A Heartfelt Confession
A Heartfelt Confession from Brian Pelfrey, Former Minister of NTCC
I have something to confess. It has plagued my mind for many days and, though it may seem a petty matter to some, I cannot find a place of mental rest until I have unburdened myself of this weight. Of the event I am about to describe to you I am truly and sincerely ashamed. I know that it is useless to wish, but I wish I could turn back time…
When I cried as a boy I was told to “cut that out.” When I was hurt on the football field I was told “get up and walk around–it ain’t never gonna get no better if ya don’t walk on it.” So I have built a strong shield against the pain of personal offense and hurt. If I were violated on my own account, I would feel ashamed to say so. It is the offense that hurts another that I feel the most, therefore. It is the pain of the innocent “someone else” that cuts into me deeply.
During the time I was teaching in Graham, Washington, there were hundreds of nights on which RW Davis held classes over which he presided personally. I have many vivid recollections of these nights, and some of them are painful to me because I can recall the humiliation suffered by individuals; humiliation based upon Davis’ unsupported presumption of Apostolic Authority, and the supposition that his job was to turn useless nobodies into leadership material through tedium and trial.
There was no escape nor recourse. There was not one person truly capable of defending him or her self against this man, because to withstand him was to rebel against God, and the threat of an eternity in hell loomed over every soul in his orbit. Yet there were some who, if anything, were even less capable of defending themselves than the rest of us–innocent and harmless spirits whom RW Davis had no right to offend.
One particular evening, class was about to begin. Rev. Butler was taking the role, counting heads and verifying attendance, and the atmosphere had taken on that nervous, quiet character that always accompanied such moments, for it was known that anything could happen: a joke might be told, OR a person’s self-worth might be utterly wrecked. The microphone at the desk was turned on with a penetrating “THUMP”, and Davis’ voice, harsh and deep, asked “What is that?!” Everyone looked up to find an expression of real disgust twisting his features. His immediate target could not be ascertained at first, but he was scowling at someone on the ladies’ side of the room (his left). “That thing in your hair!” he bellowed. “What IS that?!”
Near the front of the room, not far from the center aisle, sat a young girl with dark hair, small and meek, her voice a mere squeak barely registering in the classroom. I do not know her name, only that she seemed very young and frightened. She was fidgeting, not knowing what was happening or why. Her hair was held in place at the top by a clip, and this clip was several inches wide and covered with a billowy, white (or light blue)satin tuft, gathered into a fan shape. “I’m asking you, what IS that?!” It is difficult to answer a question to which the answer is obvious, especially when you feel you are being set up. The ladies around her were giggling nervously, hoping RW Davis was only joking. “It’s a…a bow?…sir?”
The expression of disgust only deepened, as if Davis had just now discovered that it was a bow. Those of us who were sitting in the back (teachers, faculty and licensed ministers) were by this time fully aware of the plight of this poor girl. We had been around long enough to know that Davis was not kidding. He was making an example of this girl. The message was not just to her–she was only the focal point–but to all: “Get in step, or this will happen to you.” Davis does this periodically that it may serve as a reminder of who is in charge.
“You look like Bo Peep.” This was met by more giggles. The girl was rigid with fear. I am sure she was trying to behave as if under control, yet was on the brink of tears. “You look like a little KID!” Silence. It was clear to everyone now; This is not funny. He was insulting her womanhood, her maturity, her ability to be a preacher’s wife and an example to others. I don’t think she could have been much over twenty years old, and probably newly married. “Get rid of it.” All she could do was to squeak a humiliated “Yes, sir”, and proceed to wrestle the bow out of her hair in front of everybody. The rest of us just sat there and DID NOT SAY A THING. We all told ourselves, “It’s for her own good–it’s for her own good–it’s for her own good…”
A similar event took place when a young girl wore a beret to class. She did not deserve to be treated the way she was, but again we all just sat there.
If the victim(s) of either of these crimes are reading these words, I am asking for your forgiveness. You are in good company, and are among hundreds of people who have been pushed, stepped on, shouted down and abused by this cult leader. I am ashamed of myself for not being a man and standing up for the innocent against the evil. I am regretful every day that I did not rise from my seat and ask that wicked old fiend, “Just WHO — do you THINK — you ARE?”
Please forgive me. Please forgive those of us who sat in the back and knew what was happening to you. I am sorry. I am not merely using your experience to make a point of my own. I am sorry. It brings tears to my eyes to think of it now, and I wish…
The so-called “ministry” of RW Davis is a carnal business plan intended to create a personal empire based on himself. To accomplish this, he relies on intimidation, fear, and the fiction of his godly calling and authority. The entire affair is grounded in a single Old Testament concept which is summarized thusly (if you have heard him say it once, you have heard him say it a hundred times): “My head is harder than yours.” This is why his most ardent supporters and emulators are little more than abusive program pushers who simply DO NOT CARE who they step on to get what they want.
Davis and his toads have offended Christ’s little ones, and at the judgement seat of Christ he will beg that a stone be tied around his neck so that he might be mercifuly cast into the sea rather than to face the suffering and loss brought on as a consequence of his many sins.