21-The Progression of the Mexican Ministry

In a previous post I covered the actual rooting of the Mexican Ministry into the ABC with the story of Luis. This post explains the growth.


 
The Mexican Ministry began to take visible shape about the time I returned to San Diego. My father’s visits to, and befriending of, the shopkeepers in Tijuana eventually yielded visits to their homes and this brought requests for teachings. Homes were then needed in Mexico for the foundation meetings but most homes in Tijuana were tiny, some had dirt floors, and none would accommodate a large meeting. Rather than renting a building or hall a small apartment was rented in the La Playa area of Tijuana on the western edge of town. This was close to San Diego, but Tijuana roads were seldom maintained and this made for very treacherous driving at times. It was a long slow commute up the hill, made worse when it rained. It was not unusual in a heavy downpour to find these roadways had become raging torrents of flood water. Often in Tijuana entire homes would wash down the hills in these downpours since they were built on tires and other debris and not concrete foundations to bedrock. There were usually a numbers of deaths from these floods. Poverty can be deadly.

The Crown Victoria, and other sedans, my father was using to get to this apartment; and to pick up some of the Mexican people on the way; were not suited for the journey over deeply rutted roads so an offering was requested to buy a large van. The money was raised, a van was purchased, but within months it was apparent this vehicle too  would not hold up to the strain of the Tijuana roads. Another call went out for more money to purchase a large Chevy Suburban with four-wheel drive and a high clearance suspension. This was a more effective vehicle to maneuver the back roads and alleys of Tijuana, and became a bus of sorts picking up people to take to the meetings.

I was at a few of the meetings at the La Playa apartment. There were usually about five or six people from Tijuana, and about the same number would travel over from the states. These were typical foundation meeting with singing (one of the Mexican people had translated a few of the songs into Spanish), a teaching out of the Greek, spoken in English then interpreted into Spanish by a man named Pablo then prayer for any needs. It was not possible to construct a teaching the same as before since the ABC relies heavily on the Greek to develop its teaching points. To teach from the Greek required translating first from Greek into English, then from English into Spanish. This was proving quite difficult and the teachings moved in very slow motion. Most attending politely nodded their heads but no one really knew if the nodding meant they truly understood, or were just being courteous since no one from the states spoke much Spanish. I suspect it is the latter.

Not long after the apartment was rented in La Playa a large storm washed away the road making the apartment inaccessible without a long drive through side roads. This meant it would now take more than an hour to drive each way over rutted treacherous roads. A search was made for a new location to hold the meetings and eventually a large house was rented closer to central Tijuana. This home sat on top of a hill overlooking all of Tijuana and was constructed of stucco, stone and brick with lots of wrought iron. I took the pictures below at this house. The first picture was a kid's birthday party and the second is the view from this house at night. It had quite a view looking out over Tijuana.


This house was too big to justify renting just for meetings so David North moved his family to the house, enrolled his children in Mexican school, then commuted each day across the border into San Diego to work. There was not much left at the La Playa apartment for meetings; just a whiteboard and some chairs; but after the move to the big house it still needed to be retrieved. I was enlisted for that long drive to retrieve them and David North rode along with me. Since I had to do this after work this meant driving into Tijuana after dark and, while in Mexico, one of my headlights burned out. A local police officer, who spoke little English, stopped me. I spoke very little Spanish but  understood enough to know he wanted to take my car because it was not "legal". He planned to drop us off at the airport to fly back to San Diego from Tijuana. This was totally impractical as the distance between the two airports was perhaps twenty miles at best. David North paid the officer money and this caused him to "forget" about impounding my car and he let us go. It was a tense moment. We found a headlamp at a little shop in La Playa and changed it before heading back to San Diego.

Meetings were held at the large central Tijuana house for several months, but the massive flooding in La Playa, and other areas, had forced the Mexican government to address the housing situation and most of the participants had been moved far east from the downtown core. Flooding problems occurred during every storm on the hilly areas so the government built large tenements of solid concrete on a mesa near the Tijuana airport where flooding was never a problem. The church gave up the house and David North and family moved back across the border to the Casa Grande. Having a permanent house in Tijuana was  then abandoned forever. My stepmother, Yvonne, would later acquire another home in Tijuana, after my father's death, after starting her own new ministry in Tijuana. I will address that separately since it was not an official "sanctioned" part of the ABC.

The meetings moved to the home of a woman everyone called  "mama". On meeting days the Suburban would leave San Diego several hours before the start time, make a "bus run" to pick up anyone who lived too far to walk, and take them to these meetings. Most of the participants were related in some way and all were very poor. Nothing was ever done to aid their poverty, the ABC provided only teachings in Greek word studies.

Altogether there was only a handful of people's lives "The Mexican Ministry" ever touched. It officially ended not long after my father's death. I do not know exactly when, since I was not around but I do know, from what I heard, San Diego became a battleground for power and control and Yvonne, my stepmother, would leave the ABC to continue the Mexican Ministry on her own. During this time she negotiated a permanent pension from the tithes.  I was not part of the ABC then, but received regular updates on the progress from Yvonne by form letter.

In the next post, and the one following, I will introduce a threatening letter sent to all in the ABC and some anomalies that developed. Mostly because of the forming of the "Mexican Ministry".

20-San Diego-Heart and Family

I can only describe activities in San Diego over the next few years as frenetic.  The all-consuming pace  of the San Diego / Mexico events  caused most everything to run together in the sands of my memory so I have divided this section into separate subjects rather than chronological. I find it impossible to keep a precise timeline because the pace was so fast, the incidents so strange and some quite severe.  I know very little of what happened in the other areas during this time; Grants Pass, Vancouver / Portland, Denver, etc. During this era I focus my observations strictly on the San Diego /Mexico events because that is what I personally witnessed.

I lived in San Diego, this time, until February of 1985. I had been ex-communicated and removed from the ABC in January 1984 by my father but I still lived and worked in San Diego. I had little contact with the ABC during that final year then left San Diego and moved back to the Puget Sound region.

FAMILY CHANGES

Not long after returning to San Diego; in February 1980; my grandmother, on my father's side, passed away. It was not unexpected as she had pancreatic cancer; but it was still difficult.  I dearly loved her and, knowing she was so ill, I made an out of the way trip to her place on my move back to San Diego. I knew this would be the last time I would ever see her and it was heartbreaking to leave. It still feels like a great loss to me. Some of the best days of my life were spent with this grandmother in Seattle at her house. Her death was quite a blow to me as well as my father. Having been an only child my father had always been close to his mother and we visited often. We spent nearly every Thanksgiving or Christmas at her house as  was growing up. She was an incredible person and I still miss very much.

About two years after my grandmother died my grandfather, on my father's side, also died. I was somewhat close to this grandfather but he was never a talkative man and I know very little about his life. He was kind, but not close in the same way my grandmother was. His death created a great deal of tension in the family because of "things". My father, worried other members of the family would swoop in and grab stuff from his apartment, had me accompany him on a mad dash to Kennewick to empty out the contents and drive it all back to San Diego in a U-Haul truck. I did not know then what we were doing was technically illegal since probate had not yet completed. It was rumored later, by my next older brother, we had taken things from the apartment pledged to him by my grandmother in her will. That may have been; I really don't know. I received nothing from my grandmother's things either and it all went to fill up my dad's home; the Casa Grande in San Diego. It had been rumored an account had been established for each of us three grandchildren by my grandmother, payable after my grandfather's passing, and this may be true as well, but my father was executor of the estate and refused to show any of us the will. No copy was ever filed with the county as the estate was relatively small.  I moved on; it was just money and things, but these allegation by other family members I had been a party to this "theft" were simply not true. I had no personal stake in this trip and simply helped drive the truck back to San Diego at my father’s request.

My father, still in recovery from heart surgery during this trip to Kennewick, planned to drive my grandfather's car back to San Diego. He became so weak during the trip he was unable to finish the journey so we left him at an airport (I have forgotten in which city) and he flew back.  A man named Don and I finished driving the car and truck back to San Diego. As an interesting side note to this  journey; the truck given to us by U-Haul was ancient and decrepit and literally got two miles per gallon, or less. This meant we had to stop about every fifty miles for fuel. In central California on I-5 the exits are sometimes fifty miles apart which gave us some very tense moments during our journey, unsure we would make it to the next station. We documented the fuel guzzling with receipts and U-Haul did reimburse us for the extra fuel. 

HEART DISEASE

During the holiday season of 1981 we went, as a group, to view the Christmas lights on a lane in Chula Vista. On this excursion, after walking just half a block from the van, my father became very winded  so he went back to the van to wait for the rest of us to return. Insisting this was "just a cold" he said he felt like he maybe had "asthma". It turned out to be a faulty heart valve and congestive heart failure. He ignored this for a time but, when it got much worse, he had no choice but to seek medical help. He had avoided visiting the doctor because he lacked health insurance but, once he visited a cardiologist, and was tested, he was 
scheduled for an emergency valve replacement surgery and quadruple bypass. He was actually near death on that outing to see the lights. Someone, I do not know who, took up a special offering to cover the surgery costs.

I was not working at this time; since I had been injured on the job; and spent most of my days at the hospital until he was out of the woods. It was not clear whether he would survive the surgery; since it was so extensive; and for about five days two nurses monitored multiple IV lines that kept his heart rhythm stabilized. It was a grueling recovery and there was still a real concern he would not survive.  He did survive and, directly afterward, changed his diet dramatically, lost weight, walked several miles each day and even joined a gym. These new habits eventually dropped away and his life returned to the same hectic schedule he had kept before the surgery. Once again began sneaking out for donuts, pastries and the like multiple times per day. The surgery saved his life, and gave him an extra five years to live, and he died on October 25, 1985 of a sudden heart attack in a Mexican Restaurant in San Diego. I know few details of the incident. It is my understanding he was eating out with David North and his wife when he suddenly complained of weakness. After this, he fell from the booth and was just gone. There were efforts to revive him by paramedics but they failed.  No one ever called me from the ABC to let me know what happened. 

I am convinced part of him was lost during this heart surgery. I have read about this extensively and am also acquainted with a doctor who specializes in the treatment of heart disease. This doctor helped move me beyond some major health problems of my own a few years ago; not heart related;  and I still follow his plan for my heart and health nearly to the letter.  This doctor stated it is well known in the medical community; although not widely publicized; small brain injuries occur during most heart surgeries. This is because of the plaques and fat globules that break free during surgery and strike the brain causing small strokes. These injuries can alter mood and temperament if the damage occurs in the frontal lobe. There were specific instances, after my father's surgery, I believe show this happened.  My dad became much stronger physically, for a while, but there were things about him mentally that had transformed.  He became much more emotional, but not everyone noticed this. I did. One of the last times we spent together; at a restaurant in Alpine California; he broke down sobbing in the middle of the restaurant. This was very unlike him.  He felt he could no longer keep up the pace of the very thing he had created (the ABC) but also felt an obligation "for the people" to keep going. He talked about his death as if it were imminent and this was a good indicator he had become depressed. I didn't understand that at the time. The next time I saw him, after this incident, he was back to the mad dash that had defined his life. He also began to have frequent middle of the night sessions of extreme anxiety and would sometimes not sleep and pace the floor for hours. I discovered this when I spent a few nights at his house after my divorce.  It was also soon after this restaurant encounter I would find myself disowned.  I do not contribute the disowning itself to the changes after the surgery; it had happened too many times, to too many others over the years; but I do blame the vicious manner in which it was accomplished on these changes. At least I hope so. 

RESIDENCE CHANGES

When I arrived in San Diego, the bus had been permanently parked at the San Ysidro RV park and a park model trailer had been purchased and moved in next to the bus giving my father, and Yvonne, plenty of extra space to live.  This allowed my step-siblings; who were now teenagers;  more room and privacy. Both the bus and trailer were parked just ten feet from the Interstate 5 freeway and the roar of traffic, even at night, was deafening. This was an unacceptable place for someone with serious heart disease to live so my father's doctor ordered a move away from the freeway...now! 

The first move would be to a small apartment nearby in Chula Vista. This move to the apartment would be the first time, since 1973, my father had lived in regular housing. After this move David North took over use of the bus and trailer and my father never returned to living there.

The apartment, a small two bedroom, got my father into a quiet environment and it was here he returned from heart surgery. I picked him up at the hospital to bring him home and his first request was to get his hair cut. This we did. It was a rather unusual request because he had very little hair. The barber made a couple of small snips and he was done. I think this made him feel as though he could get back to normal life, and was actually a good moment between us; one of the few. He was still weak and needed help walking and this was another one of those very rare moments we had to just talk and be friends. It was odd for me because my father was never one that needed much help.

I don't recall exactly how long my father lived in the apartment but the move changed his outlook. He seemed to no longer desire life as an itinerant minister and just wanted to settle down. This was quite a change for him.  I remember one time; when I was thirteen, and we had first moved to San Juan Island; we had gone together looking at an old small ferry he had seen an ad for in a "Little Nickel" style paper.  His plan he related to me, on the drive to see it, would be to move a mobile home onto the car deck for instant living space then convert the passenger deck into a floating church. He wanted to then travel from island to island preaching.  The ferry had no engine, was sitting next to the Puget Sound on dry ground tipped sideways, and would have cost a huge amount to bring back to usable shape. There was also the little problem of it needing an engine and a crew to actually run it.  It was a fun idea for a day but he abandoned it as impossible once he actually saw the ferry.

Once my father recovered from surgery, he decided the apartment was too small. He also felt it was senseless to pay rent on an apartment and have two RV spaces as well. For the same cost he could purchase one large home. I was not involved in this search for a home but he eventually found a very large home in a rather nice neighborhood of Chula Vista. It was soon labeled "Casa Grande" because of its enormous size. It had, as I recall, four bedrooms, a huge den / family room and a very large living / dining room. A large kitchen sat in the middle of it all and in back was a huge patio with nicely landscaped yard. This house was sold years later, and they purchased another, even larger home, with an in-ground pool. I was not in the ABC at the time but saw that home when I returned for the funeral.

Not long after the move to Casa Grande, David North and his wife also moved into the Casa Grande and the trailer was then towed to the Alpine RV park in the mountains. The bus was moved into a storage lot and the ABC never used it again. I assume they eventually sold it.

In my next post I will detail the development of the Mexican Ministry and, in the following post, will cover a few of the anomalies it spawned.

NEXT POST

19-Back to San Diego-"Mexican Ministry" Roots

The root of the "Mexican Ministry of the Assembly of the Body of Christ" dates to May 9, 1978. This is the day a tape was sent to all the elders asking for money to be paid for a man named Luis in Mexico. This matter was introduced as catalyst to  "open a new ministry for every one of us".  The tape was recorded in San Diego just before I left to Grants Pass to finish school. At the very end it names me as the contact person but I did not actually remain in San Diego long enough to fulfill that role, nor was I even aware at the time the tape was made my father was placing me in that role. It appeared to be an afterthought of his the next day.  I might have assumed that role if I had remained  in San Diego but, with the direction the “Mexican Ministry” took, I am quite certain I would not have continued for long.

The entire tape is 26 minutes long so I provide a synopsis in bullet points below. You may listen to it's entirety at this link: LINK TO ENTIRE TAPE

  • Tape purpose: To open a new ministry for everyone.
  • My father became close to man in Mexico named Luis, age 29, from Nicaragua. He took a trip with him from Tijuana to Ensenada.
  • On this trip Luis told a story in confidence about leaving Nicaragua after the 6.2 earthquake in 1972. He had, per his report, intended to enter the U.S. while the border was open for disaster evacuees. Luis stated he got a Visa to Mexico then hitchhiked from Mexico City to Tijuana. He discovered the US border was closed to evacuees so he allegedly became stranded in Mexico.
  • Luis is presented as an honest man who speaks English, Japanese and several other languages. He now works in Mexico, established himself in Tijuana; married, had a child, then lost his citizenship in Nicaragua because he had been away for five years. He alleges he became a man without a country and stated he had to lie on his marriage certificate about his age, place of birth, father's name and even falsified his name to get married. (Note: Luis never stated what his real name was and there were a few, including me, who questioned the validity of his story. A check of Nicaraguan law showed one does not lose citizenship by being away for five years. The only way citizenship is lost is when a person voluntarily gains a foreign citizenship other than with a country Nicaragua has a dual nationality agreement with.)
  • Luis wants help to become a citizen of the US so my father spoke with a US attorney. This could only happen if Luis had $40,000 or could find a job no one else could do. Neither is possible for him.
  • Luis wants instead to become a Mexican citizen so he can get a passport to enter US and get a job. It is a long process, very costly and since there are lies on his marriage certificate it is not possible without a Mexican attorney.
  • My father found a tourist public defender in Mexico with ties to the Mexican Government who can bribe officials to have the marriage license changed to eliminate the four lies. If not fixed, Luis could allegedly be jailed.  Luis is considered by my father to be a responsible citizen, not a  smoker, drinker, and happily married so this may be possible.
  • The reason for the tape is to ask for $2000.00, maybe more, to have this attorney pay off four Mexican government officials and have the marriage license corrected.
  • My father states he prayed about it and “the Lord showed him” the ABC had learned about tithing and offerings but now God wants to use this opportunity to teach the ABC about alms.
  • My father feels this is an opportunity to minister to Luis, have him become part of the ABC and then, through Luis, get acquainted with other Mexican men and families who may want to associate with the ABC.
  • To help Luis the money cannot, allegedly by scripture, be used from tithes or offerings, it must come only from alms. If people will send money for this my dad is confident "the Lord will bless the whole congregation."
  • It will take a year or two to complete the process but the attorney first needs at least $2000.00 retainer to get started.
  • Luis's wife is allegedly  “impressed with my father and the honesty in his face”. My father states God is moving in the Mexican area and they are dealing with another family too. They plan to spend the night at this family's house. Another man volunteered to become an interpreter if my father begins to teach in Mexico.  (It is interesting to note that no one in “The Mexican Ministry” ever took the effort to become fluent in Spanish.  Instead more money was always asked of the people to hire interpreters.)
  • Afterthought on tape: My father said he couldn't sleep after making the tape and paced the floor all all night. He discovered there was an error on the tape and stated alms are to be given only in secret and should never be made public. We are commanded to tithe he stated and are expected to give offerings he commented and we are blessed in these things through our obedience. However it is only in giving alms we will truly be blessed. Alms should be given quickly, he stated, before the right hand knows what the left has done.
From my many experiences with my father calling and asking me to go begging for more money this tape seemed just another shakedown. The ABC was becoming wealthy and my father was even talking about the eventual purchase of a jet to fly up and down the coast to teach. The bus became a series of larger and larger and wealthier homes, the Casa Grande being the final one before my father died.

I know little of what happened in San Diego the two years I was away at school. By the time we returned in May 1980 "The Assembly of the Body of Christ" group in San Diego had become much less Navy.  Most of the guys had fulfilled their enlistments, many had married, and most of the original "San Diego group" had moved on to other cities. In their place, a smaller group of "just plain working folk" existed. While there were a few "new babes", most living in San Diego now had either moved in from other areas or been around a while. This made the San Diego group mostly self-sustaining and my father, freed from having to assist with the daily activities of the church in San Diego, and all other areas, focused his efforts out of the country now, in Tijuana Mexico.

The bus was permanently parked now at the San Ysidro RV Park in South San Diego; just one mile from the Mexican border; and my father had purchased a park model trailer that sat next to the bus giving them much more room to live. This permanently ended their cramped living style in the school bus. Jon and Lavonne maintained their bedrooms in the dual lofts in the bus and my father and Yvonne used the trailer as their primary living area.  The downside was that LaVonne now had very little oversight and her drug habit was completely out of control.  David North, his wife and family also moved into the RV park as well and were assisting with the newly forming "Mexican Ministry."

Gilbert Larson formed a new group in Denver Colorado; Bruce Leonard moved to Vancouver Washington from Seattle and started meetings in both Vancouver Washington and Portland Oregon; across the Columbia river. Grants Pass still continued meetings after I left but was in a slow process of separating themselves permanently from the ABC. A few of the ex-Navy guys from San Diego moved to Belfair Washington and  began civilian work at the Naval Shipyard. They had a very small meeting with just their families and this group never gained much in attendance beyond just those few families.

My first introduction to how the "Mexican Ministry" operated came about a week after we arrived in San Diego. My father invited us to go along with him on his “rounds” in Tijuana. I had been to Tijuana many times as a tourist but my father now had certain shopkeepers; in a mall area below the main boulevard; he visited several times per week. During these visits he would talk with them, pray for their businesses and he had, it seemed, become good friends with many of the people in the mall and a few shops on the main street above as well. 

In the next post, we settle into San Diego again and life takes a lot of turns.

18-State of the Family Address

 
As I move into the final San Diego period; final for me anyhow since I have no plans to live there again; I now jump slightly ahead in the story to write about the impact my father's "church-building" had on  his natural and adopted family. This is important to analyze because if a man cannot build an earthly family correctly, and give it some glue, he cannot be expected to build a spiritual family that also maintains some glue. It is not possible.
...but if a man doesn't know how to rule his own house, how will he take care of the assembly of God?
                                                                1 Timothy 3:5
I claim no perfection with family building. Following the ABC guidance, I failed that role myself. I did what I learned; even if what I learned was wrong. But I have no intention of starting a church, as my father did, and do not feel qualified.  I also do not feel my father was qualified to start a church.

A major era in my life ended in San Diego. The events that happened during this chapter of my life caused my father to thrust me completely out of his church and his life.  I was present in his life, but not once did I ever feel I was actually in his life. When he finally disowned me completely; because I would not see everything exactly as he did; he did not even tell me this himself. He instead left word with another individual that when they saw me again; they were to tell me he never wanted to see me again. It is a promise he kept to his grave and is a scar that will never heal.  Despite our differences, and despite the pain he brought to me and many other people, I still wish we had been close. At least for a short period.  It never happened. Sadly, only a few ever questioned his actions, then or even now. It was assumed, since he had appointed himself  "the apostle", everything he did or said must have been correct and "from God." I assure you, it was not. From an insider perspective, of both his family and church, he was just as fallible as anyone else and committed many acts which would have caused anyone else in the church to be "disciplined" or cast out. He committed a few acts which could have seen him confronted by the justice system. Because of his self appointed status as "apostle", he was never once called to account for his actions  by the members of the church.

After my father's death, and after many of the facts of the  "Mexican Ministry" period began to surface, Gilbert Larson visited my home in Port Orchard WA. (I had moved there shortly after being ex-communicated the first time.)  Gilbert acknowledged I had been wronged, apologized on everyone's behalf, then told me God needed me "in the body" and requested I return.  After my father had thrust me out, in such a violent manner, I had no intention of ever returning to the ABC. Especially after the humiliation I suffered when I was told by David North I was not welcome at my father's funeral.  My siblings; who had long ago rejected the ABC; were apparently welcome to attend, yet I was not.  My older sibling made a scene, threatened a lawsuit against the ABC, they backed down and I  attended. However, I was told I was not allowed to speak. I went to the funeral, which despite the ABC contention they are not a "church" in the usual sense, was held in a chapel and was very "church-like". It felt like the final abandonment by my father as he reached beyond the grave to once again slam me into a wall one last time. That sting hurts to this day but, if I were to put our complete family history on full display, my father had a history of abandoning his family long before I was even born.

After Gilbert visited my home, I did not return to the ABC right away. I waited a few months then, taking the apology bait, returned. I did not understand then I was simply being played on a hook by Gilbert Larson so he could trade more easily on my father's name.  My first realization of this came when I discovered Gilbert was reprinting a book my father wrote when he was alive. Gilbert Larson was putting my father's name, picture and a mailing address on the back cover of this book as if he was still alive and one could write to my father with questions! This deeply offended me and I told Gilbert so quite emphatically.  He suggested, when we spoke, perhaps he should have talked to me first.  I would have said "no" and am certain this is why he did not ask. The practice of presenting someone deceased as having a PO Box where one could write to them just seems far out of line with what would be considered normal.

My brother, two years my senior; and also once an elder in the ABC, holding regular meetings in his home;  left "the group" suddenly in 1978 declaring  it to be "cult-like"  and overly authoritative. He told me then he did not like the directions things were heading and saw  people were losing their ability to think for themselves. At the time he mildly suggested I get out too. I did not listen but I wish I had.

There is no reason to list all the messy details but life at our home was much less than calm. As a result, my oldest sibling left our home at age seventeen, choosing the Vietnam war, and military service, over the war at home. They never chose to be part of the ABC.

I have two step-siblings; a stepbrother Jon and a stepsister LaVonne and have not seen them since the day I was disowned so I know little firsthand about their current lives. I know only what I have heard through the grapevine.  My stepbrother, while I lived in San Diego, had a few run-ins with the law, and a substance abuse problem but the last I heard he had moved to LA, straightened out his life and had a great job with a telecommunications company.  He was smart, when he applied himself, so I know he has done well.  He also separated himself from the ABC, as soon as he could leave home, and did not return. 

My stepsister drifted into drug use at about age eleven or twelve. At last report she was trying to survive on the streets of San Diego with a serious substance abuse problem and was making money for her drug addictions in any way she could.  If she has straightened out her life since, I wish her well.

My stepmother, Yvonne, keeps a monetary connection with the ABC through a retirement fund paid from the monthly tithes. That retirement plan has been a point of contention within the church for many years.  She no longer has any connection to the meetings, decision making or to the church itself in any other way than monetary. 

There was a time, a number of years ago, when all the anger I stuffed about what my father had done to our family, and his adopted family, leaked out when I was alone.  I would shout at him, even though I knew very well he lay silent beneath the ground at the Naval cemetery in Point Loma and could never hear or respond. These one-sided angry dialogues served no real purpose other than to reveal I had plenty of buried anger to deal with. I have done that, but still so much wish he was not beyond the reach of my words so I could tell him how I feel.  He left behind quite a lot of pain in our family, as well as many other  families and lives. This pain will never be completely resolved.

The last day I saw my father alive was in a hastily called "body counsel" in San Diego. At this "body counsel" I asked to speak to him privately in his office. He adamantly refused, became enraged, ran out the front door, got in his van and, still in a rage, drove out of control across the front lawn leaving deep furrows. He did not ever return that night and instead passed word through others he had disowned me completely. It was heartbreaking then, and even more so now. When I see others present him as a "man of God", and feel he had something more from God than all the rest, it is honestly painful. He was not in control of his emotions and this last incidence of rage was not an anomaly. I know the grace of God, and his mercy, will cover the mistakes he made but I cannot view him as someone more special than any other person.  He was a man with faults like any other and the myths that have grown around his life are difficult to hear. I was there in his real life. I know the truth.

Many loved my father and, honestly, despite my anger with him at his actions toward our family, I loved him too in some ways. He was my father; he had a good side, and, with a few exceptions, would not regard him as plotting or evil.  He was mostly driven to fulfill his goal of heading up a church and he let that goal own him. Even to the point of abandoning his family responsibilities and even to the point of  deliberately manipulating others through lies and falsehoods. I was, at one time, early on, an admirer of what I thought was his vision. That of a group of people who would serve God in peace, love  and true fellowship; but the words he spoke did not ever match  the reality of what actually happened. 

While I loved my father, he never did  truly love or respect his natural family. We were mostly a burden to him and interfered with his "mission" of building a church of his own design. He pulled us along, on his ever growing quest to build a church, mostly out of obligation, and not love of family. On San Juan Island, when that burden became too great, he left his family behind to pursue his "church building"  but this time with even greater fervor. For some reason, and this has always confused me; he abandoned his natural family then immediately adopted a brand new family. 

My father left a legacy of a broken family and also left behind the legacy of a  broken church. This church "The Assembly of the Body of Christ" (ABC) now follows in those footsteps he left behind and leaves in its wake broken hearts and broken people just like my father left behind a broken family.  
 
I learned directly this concept of abandonment from the practices and example of my father Ramon A Haas. Gilbert Larson told me, more times than I might count, that God hates divorce.  Yet my father not only divorced my mother, he also divorced his family and it is only because my mother was not a stronger person I actually ended up living with him. It was clear I was not entirely welcome in his home. The Bible states Jesus came to heal,  lift burdens and set us free, yet when I removed the polarized lenses that shielded my view of all that is unpleasant, it became glaringly clear the concepts of Christ's ministry; healing, lifting burdens setting at liberty, etc. are completely opposite those in evidence in the ABC. That causes me great sadness.
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The book of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. He opened the book, and found the place where it was written, "The Spirit of the Lord is on me, Because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, To proclaim release to the captives, Recovering of sight to the blind, To deliver those who are crushed, And to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord." Luke 4:17-19 

In the next post I will share a tape sent to the elders at the beginning of the "Mexican Ministry and a little on how the Mexican Ministry got started.