives and their communities.

“The access that American churches get to worldwide leadership gifts is something that benefits us,” said Galen Carey of the National Association of Evangelicals, who called this not “an immigration story” and said, “It’s a church story. So even people who are not sure about what to think about immigration questions writ large, this is something they should be able to get behind.”

Religious workers fall under the EB-4 (employment-based, fourth preference) pool. Immigrants apply for green cards, typically through either employment or family connections, on their path to becoming permanent US residents and then eventually citizens. Congress limits the number of green cards annually and the government sorts applicants into different categories. Some categories have much larger backlogs than others.

Religious workers typically work in the United States with sponsorship by congregations or ministries. Until recently, the five-year visa gave religious workers enough time to obtain green cards under the EB-4 category.

The State Department and immigration authorities determine when people can apply for green cards based on assigned priority dates. Each month, that list is updated, and religious workers can check to see if their priority dates are listed.

In March 2023, though, the Biden administration shifted its processing of tens of thousands of applications from Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador. It placed migrant children who fell under Special Immigrant Juvenile status or who had been neglected or abused into the same employment-based queue as religious workers. Overnight, the pool of applicants expanded dramatically.

Lance Conklin, an immigration lawyer who cochairs the religious workers’ group of the American Immigration Lawyers Association, said the move caused a backlog that will add up to a decade-long wait for religious workers. About 95 percent of Conklin’s clients are evangelicals in this situation.

He works with lots of smaller churches, many with only one senior pastor. Before, many of Conklin’s clients were essentially at the front of the line. Now, “I tell people at least ten years, and it could be longer,” Conklin said. “It’s been pretty devastating. [In a company], take away one of your star employees. What is that going to do to your business? It does the same thing to the church. It hurts.”

Backlogs can shift: The pool may shrink if applicants’ various circumstances force them to give up. Some find other ways to stay, such as through another employment status like H1-B visas, though those can be hard to obtain.

Meanwhile, churches deal with the fallout: “People get attached to their pastor,” Conklin said.

At Lantana Community Church, Callender wonders what he’ll do if Ponce has to self-deport next spring: Hire someone else? Fill the gaps as best he can for a year? Callender said his church followed what officials said in hiring Ponce, “doing everything correctly,” but now “not only are they disrupting his career, but they’re disrupting our church.”

Democratic senator Tim Kaine of Virginia told CT how current immigration policy was affecting his own church, St. Elizabeth Catholic Church in Richmond, along with many others across the United States: “We have had priests who were immigrants, and [we] often have visiting priests, some of whom are immigrants as well.” Republican senators Jim Risch of Idaho and Susan Collins of Maine are cosponsoring the bill. Both the Senate and House versions of the bill are still in committee.

Matthew Soerens of World Relief said that, unlike other immigration issues on the Hill, the bill is not particularly controversial: “Christian denominations and other religious institutions [are] bringing in ministers to meet a very clear need … and doing so in a lawful way, in a way through a program that Congress has set up. I have not found a lot of opposition to that anywhere.”

The bill has garnered bipartisan support, unusual in Washington, but it’s not getting much attention and may never get voted on. It’s not grabbed the spotlight in DC, but it’s crucially important for churches like Iglesia Presbiteriana Corpus Christi, a Spanish-speaking church in Waukesha, a Milwaukee suburb.

Mark Kaiser, chair of the Wisconsin Presbytery Missions Committee, hired a Mexican-born pastor, Luis Garcia, to plant Corpus Christi, but Garcia’s five years will be up next year. Unless the law changes, Garcia, his wife, and his son will have to leave. “If he leaves the country for a year, that church plant will die,” Kaiser said. “It won’t make it.”

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Kenya Battles Teen Pregnancy Crisis

Pius Sawa

How a Christian nurse stepped in to save a mother and her baby.

A 19 year old Kenyan mother is seen holding her 7 month old baby bump.

SOPA Images / Contributor / Getty

One evening, Naomi Cherotich, 17, headed home from her school on the slopes of Mount Elgon in Bungoma County, western Kenya. A man from her village gave her a ride on his motorcycle. Then he gave her sweets, bananas, sugarcane, and some money. Then he slept with her. Soon Naomi was pregnant.

Naomi’s mother, Milka Chepchor, cried when she learned her daughter was pregnant. “I am a single mother, and my hope was that [Naomi] will complete her education and join college or university so that she can change my life,” she said. “I gave birth to my daughter when I was 16. The boy who caused all [this] denied the baby and never gave me support. He married another girl. My father chased me away from home and I stayed with my grandmother. Now history is repeating itself.”

The motorcycle rider hid when he realized that Naomi was pregnant, fearing arrest for having sex with a student. Naomi ran away from home to stay with her grandmother to hide from friends and neighbors who might mock her as a “loose girl.”

She complained to her grandmother of stomach pain, asking her to fetch local herbs from the forest to treat “stomach snakes” (worms), not revealing she was pregnant. After drinking one cup of the brewed herbs, Naomi started bleeding heavily. Her grandmother ran to the local administrator for help. Two men carried Naomi on a wheelbarrow for several miles until they found a motorbike. On it, sandwiched between the driver in front of her and a helper behind, she made it to Kopsiro Health Center.

Teenage pregnancy in Kenya remains a serious public health issue; the government estimates 15 percent of women age 15–19 are or have been pregnant. Poverty, lack of education, and breakdowns in family environment are main contributors. Although the age of consent in Kenya is 18, and laws are supposed to protect students still in secondary school, some men still coax impoverished girls to exchange sexual favors for small gifts.

In November 2023, Ministry of Health officials reported that 54 girls out of roughly 250 from a single Mount Elgon school became pregnant over the course of the year. Bungoma County—along with Nairobi, Kakamega, and Narok counties—has the highest teen pregnancy rate in Kenya. One of Kenya’s national newspapers attributed high pregnancy rates to parental neglect, poverty, and cultural practices. Girls as young as 10 drop out of school due to pregnancy. Bungoma County is predominantly Christian.

Kenya (at 18%), along with Uganda and Tanzania (25%), have higher teenage pregnancy rates than the global average of 15%.

At Kopsiro Health Center, Naomi received help from nurse Hesborn Sambo, who for ten years has been on a mission to save teenage mothers. During his internship at Bungoma Referral Hospital, Sambo witnessed many deaths from pregnancy complications. “Many of these girls were from my home area on the slopes of Mount Elgon,” he said. “I started reaching out to these teenage mothers.”

At first, administrators didn’t support his outreach to local teens, Sambo said. “I had nobody to help me. I used my own salary to travel around schools and villages talking to the pregnant girls and parents.”

Many health workers in Kenya sign in at their clinics then sneak away to work side gigs, such as treating patients at home, working at a private clinic, or going to meetings that offer “sitting allowances” for attending. Sambo recalled, “My bosses thought I was one of these kinds of people and were reluctant to support me.”

After several years of struggle, Sambo received support from administrators: a motorcycle. He started training school administrators, local government officials, and community health promoters.

Now, he asks pregnant teens to visit health facilities for prenatal care then shows them why it’s important to check their nutrition and blood pressure, give birth at a health facility, and put their babies on vaccine schedules. He also teaches them how to identify any complications that would be risky to both the mother and the baby.

“I thank God to have given me the energy to make this a success. I feel happy to see these girls [willing] to come out and ask questions at the facility and some even encouraging others to come out.”

Sambo grew up in a Christian family. Years ago, he had asked God to place him in the best position to help poor families. “I am a born again Christian, and everything I do, I put God first.”

The toughest task for Sambo is counseling the traumatized girls and their depressed parents: “I receive calls from parents who feel they have been ashamed by their daughters. So I visit the family and talk to them not to chase away their daughters for getting pregnant. I also talk to girls who are tempted to commit suicide because the society and the family has rejected them.”

David Kirui Kondo, a community health promoter from Chepich rural village, said many of the teens come from poor families with single parents who can’t afford basic needs. “You find that many of them get pregnant in December during long school holidays and during funerals where the community comes together dancing to music all night,” he said.

Another community health promoter, Violet Chebet Kipkirech from Ruarus village in Kopsiro, noted the lack of parental care and health services in villages: “You find that many families live next to the forest where they earn a living from. A father or mother who spends the whole day in the forest has no time for the children. They don’t talk to them. These young children have nowhere to seek help when they are faced with sexual challenges.”

Sambo said, “We used to register over 100 deaths of young mothers dying from pregnancy related complications, but that has reduced drastically to around 40, with more health facilities across the mountain. Lives are being saved.” Nevertheless, he said many deaths of pregnant teens are never documented, because they don’t visit health facilities. Many die silently in their villages, trying to procure abortions or committing suicide. No one reports the incidents for fear of arrests.

On July 28, Naomi Cherotich gave birth to a baby boy. Sambo’s lifesaving care became a turning point for Naomi. Sambo counseled her against suicide and abortion, offering prenatal care. Now, while her mother watches the baby, Naomi hopes to catch up with her classmates at school then study to become a teacher: “I am now a happy person. I can’t wait to go back to school and complete my education.”

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News

Pakistan Seminary Leader Vindicated

Daniel Silliman

Police change the locks after a government commission reviews evidence brought by rival boards.

Majid Abel, foreground, reviews the new construction at Gujranwala Theological Seminary.

Gujranwala Theological Seminary

Pakistani authorities have settled a dispute between rival boards at a 148-year-old Protestant seminary, restoring the leadership of Presbyterian pastor Majid Abel.

A four-person commission of the Registrar of Joint Stock Companies found that the Gujranwala Theological Seminary board meeting that ousted Abel and made allegations of financial fraud was unconstitutional. Principal Nosheen Khan did not have the standing to call a special meeting, the commission said, and the board that met with her on January 2 had no legitimate authority.

Decisions made in that meeting—including the decision to eject Abel, the seminary board’s chair—were not legal, according to the government commission.

The board that met two days later on January 4 “to address growing concerns about the credibility of the institution” and fired Khan was the legitimate board, the commission found. That board’s decisions are binding.

“I have the right to call a meeting,” Abel told Christianity Today. “Nosheen is an employee and, being an employee, she has no power to call a board meeting.”

Gujranwala Theological Seminary, located about 100 kilometers north of Lahore, is one of the premier Protestant schools in Pakistan. Founded by American Presbyterians, the seminary maintains a close relationship with the Presbyterian Church of Pakistan, the second largest Protestant denomination in the country. It also serves the largest denomination—the Church of Pakistan—and trains evangelical ministers from other churches.

The seminary currently has about 90 students and has trained more than 12,000 ministers since 1877. Conflict at the school has the potential to divide Protestants across Pakistan. Earlier this year, police in Gujranwala warned provincial authorities that the quarrel could “breach the sectarian peace and harmony.”

The government commission met three times to review the evidence. Khan missed two of those meetings, according to government records. But officials looked at documents submitted by both parties, including the seminary’s constitution and the most recent registration paperwork

The commission ruled in Abel’s favor at the end of May. Khan told CT that she does not accept the decision.

“I am exposing [Abel] and will keep exposing him,” she said. “I have taken oath that I would fight till the last … and I will fight till the last breath.”

Khan said she has acted in accordance with the constitution but the commission “sold itself.” Government corruption is an ongoing issue in Pakistan. According to the World Justice Project’s Rule of Law Index, Pakistan has a serious problem with police officers and judges taking bribes. However, Khan has not offered any evidence of corruption.

Without additional evidence, the legal battle for control of the seminary appears to be over. The May ruling was decisive and was followed up with action. The chief of the city police and about 20 officers changed the seminary locks in June. They gave the new keys to Abel.

Abel told CT that he believes that settles it and the seminary is safe now.

“There is nothing left in litigation, expect a waste of time,” he said. “We have given Nosheen an opportunity for a graceful exit. … She agreed and went home but then changed her mind.”

The origins of the dispute between Khan and Abel are unclear. Abel recommended Khan for the role of principal back in 2015. Khan, the first woman ordained in a Presbyterian church in Pakistan, ran day-to-day operations of the seminary while Abel acted as chief fundraiser.

By 2024, however, the two seemed locked in irreconcilable differences. Three different mediation efforts—one led by a Presbyterian Church (USA) minister, one by a friendly city official, and one by a Christian leader in the Pakistani army—all failed.

Maqsood Kamil, a former professor at Gujranwala Theological Seminary who has had conflict with both Abel and Khan, said the controversy reflects larger problems with Presbyterianism in Pakistan.

“The Presbyterian Church in Pakistan is mired in power struggles,” Kamil told CT. “Some leaders remain in office for decades, while others are pushed out through conspiracies.”

Gujranwala Theological Seminary’s annual board meeting in March 2024 was very contentious. Administrators raised questions about Khan’s leadership, seminary officials say. Khan said she also raised questions about Abel’s leadership. The seminary’s accountant resigned, was fired, or both.

After the meeting, Khan brought in an outside firm to investigate possible financial misconduct in ongoing construction work, even though the board had signed off on an annual audit and asked no questions about the spending.

At the same time, the school did not submit meeting minutes and the other paperwork to the government and the seminary’s registration lapsed. Abel accused Khan of doing this deliberately as part of a scheme to “grab control of the institution,” according to an official complaint filed with the government commission. Khan said Abel realized she was uncovering fraud and became her “sworn enemy.”

New construction work stopped at the seminary that summer. The company doing the work—headed by Abel’s older brother, Ashraf—complained that Khan was delaying payments and making it impossible for him to keep laborers working.

Khan said she had concerns about the financial arrangement.

“Large sums of money had flown into the accounts of his two brothers and there were not receipts of it,” she told CT. “These are very clear things.”

Khan publicized the investigation of financial fraud at the end of the year. As CT and others reported, Abel was accused of sloppy recordkeeping and possible fraud. The financial firm that wrote the report, however, noted that its investigation was not done according to the best practices of the International Standards of Auditing. Investigators only had access to the information that Khan gave them, according to seminary officials.

The legitimate board does not believe there is any merit to the allegations of financial misconduct. Seminary officials say the construction spending appeared proper, and the work was done for a reasonable amount of money.

An internal review of financial records also showed that Abel didn’t handle payments—Khan did. She told CT it’s true that she signed off on construction spending.

“The accountant would bring the final financial report for me to sign, which I would sign,” she said. “Now I realize I made a serious mistake.”

Khan’s replacement at Gujranwala Theological Seminary told CT that the construction work is finished and everything looks good.

“The building is amazing,” said Jack Haberer, a minister in the mainline Presbyterian Church (USA). “[We have a] very large lecture hall, four large classrooms, and administrative offices. About 6,000 square feet. In round numbers, it would cost at least $600,000 in the US. It was built there for about $120,000 US.”

Haberer said the school is ready for a new semester and officials hope to turn a new page. Gujranwala Theological Seminary will start classes in September.

Additional reporting by Asif Angelo Aqeel.

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Inkwell

Make Christianity Beautiful Again?

Daniel Kim

Followers of Jesus must be people of good news rather than good taste.

"The Ruins of Holyrood Chapel" by Louis Daguerre

I am a slave to beauty.

My mother was an art historian, and my father was a literary junkie who had read the entire canon of Western and Eastern masterpieces by the time he was 20 years old. Some of my earliest childhood memories are of being carted around in a stroller across London, speeding through the Tate Modern, the Tate Britain, the National Gallery, and the National Portrait Gallery.

Almost every childhood holiday involved my sweaty child hands being pulled through the Louvre in Paris, the Uffizi in Florence, and almost every cathedral in continental Europe while Mum took notes. She would sit me down in front of the Impressionists and try to explain to her ungrateful boy the impact of linseed oil on paint.

Meanwhile, at night, my dad would put me to bed by telling stories out of Tolkien’s The Silmarillion. Until the age of 24, I was convinced that the great war fought under the Two Trees of Valinor that gave light to the world was a creation of my dad’s imagination, until I realized he was simply a wonderful plagiarist.

It was a privileged upbringing, and I am infinitely grateful for it; it has served me well throughout my life. But it produced in me the most awful of faculties: that thing we call “good taste.” Other people call it “pretentious,” and C. S. Lewis called it a “gluttony of the subtler kind.”

Truth be told, aesthetic value often means more to me than moral value. I find bad art more offensive to my soul than crime. Despite my best intentions, I find it hard to resist the impulse to roll my eyes at the mediocre and to critique the great and the good. And nowhere is my eye more critical than when it turns to Christian art—even from its very beginning.

Christ Walking on Water, AD 249, New Haven, Yale University Art Gallery. Wikimedia Commons. Edited by Inkwell.

This is one of the earliest Christian depictions of Jesus. Can you see him? Painted on faded Roman plaster around AD 240, the painting shows four disciples perched on a boat, raising their hands toward two people on the water. There’s Peter, decapitated by 1,800 years of history and erosion. And next to Peter, holding his hands, is a figure wearing a flowing toga, the seams vanishing into the seams of the water.

Does he have hair? It’s hard to tell, but he seems to have some pretty intense eyebrows. Behold the man—ecce homo—here is Jesus. The water-walking God-Man reaches his hand out to the terrified Peter and says over the storm, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid” (Matt. 14:27).

This little panel was discovered in the baptistry of a converted house church built into the walls of Dura-Europos, one of the most eastern cities of the Roman Empire. In a city that pulsated with the strength of Rome, crowded with temples to the gods of the world, a motley community of Greek, Syriac, and Latin speakers met to worship their God. And in the back of this house was a small, windowless room with a pool built into the wall—the baptistry.

The walls are painted in burnt umber tones that tell stories from the Bible, including our water-walking Jesus. If you were a new believer, you would have been led into this room with the whole community, oil lamps illuminating the drawings in the flicker of smoky candlelight. You would have gone down into the depths of the cool water, hearing the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As you blinked the water out of your eyes, you would lock eyes with your Savior—Take courage.

It’s a beautiful scene. But if I’m completely honest, if I take off my gold-tinted sentimental glasses and put on my well-trained, curated, beauty-intoxicated European eyes, it’s actually kind of a rubbish, pastiche drawing.

Jesus’ arms are disproportionate to his body, and anyone with a working knowledge of human anatomy can tell you that human legs are meant to be more than two sticks. It looks like the kind of thing a child would bring back after the obligatory Noah’s ark Sunday school session. Part of me wishes it were Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son greeting me on the wall instead.

Beauty is very much on the lips of today’s theological, philosophical, cultural, and social discourse. Modern man “doubts the truth, resists the good, but is fascinated by beauty,” wrote Cardinal Godfried Danneels. Christians from across the aisle have taken up the call: Make Christianity Beautiful Again. How many times have I seen and heard the Dostoevsky quote “Beauty will save the world” typed over pictures of Gothic cathedrals or Italian marbled paper?

It seems the agenda is set. We must appeal to beauty as our chief apologetic. Beauty is the call from God himself—drawing us upward and outward, propelling us beyond the closed realm of a physical universe and into the realm of splendor and delight, which ultimately calls us into the presence of the divine. And to this I say hallelujah, amen.

Yes to patronage of the arts. Yes to poetry nights over lectures. Yes to attending to the details of the human experience of Christian worship and prayer. But in all these things, let us not become aesthetes—addicts to the aesthetic. Let us not become Christians of good taste, idolaters of beauty.

Let us remember that beauty is also a terrifying and accursed thing. The most powerful gifts from God can become insidious and soul-destroying curses. One of the oldest myths in the Western world is about how powerful men went to war for the sake of beauty. When Napoleon ordered the invasion of Italy, he did so in part to take possession of the best paintings.

When we appeal to beauty, we are playing with serious firepower. “We don’t consume beauty like a commodity—beauty consumes us like a fire,” said French philosopher Jean-Louis Chrétien. Beauty is persuasive, seductive, violent, even! We don’t grasp it. It grasps us.

Beauty captivates us, which means that it also takes us captive. So powerful is its force that we can confuse an aesthetic experience with a mystical one. It is entirely possible to find what is evil and foolish to be beautiful. Satan himself comes as an angel of light and beauty.

Like everything under the sun, beauty needs redemption for it to be used for the good pleasure of God. And redemption is always shaped like the Redeemer: crucified, dead, and resurrected. The crucifixion of Jesus was supremely ugly—a disfigured, beaten, bent, tortured body, unjustly murdered. Yet by it, we are made beautiful in the sight of God.

If we are to have a Christian conception of beauty, it must be one that is crucified and resurrected. Jesus, who had “no beauty or majesty to attract us” (Isa. 53:2), gave us eyes and hearts to understand that beauty itself has been transfigured on the cross.

As St. Bonaventure wrote, “Who would look for beauty of form now in such a roughly-handled body? The most beloved Lord is stripped naked … who possessed neither beauty nor form … yet it was from this [ugliness] of our Saviour that the price paid for our beauty streamed forth.” And that’s why those paintings from Dura-Europos had such an impact on me—they condemned the man of good taste.

Christian art is beautiful insofar as it speaks of the truly beautiful one, the crucified one. As those early Christian believers went under the water of the baptismal font and rose to new life, face-to-face with an artistically disfigured Christ, they encountered the beauty of beauties.

The Dura-Europos Christ reminds me of another encounter I had with a water-walking Jesus. One thousand eight hundred years ago and five thousand miles away in Hong Kong, there is a mural of Christ walking on water.

It adorns the wall of a drug rehabilitation center run by one of the most faithful missionaries of the 20th century, Jackie Pullinger. Painted directly onto white concrete, Jesus walks across an acrylic sea. Behind him is not the dusty landscape of Galilee but the skyline of Hong Kong, and Peter is about to step out onto the water, reaching out toward Jesus.

The paintwork can’t compare with anything in the Louvre or the Uffizi, and the human proportions are slightly off. Yet this has been the Christ who has accompanied thousands of addicts, gang members, and prostitutes through deep darkness and into his beautiful light, and it is under the gaze of this Christ that they were baptized. It is this Christ who, every morning, hears the sweet sound of worship from their lips. When I was confronted with this painting, I sobbed at the beauty of it.

If we are to make Christianity beautiful again, we must keep this Christian experience of beauty at the very heart. Otherwise, all we’ll do is replace the idols of good arguments and reason with aesthetic craft and beauty. I, for one, am desperate to be a person of good news rather than good taste.

So can beauty save the world? Who knows. The jury is still out. But one thing we know for sure is that a saved world is beautiful. Lord, give us eyes to see.

Daniel Kim is the cofounder and head writer of ChristianStory, an animation project bringing to life the history and theology of Christianity. He is also the Anglican curate at St. Aldates church in Oxford.

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News

Court Rules California Church Members Can’t Sue

Daniel Silliman

An Orange County congregation’s bylaws permitted a controversial split from Vineyard USA.

Pastors Alan and Kathryn Scott respond to a lawsuit alleging fraud and deception.

Screengrab / Dwelling Place Anaheim

Key Updates

August 6, 2025

Court Rules California Church Members Can’t Sue
November 22, 2022

Lawsuit: Vineyard Anaheim Exit Was About Money, Not Holy Spirit

August 6, 2025

Dwelling Place has members. And it has members. Only the latter are allowed to sue the former Vineyard USA church for suddenly leaving the charismatic denomination, a California appeals court ruled last week.

The nine people who brought the case to court, alleging the church split was part of a $62 million fraud perpetrated by pastors Alan and Kathryn Scott, do not have legal standing, according to the ruling. The nine attended services, participated in the life of the congregation, and tithed, but they were not on the board of directors. And according to the church bylaws, people who are part of the congregation are only “associate members,” while those on the board are “voting members.”

“Dwelling Place’s bylaws … separate its members into two classes,” Justice Maurice Sanchez wrote. “Appellants contend they are members. But … they are not corporate members within the statutory boundaries.”

Beyond that, according to the unanimous decision, the bylaws give the senior pastor responsibility over “all ecclesiastical decisions,” and the move to take the church out of the Vineyard is protected by the First Amendment.

Carol Wimber-Wong, who started the Anaheim church and the Vineyard movement with her late first husband, John Wimber, did not live to see the court rule against her. She died in January at the age of 87.

A group representing the other eight plaintiffs, SaveVCFAnaheim, said in a statement on X that they are considering an appeal to the state Supreme Court.

“The mission has never been about courts,” the group said. “SaveVCFAnaheim will not stop until justice is served.”

Dwelling Place declined CT’s request for comment. The lawsuit was not mentioned in the Sunday service. Alan Scott preached on glorifying God and putting God’s glory on display.

“The price of faith is that sometimes God asks us to do things that others don’t really like,” he said. “The story of God keeps moving and advancing.”

November 22, 2022

The widow of a legendary Vineyard leader is suing the pastors of a Southern California church for fraud and the alleged misappropriation of $62 million.

Vineyard Anaheim, the “mother church” of the Vineyard movement since it was planted by John Wimber in 1977, left the charismatic denomination without much explanation in March. The current senior pastor, Alan Scott, told the church that the Holy Spirit just led them to split. There were no big disagreements with the national organization, no disputes about direction, and no personal conflicts.

“We don’t really understand why,” Scott said in a recording of a Sunday service obtained by CT. “I wish I really could sit before you today and say, ‘Here are the six reasons,’ ‘Here’s our issues,’ ‘Here are our grievances,’ or whatever. … We don’t always know what’s on the other side of obedience.”

But Carol Wimber-Wong, who cofounded the church with her late husband John Wimber and remained an “active and tithing member” until the church left the Vineyard, has a simpler explanation for what happened. There were not six reasons, she and eight other former members and leaders allege, but 62 million.

The former members claim Alan and Kathryn Scott knew they wanted to leave Vineyard USA but lied about it when applying for the leadership positions at the Anaheim church so they could take control of the $55 million mortgage-free building and $7 million in the bank.

“The Scott Defendants concealed their true intentions,” the lawsuit claims. “Defendant Scotts sought the position as Senior Pastors of Vineyard Anaheim with the deceitful motive of controlling tens of millions of dollars of assets and disassociating with Vineyard USA.”

The former members say that deceit has deprived them “of a church they have long called home” and “caused great emotional and spiritual distress.”

The lawsuit was filed in Orange County, California, Superior Court on November 10. Wimber-Wong is joined in the suit by church members Steve and Nancy Bray, Stephanie Ruppe, and David Edmondson; former pastor Lance Pittluck; and former board members Don Salladin, Joe Gillentine, and James Gillentine.

The pastor and board members all voted to hire the Scotts, who had previously led a Vineyard Church in Northern Ireland, in January 2018. They now regret the decision.

According to the suit, the Scotts weren’t originally interested in the position in Anaheim. After leaving the church in Northern Ireland and coming to the US in part so Kathryn Scott could pursue a career in worship music, they decided they were done with the Vineyard.

“It’s not an environment where we would want to plant our lives or raise our girls,” Alan Scott wrote in an email in May 2017, according to the suit. “We have arrived at the painful conclusion that we won’t be a part of a local Vineyard church in the next part of our journey.”

At about the same time, however, the Scotts casually asked Mike Safford, one of the ministers in the church, about the congregation’s assets. Safford reported that he thought it was just “shop talk,” but his wife was concerned about ulterior motives.

Nine months later, the Scotts did apply for the leadership positions at Vineyard Anaheim. According to the lawsuit, they told Safford, now leading a Vineyard fellowship in Tehachapi, California, that they had changed their minds about the denomination. Even if they still sometimes disagreed with the national leadership, they would “never take Vineyard Anaheim out of the Vineyard movement,” they said. They promised they would “honor the history and Carol Wimber.”

The hiring committee didn’t know the Scotts had said they were leaving the Vineyard but did ask several times about their commitment to the denomination, according to the lawsuit. During the interview process, one person asked about the influence of other theology on Alan Scott’s writing and teaching. He responded he was “Vineyard through and through.”

Another person asked about the couple’s association with other charismatic ministries, including Bethel, an independent megachurch in Redding, California. She recalls receiving the same answer: “Vineyard through and through.”

Joe Gillentine, who chaired the hiring committee, claims the Scotts were specifically asked whether they would separate from the denomination. They said that “leaving the Vineyard was never even a question.”

The answer seemed more ambiguous in retrospect.

The lawsuit claims the Scotts knew they were going to leave the Vineyard and “planned and maneuvered for several years,” before making their move.

“They had no intention of applying for the vacant senior pastor position[s] until learning of the Anaheim Vineyard’s substantial assets,” the lawsuit says. “They misled the Anaheim Vineyard Search Committee and board of directors.”

The Scotts have not yet responded to the legal filing but made a public statement in the Anaheim church, now called the Dwelling Place. They also posted a “family update” online.

“We understand that our disassociation from VUSA has caused strong emotions, but we didn’t expect individuals to attribute evil intent in the hearts of Alan and Kathryn Scott,” a written statement says. “The accusations in the complaint couldn’t be further from the truth.”

The Scotts say they hoped to deal with the disagreement “honorably, relationally, and biblically,” and “avoid a public airing of ecclesiastical issues.”

Whether or not the dispute is an ecclesiastical issue is one of the first things the California court will have to decide. According to the 1871 Watson v. Jones Supreme Court ruling, judges cannot weigh in on “a matter which concerns theological controversy, church discipline, ecclesiastical government, or the conformity of the members of the church to the standards of morals required of them.” This is known as the ecclesiastical abstention doctrine or sometimes the church autonomy doctrine.

The former church members told the California court they believe it does have jurisdiction. “This civil action arises from a secular and nonecclesiastical dispute,” the lawsuit says, involving “the business operations” of the church.

Outside the court, the Anaheim church’s departure from Vineyard has prompted debates among charismatic Christians about accountability, spiritual discernment, and the pastor’s authority. Some Vineyard pastors are moving away from the model of decisive leaders, emphasizing instead the importance of collaboration and consensus. Not everyone likes these and other changes.

“The elephant in the room that nobody has wanted to talk about for years is that … the Vineyard movement has walked away from its original core values and mandate,” wrote Duke Taber, a pastor who left the Vineyard after 10 years and started a church in Nevada with Global Awakening.

Taber said to him it seems like Scotts are returning to the Spirit-led independence that Wimber himself preached and modeled.

“It looks like they have returned to Vineyard values and practice,” he said. “John Wimber talked about the need for the pastor to be autonomous and not board ruled and that a church should not be board controlled.”

The Vineyard denomination, for its part, does not make any legal claim to the Anaheim building or bank account. Vineyard USA is not part of the lawsuit and said in a statement that its only involvement has been to offer pastoral care.

After the Scotts announced the church would be leaving Vineyard to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit, a representative of the denomination’s board of trustees begged them to reconsider. He said their account of God’s guidance was “spiritually implausible” and did not meet the biblical standards for discernment.

Other national leaders criticized the move as well.

“God does speak today!” Rich Nathan, pastor emeritus of Vineyard Columbus, the largest congregation in the movement, wrote on social media. “But whenever a so-called ‘leading’ is obviously self-seeking, fundamentally dishonest, lacking in accountable discernment, demonstrably hurts others and especially when money or power is involved, you can rest assured that it is NOT God who is leading!”

According to Carol Wimber-Wong and the other former members of the church, though, the lawsuit isn’t about ecclesiastical issues and questions of proper spiritual discernment. It’s about fraud, $62 million, negligent misrepresentation in the hiring process, and breach of fiduciary duty.

The first hearing is scheduled for April 28.

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Theology

Will TikTok Save Democracy—or Destroy It?

Russell Moore

Columnist

The latest cultural shift to a highly visual, quick attention platform is discipling us in ways we need to question.

Illustration by Christianity Today / Source Images: Getty

This piece was adapted from Russell Moore’s newsletter. Subscribe he re.

A few years ago, I started hearing more and more people saying, “Twitter is becoming real life.”

What they meant is that the toxic arguments on the social media app were defining a whole era—shaping and forming the way we communicate with each other in everything from school board meetings to presidential Rose Garden briefings to church business discussions.

What if, however, the Twitter era is closing and the next era of American life will be defined by TikTok? Will that be good news or bad?

That question has lodged in my thinking for several weeks now, after I was surprised to hear the case for some good news about the future of American democracy. I was even more surprised to hear the basis for that projection: TikTok.

On a recent episode of The Ezra Klein Show, the New York Times journalist joined up with television commentator Chris Hayes to talk about the victory from earlier this summer of socialist Zohran Mamdani over former governor Andrew Cuomo in the Democratic primary for New York City mayor. The part of the conversation that intrigued me was when the two started making fun of Cuomo’s attempts at TikTok skills.

In fact, the two went far afield of Cuomo and discussed the cringe factor of elected officials and candidates awkwardly trying to do TikTok dances, proving with every attempt just how alien they are to this mode of communication.

What if, Klein and Hayes speculated, the most important thing to notice sociologically about Mamdani’s win is not his socialist economics or his anti-Israel foreign policy but instead the way he won: by seeming to be the first major candidate who seems natively comfortable with communicating through TikTok videos and Instagram reels?

“I don’t want to over–Marshall McLuhan everything and say the medium is always the message, and everybody is shaped by their mediums,” Klein said, “because obviously there are a lot of people on TikTok or in vertical video who are not like Zohran Mamdani or don’t even follow what I’m talking about.”

Still, Klein said, we ought to pay attention to how the evolutions of social media platforms have affected the velocity of “vibe shifts” in American political life. To make his point, Klein pointed out that Barack Obama is bad at Twitter. That is not to say that Obama is inept at communicating through digital technologies. He was—after unsuccessful candidate Howard Dean—perhaps the first to really put those media to work at mobilizing and maintaining a constituency. But Obama is not a creature of Twitter. Klein argued,

But with the rise of the populist right, and to a lesser extent, populist left politics all across the world, all at the same time in this punctuated period, starting in the late 2000s or early 2010s, I believe the single strongest force there was not just immigration, and it wasn’t economics, as you can really see in the data. I think it was the rise of central communications platforms of politics being high-conflict, high-engagement, compressed-text platforms.

“These platforms, they’re about groups,” he said. “They’re about engagement within and then against other groups. They’re about drawing these lines very, very carefully. They create, by nature, a more populist form of politics. Or at least they create a communicative structure of politics where it is easier for outsider populist politicians to thrive.”

One needn’t buy into all of Klein’s argument to see the contours of what he’s describing, even within the church.

To be an excellent preacher or a successful evangelist is a wholly different skill set from gaining “influence” by attracting followers on Twitter, now X, which cannot traffic in deliberation or depth but only in the shock tactics of trolling—finding ever more extreme positions, communicated in ways designed to cause anger or fear. In those cases, one’s “enemies” are just as useful as one’s “friends” in amplifying one’s influence.

That technological era, Klein argues, is coming to a close, ending like the “hope and change will bring us all together” vibe of the emerging Facebook era of the mid-2000s.

“The thing coming after it—when you look at TikTok, when you look at Instagram reels: It’s not that no content is high-conflict political content, but most of it is much more day-in-the-life stuff,” he said. “It’s very highly visual.”

What Klein is noticing in some of the new breed of younger political leaders is that their grammar is not Twitter grammar but TikTok grammar. Hayes conceded, “Yes. Fun, kind of goofy.”

Forget for a moment whether it was good or bad, real or fake. Ask what these politicians are trying to portray—walking up to people on the street and listening to them.

If this becomes the dominant ethos of American politics, would that shape culture? Probably. Would it be something other than curating Twitter rage? Possibly. With less combat coming in the cultural ecosystem and more visual performance, does that mean, necessarily, that it’s good for democracy? No.

Philosopher Antón Barba-Kay, writing in Hedgehog Review, identifies some of the same shifts as Klein, calling this new political environment a “TikTokracy.” In such a culture, democracy is no longer rooted in civic education or rational argument but in who can win the algorithmic war for attention—an extension of the Twitter culture, not a turnaround from it.

For Barba-Kay, this is not just a problem of politics. The loss of the ability to follow sustained arguments—and to persuade with them—cuts at the very thing that makes a democratic republic possible. And that’s before we even start to ask what small group of tech entrepreneurs and international powers, corporations and governments, are controlling the algorithms that seize our attention.

The first step to helping people learn to give attention is to treat them as people who can give attention. Politicians might need to learn how to colonize vertical video, but that’s because politicians are responding to the last cultural shift, to people who were shaped by whatever came immediately before.

The church, though, has a responsibility to shape people for the future—their future and the future of those in their area of influence.

In that sense, the call for the church is not so much to figure out how to speak the grammar of TikTok or of whatever follows it. It’s to realize that our cultural grammars are shaping us, forming us, discipling us, right down to the questions we ask.

We don’t simply need answers for questioning seekers—although we need that. We need forms of mentoring, modeling, and internal culture that are counter-algorithms. We need “Thus saith the Lord,” and we also need what Jesus taught us: “Take heed how you hear” (Luke 8:18, ESV).

Lots of things Jesus said to us are countercultural. One of the hardest, for the years ahead, might be words that some of us skipped right over: “Pay attention.”

Russell Moore is the editor in chief at Christianity Today and leads its Public Theology Project.

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