The Dangers of Jon Brisby and the Church of God, The Eternal: Because Nothing Says “God’s True Remnant” Like Fleecing the Flock

It is another sunny day in COG Lalaland with another “Philadelphia-era remnant” led by Jon W. Brisby and his Church of God, the Eternal (COGE). This little Armstrongist splinter promises to guard the sacred flame of Herbert W. Armstrong’s teachings while conveniently extracting maximum cash and obedience from its members. How noble. How typical.

Brisby's COGE is Armstrongism on steroids. Regular Armstrongism is for amateurs like Bob Thiel. 

COGE doesn’t just follow the old Worldwide Church of God doctrines—it clutches them like a security blanket soaked in British-Israelism and apocalyptic dread. Brisby positions himself as the grand protector of “restored truths,” meaning if you question anything, you’re not just disagreeing with a guy in Oregon—you’re rebelling against God Himself. How convenient for the guy at the top. How utterly typical of Armstrongism.

Members are told that when Brisby (or his ministers) picks a Feast site or meeting location, God Himself rubber-stamps it from heaven. Miss it? Well, bless your rebellious little heart, you’re probably outside God’s will. Nothing says spiritual freedom like mandatory attendance at designated locations.

Like any old covenant Church of God, tithing is commanded. Tithe to Jon with a joyful smile or receive a divine smite. Your Choice, Peasant

Here’s the real masterpiece: the classic triple-tithe system. That’s 10% first tithe straight to headquarters, another 10% second tithe for travel to the approved holy-day sites, and roughly 3.33% third tithe for the “widows and orphans” (which somehow always seems to need more funding).

Add it up, and you’re looking at 21.4% of gross income—before taxes, rent, or that pesky grocery bill, every payday, every year. Brisby’s sermons reportedly hammer home that skimping on this holy obligation brings curses, while faithful tithing grants invisible divine protection. How generous. Especially when he tells struggling members in places like Kenya to keep the money flowing upward instead of, you know, feeding their kids or helping local causes.

Pro tip from ex-members: some spouses have allegedly been coached on how to hide tithing records from “unconverted” partners. Nothing builds a strong marriage like secret financial loyalty to a church in Eugene, Oregon.

While members struggle to survive, Jon lives an elitist lifestyle. Do as I say, not as I… drive. Flashy cars for Jon, used cars for lowly members.

While the average member is scraping by, skipping vacations, and wondering how to afford gas to the next mandatory Feast site, Brisby and leadership apparently aren’t exactly living the “humble servant” aesthetic. Former insiders have pointed out flashy cars, comfortable homes, and an overall lifestyle that seems strangely insulated from the financial sacrifices demanded of the flock.

But don’t worry—he left his cushy corporate job to serve full-time! How sacrificial. Of course, someone has to “collect God’s tithes” and “manage the organized Work,” right? Wouldn’t want all that money just sitting uselessly in members’ bank accounts or going to people like Gerald Flurry or Bob Thiel.

Bonus Red Flags, Because Why Stop at Money?

• Sermons that put the marital blame squarely on wives while reminding women they don’t really own anything anyway. 

• Quick shutdown of any pesky questions or doubts—can’t have the sheep thinking for themselves.

• The classic Armstrongist guilt special: your financial struggles? Clearly, you’re not pleasing God enough. Try tithing harder, champ.

COGE may be small, but it’s expertly engineered to make leaving feel like spiritual suicide. Your friends, family (inside the group), and eternal destiny are all neatly tied to continued loyalty and checks written to the right address.

If you’re sniffing around Jon Brisby’s outfit, maybe pump the brakes before you sign your paycheck over to “God’s Work.” What’s sold as the one true church preserving pure Armstrongism often turns out to be a high-demand, high-extraction machine that enriches the leadership while the members tighten their belts and hope the curses don’t hit too hard.

Do your homework, talk to ex-members, and remember: any group that needs 21+% of your income plus total obedience to stay “protected” might just be more interested in your wallet than your soul. Shocking, I know. But this is Armstrongism, after all.