The Philadelphia Church of God Sails Rapidly Towards the Iceberg

Over the last few years, delightful little leaks have been bubbling up from the Philadelphia Church of God revealing that things are not quite as spectacularly rosy as they endlessly brag in their slick propaganda rags. Income is circling the drain, members are bolting for the exits in droves, and even the die-hards are starting to notice that their precious tithes are being gleefully squandered on extravagances that have less to do with the gospel than Bob Thiel's African witch doctors do.

But fear not, loyal sheep! Despite the bleeding membership and tanking finances, the Flurry clan has heroically buried their heads in the sand and proclaimed their little fiefdom the Greatest Church of God Since the Apostles™. They’re still white-knuckling that luxury Gulfstream so King Gerald, the entire royal Flurry bloodline, and especially their precious Celtic-dancing offspring never have to suffer the indignity of flying seated next to filthy, unconverted rabble on commercial cattle cars. Millions upon millions evaporate into those touring Celtic dance spectaculars—because obviously nothing screams “urgent end-time gospel to a dying world” like prancing around in ghillies and hard shoes while the collection plates run dry.

Hundreds of thousands were blown digging up some random dirty rock from Oregon, trucking it to Edmond like a holy relic, and enshrining it as the very stone Herbert Armstrong supposedly knelt at to pray. They slapped a fancy throne around it and declared it the official coronation seat for Jesus Christ Himself. Peak biblical scholarship. Millions more have vanished into that bottomless British estate money pit they can’t sell, while cash continues to be shoveled into a Jerusalem office so King Flurry and Lil’ Stevie can LARP as the Two Witless Witnesses the moment the world ends.

This is peak Armstrongism 2026: a “church” that looks less like followers of Christ and more like a drunkard’s fever dream — the same Gerald Flurry once arrested for public intoxication and attempting to bribe a cop. Classy.

And right on schedule, here’s today’s gem from the Exit and Support Network (April 28, 2026):

Those feast numbers are highly exaggerated [see April 20 letter] to make the PCG look bigger than what it really is to their members. They do that with funds too. Lie. Many congregations have had to combine over the years because of people leaving—teens, people disenfranchised, disfellowshipped, deaths. There are only a few US sites for the feast. There is no work in Latin America anymore. Edstone is still for sale. (They will never get what they are asking for it.) There is no work there either, thus having the feast in the Netherlands for the minuscule amount of members there, or for those who can afford to travel, I’m assuming. I would personally guess that if there were about 2000-2500 members left, including children and teens, it would be a really good guess. I also don’t understand why they won’t sell their plane and tighten their budgets as an example, but call for a fast (God would NEVER answer that fast) and beg, gaslight and harangue the members for money to pursue that frivolous dig. How would they dig there if a war is going on? How does a Celtic culture that permeates that PCG cult have to do with Jerusalem? Weren’t they the first tribes to go into paganism? Maybe it’s just about the money; they don’t want to sell the plane with its huge expenses…That’s probably why they borrowed money. What work are they doing with that plane, other than flying around like they are royalty? Celtic Throne? Psalter? No one is watching except the dutiful members who are programmed, because the rest of the world is not watching, and they don’t care. Sad that the members are being put to work like chattel and are exploited like that. The PCG is like the Titanic: it was huge, no one could bring it down! Not even God will sink PCG because Flurry ‘has a message to give to Christ when He returns’ at the cost of members. Well, it’s about to hit the iceberg and go down with its elites on lifeboats, while the others are sadly left to drown. God is not mocked. And we are seeing this unfold. –S. S. 

Let’s be brutally clear: the Philadelphia Church of God is not a Christian church. It is a personality cult built on fraud, fear, and Flurry family ego — wearing Christian terminology like a cheap Halloween costume.

• It exalts a man (Gerald “That Prophet” Flurry) above Christ and treats his family like royalty while calling members “chattel.”

• It preaches a false gospel of British-Israelism, legalistic tithing, and exclusive salvation through the PCG — the exact “another gospel” Paul cursed in Galatians 1:8-9.

• It fleeces the flock with endless cash demands for private jets, Celtic dance troupes, magic rocks on thrones, failing British mansions, and Jerusalem real estate — all while the “work” collapses. This is textbook false teacher behavior condemned throughout the New Testament (2 Peter 2, Jude, 1 Timothy 6:5).

The fruit is undeniable: broken families, financial ruin, mass exits, exaggerated numbers, and a leadership that responds to crisis with more begging and gaslighting. Jesus said you’ll know them by their fruit. This tree is dead and rotten.

The Titanic analogy isn’t clever — it’s prophetic. The PCG is sinking fast, but the “elite” lifeboats are already reserved: “Flurry Family Members ONLY,” “Elite HQ Members ONLY,” and “Celtic Dancers ONLY.” Everyone else is told to keep tithing, rearrange the deck chairs, and trust “God’s government.”

God is not mocked. The hull is breached. The icy water is rising. And no amount of royal dancing or rock-throne idolatry will stop this cult from joining every other failed Armstrong splinter at the bottom of the sea — right where deceptive, money-loving, Christ-denying groups belong.

If you’re still in the PCG, the lifeboats aren’t for you. Time to swim.

The Sheep Shearer Who Tried to Burn the Apocalypse Forward: The Dangerous Allure of “Helping” God End the World

The Sheep Shearer Who Tried to Burn the Apocalypse Forward: The Armstrongist and His 1969 Arson Plot 

and the Dangerous Allure of “Helping” God End the World

In the early hours of August 21, 1969, a 28-year-old Australian sheep shearer named Denis Michael Rohan slipped into Jerusalem’s Al-Aqsa Mosque, doused the ancient wooden minbar (pulpit) with kerosene, and set it ablaze. Flames licked centuries-old woodwork while the Muslim world erupted in fury. Riots, diplomatic crises, and calls for holy war followed. Israel faced its most serious international backlash since the Six-Day War just two years earlier. And the man at the center of it all? Not a hardened terrorist or political operative, but a quiet subscriber to The Plain Truth magazine—Herbert W. Armstrong’s flagship publication from the Worldwide Church of God (WCG).

Rohan wasn’t some random lunatic acting in a vacuum. He was a card-carrying (or at least magazine-subscribing) member of Armstrong’s rapidly growing radio-and-mail-order empire. He had moved to Israel only months earlier as a kibbutz volunteer, drawn by the very prophetic fever Armstrong stoked in every issue. After reading a June 1967 editorial in The Plain Truth—the one excitedly linking Israel’s recapture of Jerusalem to end-times prophecy—Rohan became convinced he was “the Lord’s emissary.” He told investigators he acted on “divine instructions” from the Book of Zechariah: clear the Temple Mount so the Jews could rebuild their Temple, kick-start the Tribulation, and fast-track Jesus’ return. Never mind that he mixed up which Muslim shrine sat on which exact spot of the ancient Temple foundations. Details, right? When you’re starring in your own personal Book of Revelation, geography is negotiable.

The Israeli court eventually ruled Rohan not criminally responsible, diagnosing paranoid schizophrenia. He had a prior history of mental illness back in Australia, and psychiatrists noted his delusions blended religion with grandiosity. But here’s the uncomfortable part that polite discernment ministries sometimes gloss over: Rohan’s madness didn’t arise in a theological vacuum. It found fertile soil in Armstrongism’s unique cocktail of British-Israelism, mandatory Old Testament feast-keeping, and hyper-imminent apocalypticism. Armstrong taught that he was essentially the end-time Elijah, that the Anglo-Saxon nations were the lost tribes of Israel, and that world events were racing toward a final showdown centered on Jerusalem. For vulnerable followers—especially those already craving significance—such teaching can easily morph from “watch and pray” into “act or be left behind.”

This is the dirty little secret of many aberrant cults: their eschatology turns prophecy into a participation sport. Mainstream Christianity has always emphasized God’s sovereign timing—“It is not for you to know the times or the dates, which the Father has set by his own authority” (Acts 1:7). Jesus rebuked disciples who wanted to call down fire on a Samaritan village (Luke 9:54-55). Patience, trust, and gospel proclamation are the orders of the day. But in groups like the WCG, the message often feels more like a divine to-do list with urgent deadlines. The Temple must be rebuilt. The “elect” must prepare. World events are your cue to get involved—because if you don’t, maybe you’re not really part of the inner circle God is using.

Rohan was hardly the only WCG-adjacent figure to feel that pressure. Armstrong’s teachings created a subculture where ordinary people could imagine themselves as bit players in the grand prophetic drama. When your leader claims exclusive apostolic authority, when your “church” operates by mail and radio with no local accountability, and when every headline is spun as another tick on the doomsday clock, it’s tragically easy for unstable individuals to conclude that doing something dramatic is faithfulness, not fanaticism. History is littered with similar cases—cult-inspired violence from Heaven’s Gate suicides to Branch Davidian standoffs—where end-times urgency plus isolation plus a charismatic teacher equals someone deciding God needs a little help lighting the fuse.

Critics of Armstrongism have long pointed out how its rejection of orthodox Trinitarian doctrine, its “God family” ladder-climbing salvation scheme, and its works-heavy “qualifying” for the Kingdom already distort the biblical gospel into something more like a cosmic performance review. Add to that a prophetic timeline that treats the Bible like a treasure map with X marking the Temple Mount, and you get the perfect recipe for what we saw in 1969: a sheep shearer with a can of kerosene and a head full of Plain Truth editorials, convinced he was accelerating the Second Coming by torching a mosque.

Rohan survived the episode, was hospitalized, deported, and lived quietly until his death in 2013. The minbar was eventually restored. But the incident remains a stark warning. Aberrant cults don’t just peddle bad doctrine—they weaponize hope. They take sincere believers anxious about the world’s brokenness and redirect that anxiety toward frantic human effort instead of quiet trust in a sovereign God who needs no arsonists on His payroll.

The lesson hasn’t expired. In an age still awash with prophecy conferences, end-times bestsellers, and online prophets declaring every geopolitical tremor as “the sign,” we do well to remember Rohan. Biblical prophecy calls us to vigilance, not vigilantism. It summons us to preach the gospel, not play dress-up as minor characters in Zechariah. The real danger isn’t that the end times might arrive too slowly. The real danger is when desperate souls decide God’s timetable needs a little earthly assistance—and reach for the matches.

The tragedy of Denis Michael Rohan is not an isolated footnote from 1969. It is a living parable, a cautionary flare still burning in the night sky of modern Armstrongism and Christianity. Here was an ordinary man—a sheep shearer, a magazine subscriber, a soul hungry for meaning—whose mind was set ablaze by the very doctrines that Herbert W. Armstrong packaged so persuasively. A “God family” theology that quietly whispers you can climb the divine ladder. A prophetic timeline that treats Scripture like a treasure map with your name on it. An eschatology that turns passive watching into frantic participation. When these ideas take root in unstable soil, the harvest is kerosene on ancient wood and a mosque in flames. The fire was real. The delusion was cultivated.

This is the insidious genius of cultic teachings, whether they fly the flag of Armstrongism, its many splinter groups, or any of the other high-control movements that peddle a “restored” gospel. They do not announce themselves with horns and fangs. They arrive in the respectable wrapper of “deeper truth,” “lost doctrines,” or “end-time urgency.” They promise certainty in chaotic times, significance to the insignificant, and a starring role in the drama of the ages. But the price tag is always the same: the historic Christian faith must be quietly dismantled first.

At the heart of Armstrongist doctrine lies a fatal inversion. The Triune God of Scripture—eternal, self-existent, three Persons in one essence—is replaced by a “family of gods” in which humans can eventually join the board of directors. The finished work of Christ is swapped for a lifetime of commandment-keeping to “qualify” for the Kingdom. The bodily resurrection is spiritualized into an immaterial upgrade, robbing believers of the very hope Job clung to: “yet in my flesh shall I see God.” And the sovereign timing of the Lord is exchanged for a doomsday clock that believers are subtly pressured to help wind. The result is a religion that looks Christian on the surface but functions like spiritual quicksand: the more you struggle to prove your worth, the deeper you sink, until even arson can feel like obedience.

The dangers are not merely theoretical.

First, they erode assurance. When salvation becomes a performance review rather than a gift of grace, no one can ever be certain they have done enough. Peace is replaced by perpetual anxiety. The cross is no longer sufficient; it is merely the starting line for a race whose finish line keeps moving.

Second, they breed isolation and elitism. Armstrong’s system taught that only “the Philadelphia era” (his group) understood the “plain truth.” Everyone else was either Laodicean, pagan, or part of the great falling away. This creates echo chambers where outside voices—especially those raising biblical concerns—are dismissed as “persecutors” or “Pharisees.” Discernment dies in such soil.

Third, they weaponize prophecy. By turning the Bible into a coded instruction manual for the last days, these teachings transform ordinary believers into potential loose cannons. Rohan was not the first and will not be the last. History is littered with cult-driven end-times actors who concluded that God needed earthly help—matches, rifles, poison, or political sabotage. When “the signs” become your personal mission briefing, patience is rebranded as unbelief and waiting on the Lord is seen as cowardice.

Fourth, they compromise the Church’s witness. Every time Christians yoke themselves with Armstrong-adjacent teachers for the sake of cultural or political “victory,” the gospel itself is diluted. The world watches and sees not a people who trust a sovereign Savior, but a desperate coalition willing to overlook heresy for the sake of winning the next news cycle. Pragmatism always eats principle for breakfast.

The same patterns repeat across other aberrant movements—whether they deny the deity of Christ, promote new apostles, twist prosperity into a guarantee, or sell secret knowledge about the end times. The packaging changes. The poison remains identical: a diminished Christ, an inflated self, a frantic timeline, and a works-based ladder to heaven.

Yet the antidote has never changed.

It is the same gospel Paul defended with his life: Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, He was buried, He rose again the third day according to the Scriptures—and He did it all so that sinners could be declared righteous by grace through faith, not by qualifying through commandment-keeping or temple-building heroics. The true Church does not need to accelerate the end times; she is called to endure faithfully until the end times come in God’s perfect timing. Our citizenship remains in heaven. Our weapon remains the sword of the Spirit. Our hope remains anchored in the finished work of the One who needs no human arsonists, no self-appointed Elijahs, and no “God family” recruits to accomplish His purposes.

Let the ashes of the 1969 Al-Aqsa fire serve as a permanent warning. May every believer who encounters the slick magazines, the charismatic radio voices, the urgent prophecy updates, or the “deeper revelations” pause and ask the simple question the Bereans asked: Does this square with Scripture? If the answer is no—if the Trinity is optional, if humans are future gods, if the gospel has been upgraded with qualifiers—then run. Do not walk. The stakes are not merely doctrinal; they are eternal. Lives, sanity, and souls hang in the balance.

In an age of spiritual confusion, the most radical act remains the simplest: cling to the historic faith once for all delivered to the saints. Anything less is not progress. It is regression into the very darkness from which Christ came to deliver us. And no amount of kerosene, no matter how sincerely applied, can ever light the way home.

Silent Pilgrim

Child Abuse in Armstrongism: The Drown Family’s ‘Horror Story’ and a Broader Pattern in the Church

Child Abuse in Armstrongism: The Drown Family’s ‘Horror Story’ and a Broader Pattern
Nine children removed from parents raised in the Worldwide Church of God; couple sentenced to decades in prison for systematic beatings, medical neglect and isolation — part of a decades-long pattern of abuse in Armstrongist groups
A rural Oregon household that outwardly appeared tied to Jewish observance was, behind closed doors, a place of escalating physical torment and total isolation for nine children — a nightmare prosecutors called “something out of a horror story.” The parents, Graydon and Robyn Drown, were both raised in the Worldwide Church of God (WCG), the flagship organization of the religious movement known as Armstrongism. The church’s emphasis on strict elder oversight, biblical literalism, authoritarian family government, and corporal punishment shaped the environment in which they were reared and later raised their own family.
Central to Armstrongism’s doctrines on child discipline was the teaching that parents must use physical correction to “train up a child in the way he should go” (Proverbs 22:6) and enforce God’s government in the home. Garner Ted Armstrong — son of WCG founder Herbert W. Armstrong and a prominent evangelist who studied and taught at the church’s Ambassador College — laid out these principles in his widely distributed booklet The Plain Truth About Child Rearing. The publication stressed that punishment must always be administered “in love,” never in anger, and insisted there is “NEVER, under any circumstances, a time to beat a child. A child should NEVER, under any circumstances, be punished in anger! A child should NEVER be bruised, or injured!” Spankings were to be immediate upon disobedience, applied only to the buttocks with a rod or paddle, and “hard enough so that the child sincerely responds and is sorry for his or her misconduct,” while always being paired with positive teaching to build long-term obedience and self-control.
Church literature echoed these guidelines, warning against injury or striking the head or vital organs but directing parents to produce genuine submission. In practice, however, the heavy emphasis on breaking a child’s will through corporal punishment — rooted in a literal reading of “spare the rod and spoil the child” — fostered an authoritarian culture that, in extreme cases, crossed into documented abuse. The Drowns’ extreme discipline practices reflect a darker pattern within Armstrongism.
Over the decades, multiple individuals associated with the Worldwide Church of God and its splinter groups have been convicted of child physical and sexual abuse, often enabled by the insular, hierarchical structure that discouraged outside intervention.
Examples include Retha Skyles, a WCG member in Tacoma, Washington, who in 1987 was found to have confined her 8-year-old grandson in a coffin-like wooden box for nearly two years as punishment; church officials reportedly knew but did not report it. Former WCG minister Kevin Owen Dean, who served as a pastor, school principal, and director of church summer camps, was convicted in Georgia of aggravated child molestation and sexual battery against multiple victims, including relatives and campers; he received decades in prison after fleeing and being captured years later. In offshoots, Joseph D. Wagner, a member of the United Church of God (UCG) who later joined the Church of God, a Worldwide Association (COGWA), was sentenced to life in prison without parole for raping two girls ages 6 and 10, whom he groomed in a “torture chamber” bedroom. Former WCG pastor John Aubrey Pinkston, who founded his own Congregation of God group, was convicted at age 78 of molesting at least two young girls and sentenced to 20 years. Survivor James Swift later described severe physical and psychological torture in a WCG-affiliated “conversion camp” in Louisiana, where he was isolated without food in an attempt to exorcise a perceived “gay demon.”
Graydon Drown, 49, and Robyn Drown, 42, were sentenced in January 2009 to at least 20 years in prison — 29 years for Graydon and 20 years for Robyn — after a jury convicted them of abusing and neglecting their nine children. Seven of the children testified during a five-day trial that beatings began when they were very young and grew more severe as they aged. Weapons included spoons, paddles, 2-by-4 boards, metal pipes, plastic pipes, whips, and a heavy three-foot-long metal pipe. A fiberglass tent pole with a knotted elastic cord was also introduced as evidence.
Marion County prosecutor Sarah Morris described the children’s home life plainly: “something out of a horror story.” The family lived crammed into a 1,500-square-foot three-bedroom house in rural Turner, and at other times in a converted attic in Mill City or camping in an SUV and tents in the Santiam Canyon during winter. The children never attended school. They saw a doctor or dentist only when the boys were circumcised as infants. One boy’s uncorrected nearsightedness left his vision permanently damaged because, the son testified, his father insisted “God would cure his eyesight” and refused to allow glasses. Illnesses were treated with home remedies; one child with repeated strep throat infections was forced to drink hot pepper sauce and later required surgery for a chronic condition. Many of the children needed extensive dental work after entering foster care.
The children’s only regular contact with the outside world came when their father — who professed to be Jewish — took them to Temple Beth Sholom in South Salem. It was there that two older sons disclosed the abuse to Rabbi Avrohom Perlstein, who alerted authorities. “Something was off,” Perlstein testified. “They seemed so normal.” He later learned Graydon Drown had lied about being Jewish. During the trial Graydon wore a yarmulke; he was not wearing it at sentencing.
A 1991 psychiatric evaluation of Graydon Drown, conducted after the couple’s three oldest children were briefly removed from the home amid earlier abuse allegations, described him as “adamant that he would continue to discipline his children in accordance with a religious treatise, which called for punishment immediately upon disobedience to the point of pain, but not bruising.” The doctor found the prognosis “grim, with the potential for abuse and cruelty to the children.” That evaluation directly mirrored the language and principles promoted in Armstrongist child-rearing literature.
The Drowns’ own histories traced directly back to Armstrongism. Both were raised in families that attended the Worldwide Church of God in Alaska. Graydon later studied at Ambassador College, the church’s institution in Texas. While there, he wrote to Robyn claiming God had ordained her to be his wife, comparing their union to Rebecca and Isaac in the Bible. Robyn’s parents told the jury she repeatedly left her husband seeking shelter but ultimately returned under his control.
Graydon Drown preached his own doctrine to his children, at times declaring himself the Messiah. Beatings often depended on the parents’ moods. Robyn Drown testified that she was a battered woman dominated by her husband. She described an incident in Alaska in which Graydon choked a family goat to death with its leash, then insisted God could resurrect it. The family was forced to drag the dead animal inside and perform a macabre ritual, with Robyn ordered to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
Even everyday activities carried strange religious overtones. The children watched R-rated movies such as The Matrix and Next of Kin with their father while their mother made popcorn. They could not reliably name the days of the week, months of the year, or tell time. Despite the father’s professed Judaism, the children did not know the difference between a Torah and a Bible.
Foster parents reported the children’s profound educational and medical deficits. One wrote to the judge that the family’s home-schooling had stopped a year earlier when Graydon lost his driver’s license, and Robyn had to drive him to work.
On the Thursday after sentencing, Marion County Circuit Judge Thomas Hart ruled the nine children would remain in protective custody and would never return to their parents. “It’s not going to be a ‘return-to-parent’ where we are,” Hart said. The children were placed in six separate foster homes. The two youngest were ordered vaccinated; the older ones had already received court-ordered vaccinations in July. Permanent plans — adoption for some, permanent foster care or independent living for others — were to be developed, with a custody review scheduled for April.
Robyn Drown filed for divorce, which Graydon indicated he would contest. Her sister in Alaska expressed interest in helping the children, but prosecutors said the child-welfare agency would object.
Conclusion: The Dangers of Authoritarian Doctrines and Their Devastating Toll on Children
The Drown case, alongside the documented pattern of physical beatings, sexual molestation, medical neglect, and psychological torture in Armstrongism and its offshoots, exposes the profound dangers of authoritarian religious doctrines that place “God’s government” above all else. In Armstrongist theology, the church hierarchy mirrors divine order: ministers hold unchecked spiritual authority, parents enforce it rigidly in the home, and children are expected to submit without question or complaint. Questioning authority is framed as rebellion against God Himself. This closed system — reinforced by Garner Ted Armstrong’s child-rearing teachings and the literalist “rod of correction” emphasis — creates an environment where power is absolute, external accountability is demonized as “Satan’s world,” and reporting abuse is often equated with disloyalty or betrayal of the faith.
Children born or raised in such high-control groups suffer uniquely. Unlike adult converts, they have no prior frame of reference outside the group. They are frequently isolated from mainstream society, denied education and medical care, and subjected to escalating corporal punishment that begins as “loving discipline” but can spiral into weapons-grade brutality, as seen in the Drown household and cases like the coffin confinement or conversion-camp tortures. The effects are lifelong: physical scars and chronic health problems; profound educational deficits that leave survivors unable to navigate basic adult responsibilities; emotional trauma, including fear-based attachment issues, hypervigilance, shame, and difficulty forming healthy relationships; and psychological conditions such as religious trauma syndrome, depression, PTSD, and identity fragmentation. Many struggle with generational cycles of abuse, losing family connections upon leaving, and facing a world they were taught to fear and despise. The authoritarian model treats children not as individuals with rights but as vessels for doctrinal obedience, making them especially vulnerable when parents or ministers prioritize religious ideology over basic safety.
When the ministry stands by, minimizes, or actively ignores abuse — as occurred repeatedly in Armstrongist history when elders knew of reports but took no action — the response must be clear and external. Loyalty to the group or fear of “causing division” cannot supersede a child’s life and well-being. Concerned members, parents, or even the children themselves (once old enough) should immediately report suspicions to civil authorities: child protective services, law enforcement, or hotlines such as the National Child Abuse Hotline (1-800-4-A-CHILD in the U.S.). 
Internal church “investigations” or discipline processes are insufficient and often serve to protect the institution rather than the victim. Survivors and whistleblowers are urged to seek independent support networks of ex-Armstrongists, secular therapists experienced in cult recovery and religious trauma, legal advocates, and medical professionals. In many cases, quietly gathering evidence, securing safe housing, and ultimately leaving the group becomes essential for healing and breaking the cycle. No doctrine of obedience or family government justifies endangering children; civil laws exist precisely to protect the vulnerable when religious communities fail them.
Drown tragedy and the broader pattern in Armstrongism stand as a stark warning: when authoritarian beliefs supplant compassion, reason, and legal safeguards, children pay the price. As one foster parent wrote to the judge, addressing Graydon Drown directly: “If, as you claim, you hear a voice, I can promise you that it’s not the voice of God … If God ever even noticed your lowly existence at all, it could only have been a passing glance, while intervening to save your suffering children.” 
True protection begins when families and former members choose the safety of the child over the demands of any human institution claiming divine authority.
Silent Pilgrim