For years, the first thing visitors to the Anaheim Vineyard saw when they walked in the door of the building was a beautiful bronze sculpture of Jesus washing Peter’s feet that was the focal point of the foyer as you headed toward the sanctuary. Ever since Max Greiner Jr.’s “Divine Servant” was given to John and Carol Wimber, founders of the church, the children of the congregation have climbed on Jesus’ and Peter’s shoulders and lap until the metal shone bright. (I wrote about the statue a while ago, grieved by the realization that my younger children no longer remembered it.)
When Alan Scott disassociated the church from the Vineyard movement, many of the remaining longtime Vineyard Anaheim family members, including Carol Wimber Wong, and her sister and brother-in-law, Bob and Penny Fulton, found themselves without a spiritual home. Carol’s “Divine Servant” statue was left behind.
A while back, Carol mentioned that the statue had been a gift to John and herself personally, and she expressed a desire to have it returned to her. After several months of discussion with the leadership at Dwelling Place Anaheim (the name of Alan Scott’s church in the building that formerly housed Vineyard Anaheim), today Carol’s desire was fufilled.
Several Vineyard family members came to escort the statue to its new location, and while there were a few tears, overall it was a time of joyful celebration as we watched Carol, Penny, and Bob reunite with the beautiful representation of servant leadership.
I plan to take my children by soon to show them the statue’s new home and get an updated photo of my crew with this beloved piece of their spiritual heritage.
This morning, a group of Vineyard family members gathered together in front of our former church home, seeking to be a visual stir to the curiosity of those who who currently attend there on Sunday mornings. As cars pulled in to the parking lot, we saw a variety of responses: lots of smiles and waves, a few people shaking their heads, some refusing to look at us, and one who made a rude gesture.
I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through their minds as they looked at us. Do they realize that Carol Wimber Wong, who started the church with her husband John Wimber, was standing there on the sidewalk? That Bob and Penny Fulton, and several other founding members of the Anaheim Vineyard were a part of the smiling crowd gathered in front of the multi-million dollar building we had paid off with decades of tithes before Alan Scott decided it should no longer be a Vineyard? That former Board members and members of the search committee that selected him to be our pastor were out there, people he looked in the eye and told, “I’m Vineyard through and through,” before he intentionally drove out longtime members of the congregation in favor of creating a new “culture” and ultimately took the church out of the worldwide movement that had grown out of that very body?
Some of them do know. Through the windows of the cars that drove past, I recognized a few people I have known for years. I have a hard time understanding how they can stand by Alan (and Jeremy and Katie Riddle) after all that has been said and done, especially after hearing the recordings that Noah DeBolt shared last week revealing just some of what was said behind closed doors. But what about all the others? What about those who were drawn to what is now known Dwelling Place Anaheim without knowing any of the history of the Anaheim Vineyard? Do they know who those people with the signs are?
I hope they will be curious. I hope they will want to find out more about why we took the time to stand in front of “their” church on a hot Sunday morning. Vineyard Anaheim may not technically exist anymore, but those out there on the sidewalk are more than just Friends of Vineyard; we will always be family, and we will stand together, with or without a building to call our own.
“Over the past couple months, multiple individuals who are physically proximate to DPA have shared with me that Alan has made a concerted effort to “target” the AAPI community, and some have indicated that up to 35-40% of the congregation is comprised of AAPI brothers and sisters. As a Korean-American son of immigrants, I was deeply disturbed in my spirit when I heard this. We love people of all races and ethnicities equally, but it is also my belief that AAPI folk are particularly susceptible to abusive spiritual leadership given our culture’s high view of authority, specifically spiritual authority.” (quote from letter by John Kim to the SoCal AAPI community)
As I’ve shared about Alan Scott and things that have happened at Dwelling Place Anaheim, the church that has replaced the Anaheim Vineyard, I have tried to present facts with as little opinion as I can manage, but I found this letter of warning from John Kim so troubling, I struggled with whether or not to share it because I feel it has the potential to cause a lot of pain. However, I feel there is a risk of even more pain if these things remain in the dark, so I decided to go ahead and post it for those who could be affected.
Last night I made a delightful discovery! In searching through my cedar chest for something, I ran across an old family Bible I had inherited. When I first received it, I had peeked inside it hopefully, expecting to find some family records in the first few pages. Disappointed to only find an extremely faded inscription inside the front cover, I had wrapped it back up and placed it in the cedar chest, unsure of what to do with it but unwilling to part with it just because it didn’t have a treasure trove of genealogical information.
After careful examination and playing around with the digital image a bit, I think I was able to make out the faded inscription: Presented to Pollie Soash By George Soash in the Year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-six. Bought of Doctor Jones of Waverly. 1866 Waverly Iowa
I’ve been fascinated by family history since I was a young girl, and for the last several years, genealogy has been the hobby I get lost in more than any other. I’m thankful that the generation above me has started to pass on family treasures, knowing that I will cherish them. This leather-bound Bible had long ago broken into two pieces, and I really wasn’t sure it was worth holding onto since it didn’t seem to contain any records.
For some reason, however, when I saw it as I was digging through my chest last night, I was inspired to take a closer look. As I remembered, there were no family record pages in the front or back of the book. Yet something compelled me to keep searching, and to my delighted surprise, I discovered several pages between the Old and New Testaments that did indeed contain entries of a marriage (between the man who had given the Bible to his wife and written the inscription on the front page), the deaths of those two people, and three generations of births (the last generation listed on a slip of paper that had been attached with a straight pin for some reason).
After posting about my find in a genealogy group on social media, I heard from a couple other people who had made similar discoveries of records after the Old Testament in Bibles from the 1800s. Having been active in genealogical groups for several years, I’m surprised I had never heard about this possibility before, but I’m so thankful to have found these pages, and I wanted to spread the word so other people who had faced similar disappointment could check their own Family Bibles to see if they had missed record pages that were placed before the New Testament.
I didn’t learn anything new from these pages, but there is something special about seeing the handwriting of my 3rd great-grandparents and touching the pages where someone so lovingly recorded the births of those who came before me. I always think of them as elderly, but Pollie Ann Hiserodt, the original recipient of the Bible, was only 34 when she passed away, and her husband George Soash was only 50. Yet from their three children, they have many descendants, and now this tattered old book has become even more treasured as I consider the honor of being the one who gets to preserve it for future generations.
This morning as I was reading with two of my children, our subject led to a discussion of leadership and the responsibility that comes with authority. Thinking to tie in something they were familiar with, I reminded of them of the statue that has stood in the foyer of the church in which they had spent most of their lives. Pretty much every child who grew up in the Anaheim Vineyard knows the story of Jesus washing Peter’s feet, for they’ve all climbed over the life-size figures of the two men every Sunday and are as familiar with “The Divine Servant” as with any member of the congregation.
Except that during the pandemic, we found ourselves drawn to meet with a different branch of the Vineyard family, and when the church in Anaheim left the Vineyard movement, we realized that it would no longer be our home, and my children haven’t been in the building in two and half years. So when I prompted them about the story behind the statue, I got blank stares.
“Um…. I think I kind of remember it,” my 11-year old said at last, scrunching up her face as she tried to figure out what I was talking about since she could tell it was important to me.
And inside I just wanted to cry. Only yesterday I was telling someone I was past the emotional response to losing our church home, and then this morning this exchange revealed that while the wound may have closed, it is still raw and tender. Little things I once took for granted have now been revealed to be great blessings.
Last night as I attending a meeting with Friends of Vineyard, I soaked in the joy of being with my church family. Did I really used to get to see these beautiful souls every week? Did I really once pass them in the halls, smile, greet them, and move on? Did I have any idea how much I would miss them when we all found ourselves scattered? Could I ever have imagined that my children wouldn’t remember Jesus washing Peter’s feet? A thousand tiny blessings were such a regular part of our lives that we didn’t stop to thank the Lord for them until we found ourselves without them.
And so one thing I can be thankful for in the midst of all the hurt and disruption is that the Lord has opened my eyes to pay attention to the countless little blessings He so lavishly bestows upon my each and every day.
Mother’s Day is a tricky holiday for me. On the one hand, it is supposed to be a celebration of one of the most profound, impactful relationships in the human experience. Yet on the other hand, it feels so commercial. Neither my husband nor I are big on buying gifts or expressing certain sentiments on arbitrary days just because someone slapped a label on them. He expresses his appreciation for me as the mother of his six children continually throughout the year, and I don’t need anything more on this day just because it’s the second Sunday in May. My children don’t do much since we’ve never modeled that for them, though my mom has tried to help nudge them in that direction over the years. Still, it is hard to ignore the day completely, so I thought I’d jot down some of the things I’ve been reflecting on as this day approached.
Rejoice with those who rejoice
In Romans 12:15, Paul exhorts believers to “rejoice with those who rejoice,” so I thought I’d take a moment to celebrate the mothers in my life.
My own mom is actually the only reason we do anything special on Mother’s Day. Her love language is totally different than mine, and while I would be content with letting this day slip by without any acknowledgement whatsoever, I know it is important to her. These days she tries to honor me more than she lets us honor her, but I try to take the opportunity to bless her for all the love she pours into her children and grandchildren throughout the year.
My mother-in-law passed away the day before my oldest child’s first birthday, and while I only had a brief time with her in my life, I miss her presence more with each year that passes. I wish she had had the chance to get to know all her grandchildren, and I wish they could have known her in person, not just through the stories we tell them about her. Her love has outlived her and continues to influence our family.
I am so thankful for the new mother God brought into their lives when my husband’s father remarried. She went from being the mom of one son and daughter-in-law with one grandson to suddenly having three sons and three daughters-in-law with ten grandchildren between them, and she does an amazing job of making each of us feel special and loved.
Countless women have poured into my life over the years, playing the role of comforter and adviser, offering love and encouragement. They have helped shape me as a woman, as a mother, and as a follower of Christ. Every Mother’s Day God brings some of these women to mind, and I rejoice with them and for them, taking the opportunity to thank Him for bringing them into my life and hopefully to reach out and thank them for the impact they have had.
Weep with those who weep
The second part of Romans 12:15 is less cheery, but to me it will always be a part of Mother’s Day. Part of the reason I’m not so fond of this “holiday” is because I know it is profoundly painful for many. My heart aches for those who dread Mother’s Day, and I find my thoughts are more with them than with the mothers I am celebrating or encountering today.
I think of the years before I met my husband, when I longed to be a mother, watching my friends step into that role and wondering if I would ever get to experience it myself. I remember the Mother’s Day after we got married, when I sat sobbing through church because I hadn’t yet conceived and I feared it might not happen. I know so many who grieve because they are not mothers, and this day is full of reminders that magnify their pain.
I think of those who have lost their mothers, and those who live far from them, who would give anything for the chance to be with their moms today. I think of my friends who have passed away, whose young children are growing up without them, not knowing how much they were loved by those women who are no longer a part of their daily lives. I know they feel a void, and this day can make that emptiness feel even more hollow than usual.
God is only directly referred to as “Father” in Scripture, never “Mother,” but there are several places where metaphors of motherhood are used to describe certain aspects of His character: His comfort (Isaiah 66:13), His shelter (Psalm 91:4), His fierce protectiveness (Hosea 13:8). I pray that those who weep today are able to find peace in the comforting arms of our Heavenly Father, whose love is as comforting, sheltering, and protective as that of any mother.
Over and over in God’s creation and in Scripture, He gives us pictures of resurrection: spring flowers out of the seeming deadness of winter, beauty from ashes, and of course, Christ’s victory over death. Coming out of this recent season of brokenness, pain, and loss, I have been so blessed by the new thing the Lord is doing in the greater church in our area. He is breathing new life into the branches that found themselves cut off when the Anaheim Vineyard ceased to exist as the church it had been for the past almost 45 years.
Tonight, those scattered branches gathered together again, this time hosted by what you might call our “grandmother” church. The group that became the Anaheim Vineyard came out of the Yorba Linda Friends church in 1977. When they left, they asked for and received the blessing of that church. People talk a lot about the Anaheim Vineyard as the “mother church” of the Vineyard movement, and certainly the three new local Vineyard groups (which I wrote about previously) that have formed out of those who left the church due to the decisions made by Alan Scott (up to and culminating with his decision to disassociate the church from the Vineyard movement) would consider it so. When the news of that metamorphic decision got out, the pastor of Yorba Linda Friends reached out to Bob Fulton (who had been a part of that group that left YL Friends so long ago), affirming that “we are family,” asking how they could help those who had been left reeling by what had happened. Bob asked if we could use their space to gather together when Mike Pilavachi was in town. Mike wanted a chance to meet with our local Vineyard family and bless us.
So tonight, we gathered in the building of the church that once sent out the group that would later become the Anaheim Vineyard to be blessed by a man from the UK who had felt the ripple of the ministry that grew out of that new congregation. Talk about coming full circle, right? As we worshipped together, there were gentle reminders of times past (such as John Wimber’s “Isn’t He,” as well as an acapella rendering of “I Love You Lord,” as Lance Pittluck led us countless times during the twenty years he led our congregation), but it was just being together and the sweet presence of the Lord as we worshipped that overwhelmed my heart with gratitude.
After Mike’s message, he felt called to pray for those under twenty-five, and along with the teens and young adults, we sent up our younger children so people could bless them and pray over them. That was when my emotions got the better of me. All I could think of was how much I hope they will fall in love with Jesus as passionately as I did when I was fourteen and first walked into the Anaheim Vineyard. Capture their hearts, Lord. Pour out Your Spirit on this next generation. I couldn’t stop tears from flowing for the rest of the evening.
I remember sometime back in the 1990s, a visiting pastor was telling a story about his church feeling called to bless another local church, and at our Sunday service that night, John Wimber said he felt like God was telling us to take an offering and give it “to our friends,” which he immediately knew meant Yorba Linda Friends. As a baby Christian, it was one of the first opportunities I had to see that the church is really one large family that extended far beyond those I spent each Sunday with. Tonight, we were so blessed by the generosity of YL Friends in opening their building to us because “we are family.”
Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity! . . . For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life forevermore.
(Psalm 133:1,4)
Vineyard Anaheim no longer exists, and many of us felt pretty broken and shaken up by its demise. Yet through its death, many seeds were planted in new soil. Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24). I love seeing how the Lord is taking the small seeds of these three new churches and is breathing life into something new. It is springtime in the Vineyard.
My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away, for behold, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come, and the voice of the turtledove is heard in our land.
The signs have come down, and there is no longer any trace of the Vineyard name on the property my church family called home for three decades. Part of me has been in denial until this point, a small part to be sure, but there nonetheless, hoping against hope that somehow this would all work out and those who call themselves the Anaheim Vineyard family would no longer be homeless.
But it was not to be.
This season has forced so many of us to rethink the meaning of church. We’ve known all along that it is “the people, not the building,” but now that the building has been taken from us, we have no choice but to clarify our definition. What does it mean to be the church?
Looking at the early church in the New Testament, I see a gathering of believers who met regularly and encouraged one another. Acts 2:42 says, “And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” As I read through Acts and the Epistles, I see individuals out sharing the gospel, but the gathering of the church seems focused more on corporate worship and supporting other believers as they face the ups and downs of life.
That support and encouragement is why so many of us felt like the Vineyard was our home and our family. And when Alan Scott took the helm and decided that “pastoring” the congregation would not be a priority, it’s what so many of us felt was missing in the past few years. Many, like my family, left the congregation a while ago, and have already begun to rebuild relationships and make connections. Others have only left after the recent decision to disassociate from the Vineyard movement and are still in the midst of the grief, anger, and hurt so many of us have wrestled with through these years of transition.
Jesus left Peter with the command, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:17). Paul exhorted the Ephesians to “be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ” (Ephesians 5:18-21). He told the Thessalonians, “Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). As a church, we are called to care for one another spiritually, physically, and emotionally. All of this is what it means to be the church. None of this is dependent upon a church building.
While the loss of the building stings, in some ways, it has been a blessing. Those of us who had grown far too comfortable now have to play a more active role in meeting the needs of our church family. While few of us would have chosen this path (the exception being those who felt called to plant the new church before the dissolution of Vineyard Anaheim), God has used these circumstances to bring about many good things. People have stepped up to serve and help lead in new ways. For example, in the Vineyard Yorba Linda group, several worship leaders have been rotating each week who would never have been up in front at Anaheim, but our worship time each week is pure, intimate, and focused on the Lord. That’s just one of the ways has used these painful circumstances to call many of us into things we would not have done were we still comfortably enmeshed in the old Vineyard building.
The result, I am hopeful enough to dare believe, will be a healthier church, thriving in a way we haven’t for the past few decades when we were all together in that beautiful blessing of a building. I pray we will move forward in humility, transparency, love, and respect, knowing all too well how much power we all have to hurt one another when we fall short. This season has shown us how important our fellowship is, how much we love and need our brothers and sisters, and how important it is for us to come together.
Right now this is happening primarily in three groups: the Vineyard Yorba Linda church plant, the backyard gathering at the Kings’, and theVineyard. Each of these gatherings started out of a different place of need. The seeds of the Vineyard Yorba Linda church plant (led by Sam and Brooke Cerny) were there before the Scotts ever came to Vineyard Anaheim, and the group began meeting more than two years ago, though various circumstances have led us to a somewhat different place than we thought we were going. The group at the Kings’ started as a place to watch online church together outside during the pandemic, and again, God had bigger plans and the group grew and became something no one had imagined at the beginning. The last group, theVineyard (led by Bob and Penny Fulton), is the newest, formed out of necessity when the family members still at Vineyard Anaheim suddenly found their heritage stolen and bravely set out to find a place where they could maintain their identity and the relationships they had built over the past 40 years. Each group has its own role to play, but in the end, we are all family, and we are all committed to “being the church”: tending the flock, encouraging one another, gathering to worship and pray, and reaching out to the hurting world around us.
On Easter, all three groups gathered together for a beautiful time of fellowship, worship, teaching, and celebration. It was the first time so many Anaheim refugees had gathered together as one body (I heard estimates of about 250-300 people), and it was a balm for many wounded hearts. I don’t know what the future holds for these three connected branches of the Vineyard Anaheim family tree, but I am excited about how God is moving in our midst, and I look forward to “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead” (Philippians 3:13).
As Carl Tuttle (former worship leader and senior pastor of the Anaheim Vineyard back in the 1990s) commented after seeing a video clip from our worship time, “Who needs a stinking building?”
Vineyard Anaheim, the church I have called home for the past thirty years, is going through a transition that has me looking back and reflecting on all it has meant to me since the day I first crossed its threshold as a lost 14-year old girl.
From the outside, my life looked pretty good at that time. However, that picture-perfect life was not a reflection of my internal reality. Without going into details, home was not a place I felt safe, and although my family was intact, emotionally I felt like an orphan, and I sank into a cycle of depression, despair, and desperation.
My safe haven was a group of friends I was developing through a community theater organization. An avowed atheist since elementary school, I was secretly horrified when I discovered that several of them came from Christian families, but I was starved for the love they offered me, so I was willing to overlook this flaw. My determination was tested when I spent the weekend with my friend Cheryl to save my mom the long trip for several rehearsals (since we lived about a 30-minute drive away), which meant attending church with her family on Sunday morning.
That was the first time I walked into the Anaheim Vineyard, back in the summer of 1991. Cheryl’s dad was helping out in the 4-year old class, which sounded less intimidating to me than going into the youth group, so for several weeks we spent Sunday mornings there with him. On that first Sunday, I remember being horrified that they were “brainwashing these babies!” but by the third week, something had changed in my heart, and I found myself jealous that someone was taking the time to teach these little ones about God, something that had been missing from my own childhood. From that point on, I became a seeker, rather than a sceptic.
Over the next few months, I devoured everything I could learn about God. Cheryl and another friend took me upstairs in “The Shepherd’s Shoppe” to pick out a Bible, which I began reading regularly. We started attending the youth service every week, and I asked my mom to drive me out to church on the rare Sunday mornings I hadn’t spent the night at Cheryl’s. Although I struggled to find faith after years of denying God, eventually I surrendered and committed myself to following Jesus for the rest of my life.
Little did I know how that life would be shaped by the next few years at the Anaheim Vineyard. I came to faith in 1992, and soon after, a powerful season of refreshing came to the church. The Holy Spirit came upon us, and soon I thought nothing of seeing His presence manifested by people shaking, laughing, weeping, prophesying, or speaking in tongues. Our youth group was on fire, and we never gathered (even for birthday parties) without spending some time in worship (thanks to Jeremy Riddle or others always bringing a guitar). While the church came under some criticism during this time, I remember John Wimber telling us that we should judge by the fruit we saw. Looking at the lives of those who went through this time with me, I don’t think anyone could doubt that God was doing something powerful. From our youth group have come pastors, missionaries, church planters, and lay leaders faithfully serving the church and raising up the next generation of disciples.
Most of us attended both the morning and evening services every Sunday, and between outreach, discipleship groups, ministry team meetings, and other weekly events, at one point during those high school years I found myself at the Vineyard six days a week. I couldn’t wait for the school day to end so I could get out to Anaheim where my “real” life took place.
In April 1994, John (brave man!) took a group of high schoolers and young adults for a two-week trip to New Zealand and Australia to serve as the ministry team for some conferences he was leading. It was a life-changing experience. Not only did we see the Spirit fall on people even more powerfully than we had experienced back home, we saw many healed or delivered from demons, and we got to know firsthand what it meant to be “Doin’ the Stuff,” as John called it.
I had always been focused on academics, but that trip shifted my perspective, and I realized that what I wanted more than heading off to a prestigious university was a chance to grow deeper in my faith. I decided to attend a Christian college close enough to home that I could stay involved at church, though many changes came over the next few years. I joined a musical group at the school that often sang at different churches on Sunday mornings. Many of my friends headed off to college out of the area, so even when I made it back to the Vineyard, I often felt lost in the large congregation. John passed away in 1997, and the excitement of the previous few years settled down as we transitioned to the leadership of Lance Pittluck. Like a restless adolescent determined to leave home and discover what else is out there, I decided to start attending a church with some people from my school, but that season quickly revealed to me that there really was no place like home. I returned to Vineyard Anaheim (as it was now being called) and decided that unless the Lord clearly spoke to me about leaving, I was there to stay, for better or for worse.
The next two decades brought a lot of change in my life. I attended a home group with Bob and Penny Fulton, trying to figure out what life was going to look like after college, and they had a profound impact on my spiritual development. I spent some time as a missionary in Kenya, then returned to teach at Vineyard Christian School while also going on staff at the church as part of the children’s ministry team. I met the man I would fall in love with, and he proposed in my 2nd grade classroom. In 2006 we said our marriage vows, and over the next several years we dedicated all six of our children to the Lord and watched our oldest get baptized, all in the sanctuary at Vineyard Anaheim. Through every stage of our journey, we were surrounded by an amazing community led by where we could love and be loved, serve and be served, disciple and be discipled, blessed by the humble and faithful leadership of Lance and the rest of the pastoral staff.
When Lance announced his retirement, we had a meeting with all those who served in any leadership capacity at the church, talking about how to walk through transition. None of us had any idea of how much we would be impacted by the changes about to come. When the search committee announced the selection of Alan and Kathryn Scott to be the new lead pastors, I was excited about a new season beginning. Alan had a lot of vision for how he wanted to see the church grow, and Kathryn was a gifted worship leader with a beautiful heart for God. Every week we saw new people coming on Sunday mornings.
A lot of hard changes came with the transition as well. Alan’s focus was on bringing new people in, and he flat out told us he wasn’t going to “pastor” us for a while. It soon became clear what that meant. Small groups were shut down with a promise to reboot them following a different model. The women’s Bible study that had sustained so many homeschool mamas and other women each week for years was shut down. Within a year or so, every member of the pastoral staff that had been in place when the Scotts came had either been let go for financial reasons or chose to leave because they felt God calling them elsewhere. The entire youth volunteer staff was told they were no longer needed, as were the ushers, to make room for new teams of people yet to be assembled. Those of us who had called Vineyard Anaheim home for decades suddenly found ourselves cut off from the ministries that kept us connected to the body. As I walked in one Sunday morning, I was greeted by someone I’d never seen before who asked me if I was visiting for the first time. What on earth had happened to my home? I was thrilled to have so many new people, but where were the familiar faces? Positions that had always been filled by volunteers were now taken by those who paid to be a part of Alan’s Encounter School of Mission instead.
The emphasis was always on those who were new and those who were outside the church. Alan said the church had been slowly dying for years, and it seemed like he looked down on those of us who had chosen to stay through that time, seemingly oblivious to the many positive things that had been going on and choosing instead to focus only on the problems that most would admit had existed. From the stage, he repeatedly criticized former leaders and the way various ministries had been run in the past, which was deeply hurtful to those of us who loved the brothers and sisters who had faithfully served for many years. I started to see friends leaving the church because they no longer felt at home.
Determined to stick it out through thick and thin, for two years we tried to figure out our place in this expanded family. We tried to connect with a new small group when they started up again, but it was hard to replace the connection we had felt with the group we had been with for years. I tried to start up a small group for moms, but it wasn’t even put on the list of groups passed out on Sunday mornings, so no would would even know it existed unless they looked on the website. No matter what we tried, we just couldn’t seem to find our place in the new church Alan was building.
In desperation, we ended up joining a midweek group not connected with Vineyard Anaheim that was actually intending to be the start of a new church being planted nearby. From the first moment we walked in, I felt a sense of relief. The group was made up mostly of people we’d done life with for decades at Anaheim, and it felt like home after the past two years of feeling displaced. Then Covid hit and all the churches closed down for in-person gatherings. We watched the Vineyard Anaheim services online for months and joined groups meeting online, but was hard for our kids to feel connected, so when we heard that the church plant group was going to start meeting on Sunday mornings in the pastor’s backyard, we jumped at the chance to find some fellowship, even though we still really considered Anaheim our home. However, it wasn’t long before we realized that maybe the reason we hadn’t been able to find our place at Anaheim was because God had a different place for us at this time.
Eventually Vineyard Anaheim reopened, but we decided to stay and be a part of planting the new church. There weren’t a lot of youth though, so our oldest asked to go back to Anaheim where he had so many relationships and we agreed, at least until our new church had grown a bit more. I loved our new church family, and I tried to come to grips with the idea that Vineyard Anaheim was no longer my home. The Lord even spoke to me in a dream about it, showing me how it was being “remodeled” and would no longer even be recognizable as the home where I had lived spiritually for almost 30 years.
Still, on Friday, February 25, when I learned of Alan’s decision to disassociate the church from the Vineyard movement, it hit me like a ton of bricks. While I know the Church is far bigger than any one congregation or association of churches, Vineyard Anaheim has a unique identity and history as what most would call the “mother” of the Vineyard movement, and the idea of it no longer being a Vineyard is almost incomprehensible to most of us connected to it. And now this man who had moved into my home 4 years before and driven me out along with many if not most of my family, seemed to be kicking my mother out of her own home and taking over it for his own purposes.
I don’t want to use this post to get into the details of this decision and the many, many things I feel are wrong about the way it has been made, communicated, and carried out. (You can read some of Bob Fulton’s thoughts on it here.) I am still processing my grief and anger at the hurt that this decision has caused to so many I love, and I just wanted to use this space to touch on a small part of the story of this church body.
Psalm 68:8 says, “God settles the solitary in a home” (ESV). Vineyard Anaheim was the place where God brought a broken, hurting young girl, gave her a spiritual family, and brought her up as His child. I had looked forward to passing that heritage on to my children as they begin to step out in their own faith, and the thought that the Vineyard Anaheim will cease to exist breaks my heart. But as Carol Wimber, John’s wife, wrote in her letter to the VA board, “God is still on the throne,” and I find my peace in that truth.
My only real online presence has been my homeschool blog, histreasureseekers.com, but I realize homeschooling won’t always monopolize my time, so I decided it was time to establish a place to just be me, apart from any other role. I don’t know when I might start posting or even how I will use this space, but I wanted to know it was here.
