"Things My Calvinist Pastor Said" Conclusion: Our Resignation From Our Church
(This "Things My Calvinist Pastor Said" series is a breakdown of this much longer post: "We Left Our Church Because of Calvinism," which was written last year but updated July 2020. All memes were created with imgflip.)
Conclusion:
Anyway, it's finally final. We sent our resignation letter in yesterday, simply stating that "due to strong doctrinal disagreements with the head pastor, we are resigning from our membership here."
We've been at that church for almost 20 years. We've found some good friends there, raised our kids together, loved inviting people to visit our church with us, been part of some great programs, etc. It's really been a great church. One of the best and most biblical in the area.
And then this pastor came in with his Calvinism. And after several years of being angry with his manipulative tactics and his twisted-Gospel which turns God into an illogical, contradictory liar, we can no longer stand to be there. We can no longer support that pastor and his twisted view of God and the Gospel. We don't even want our names on the membership list, giving the appearance that we support him.
Before we left, we sent a long letter to the elders about our concerns, clearly laying out why we believe he shouldn't be so dogmatic about about his views. Yet since then, he's only gotten more dogmatic (which I guessed would happen). And no one seems to be trying to reign him in or to keep things more "middle of the road," which is supposedly the official EFCA stance on this issue. (Here's new info about that. And apparently, most, if not all, of the elders are Calvinists too. So it's pretty much a losing battle for us.)
I don't want to give the impression that this wasn't a struggle for us, coming to the conclusions and the decisions we did. It was a big struggle. It was heart-crushing. For both my husband and I. We both were excited about the new pastor. We trusted him. Our friends were the elders. And when we heard the little "alarming" things in the beginning, we brushed it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking, "No, he can't be saying what I think he's saying." But then he'd say a little more and then a little more, slowly over time, and our hearts and minds were sending up little distress signals all the time, feeling like something wasn't right but we couldn't put our fingers on it.
My husband said that as time went on, he got more and more distressed, wondering if what the pastor was saying was really true and how he could have missed it all along, feeling like what he'd thought about the Bible, the Gospel, and God all along was being shaken up, crumbling. He wanted to trust the pastor because the pastor was so intelligent and confident and well-spoken, but he couldn't wrap his head around what he was hearing. It didn't fit with what he'd known about God all along. And it was creating a crisis of faith.
I, on the other hand, started looking up everything the pastor was saying, every verse he was referencing. And as I saw the difference between how the pastor used the verse and what the Bible clearly said, I started getting angry. And the angrier I got, the more I researched. I hadn't yet known what Calvinism was or realized the pastor was teaching Calvinism (because he never used that word or identified himself that way), I just knew something was wrong and that I couldn't agree with what he was teaching.
At one point, though, as I got deeper into my research, the thought hit me, "Oh no! What if all the theologians or preachers agree with him? What if they all believe this stuff and I just missed it all this time? What if I'm the only one who sees things the way I do, and there's no educated theologian to back me up?"
All of a sudden, I doubted myself, feeling like maybe I was way out in left-field all alone but didn't know it, especially as I would hear the moans of agreement and the "Amens" and "Hallelujahs" coming from the congregation in response to the very things that distressed me because they sounded so wrong. And so I had to know if there was any well-known theologian/pastor who saw things my way, who would disagree with the views my pastor was preaching.
And so I knew I had to look up some Big Name pastors to see what their theology was. And of course, Big Name after Big Name turned out to be Calvinist. (I never really listened to these pastors before, I just knew that they were Big Names in the field of theology. Here's a list of popular Calvinists.)
I was getting really concerned.
But there was one pastor I was particularly drawn to, who I've always liked and respected, and I needed to know what he thought. And if he seemed to teach the same things my pastor was saying, then I knew I'd have to start considering if I was wrong all along, if Calvinism was really true. I was quite a bit freaked out at the idea of doing this. Because I knew that if I found out he agreed with my pastor, then I'd have a real crisis of faith. I knew my faith would crumble and that I'd never be able to trust or know for myself what the truth was anymore. I knew I'd have to start swallowing the garbage I was hearing, even though it was repulsive.
And so I dug down into the books and teachings of Dr. Tony Evans. And - Thank God - I could tell that he didn't teach this stuff, that he had a different, truly biblical view of God and His sovereignty (that God works sovereignly in two ways, either by causing things, but never sin or unbelief, or by just allowing things, like sin and unbelief) and the Gospel Message (that Jesus died for all and that salvation is available for all, but it's our choice to accept it or reject it).
That one man gave me the spark of hope I needed, helping me trust that I was seeing things clearly, that the Bible made sense and was easy to understand. He gave me the support and courage (even though he doesn't know it) to keep going forward with my research, knowing that the path I was on was solid and biblical.
When I get to heaven, one of the first people I'm going to seek out is Dr. Evans. I want to give him a big hug and say "Thank you. You helped me and my faith more than you'll ever know."
Of course, it wasn't easy to disagree with our pastor and friends and to know we had to say something. But we knew we were responsible to at least make them aware of our concerns. If we believed that the church was going off the rails but we didn't say anything, then that would be on us. We couldn't make them see things our way, but we had to at least share what we were thinking before we abruptly left the church.
Unfortunately, it took us 6 years to do it, because we took a lot of time to carefully listen to the pastor, to research what he said, to really know what the Bible said and why we disagree with him. All that took time. Precious time, while the pastor was entrenching himself and his views into the church, deeper and deeper. And by the time we spoke up, it was too late.
And it's not like we ran around bad-mouthing the pastor to everyone or anything like that. We were very careful to only say a little bit to a few people, simply giving them a hint that we disagreed with the pastor. And then if they wanted to know more, we would tell them. But if they didn't, we would drop it. We were very careful to not be divisive and to not ruin other people's enjoyment of that church. I didn't want to distress anyone else or shake up their faith or their confidence in that church, if God was using it to help them. After all, God can use anything, even heresy, to help further His Kingdom.
And so we were careful in what we said and to whom. (But this "don't be divisive" thing is used by Calvinist preachers sometimes to keep people quiet and to keep them from leaving the church. It's not so much that they don't want to divide, it's that they don't want you causing trouble for them or sharing your views with others. And I believe they hope that they can keep you there long enough, nice and quiet, until you come around to seeing things their way. But some things are worth dividing over. And a false gospel is one of them!)
But it seemed that most people didn't want to know. Most were getting more and more enamored with that pastor. And so all we could do was let them be, simply making sure that they knew that we had reasons to disagree with him. (It was really, really hard to have all this information but almost no one to share it with!)
(And after we left, I did post an online review for that church pointing out that it's being taken over by Calvinism, that the pastor doesn't seem to tolerate other opinions on it, and that people should research this theology for themselves to see if they think it's biblical or not. I have done all I can to reasonably, politely share what I have to say. I've feel like I've done what God's asked me to do. Now it's up to the people.)
So, we tried. But the handwriting's been on the wall for a long time. And it got much more obvious when someone at church deleted a very biblically-based comment I left on the pastor's post on predestination on the church blog, where I disagreed biblically with his view of predestination. It was there for a few hours and then it was gone. That was the beginning of the end for us. There is no room for disagreement or for discussion on this issue at this church. And they clearly don't want the congregation being exposed to other ideas on this. (Can you say 'cult'!?!)
And now, sadly, we must shake the dust off our feet as we leave, and let them be responsible for the church they want to have. But we want no part of it anymore. This is a big loss for us. It affects our friendships, our kids' friendships, the programs they were involved in, the programs my husband volunteered in, our ability to worship together as a family on Sundays (we are all kinda scattered now, some stay home, some go to kids' classes, some don't know what to do), and the future that we envisioned for our family.
When we first sent the letter of resigning our membership, I was thrilled. I felt light and free in a way I haven't in a long time. I was floating on air as I walked the aisles while grocery shopping. Honestly, I couldn't stop smiling. And I still feel that way - light and free, thrilled to finally have it be over, feeling like a huge burden has been lifted off, like I don't have to fight it anymore. It's been a long road, a frustrating journey with this pastor. And I am immensely glad it's over. I can finally breathe again!
But I also want to cry. I want to cry over what Calvinism does to the Gospel, to God's character, to Jesus's sacrifice, to people's faith. And I want to cry over what Calvinism did to my wonderful church, the place we cherished and enjoyed and respected and committed to for almost 20 years. I want to cry over how so many Christians are simply opening their minds wide to this horrible theology, unwilling to question it, failing to explore it more for themselves, because Calvinist pastors and theologians have shamed them into accepting it. Or at least into keeping quiet about their concerns and doubts.
And I want to cry for what Calvinism's done to my family. I don't like changes and endings. I've had enough of that with my family-of-origin, with losing three (soon-to-be four) dads to divorce, and having family members scatter everywhere, and no one gets together anymore. I don't like changes. I don't like feeling alone and misunderstood and like I don't understand the Gospel and like I am the problem. I don't like not being able to worship with my whole family on Sunday, unable to attend church together. (Some of us have been staying home and simply watching Tony Evans sermons online. I love this man and his preaching! I thank God for him! I am more refreshed staying at home watching him with my kids than I am going to Calvi-church alongside a bunch of friends, listening to our soul-sucking and faith-destroying Calvi-pastor. I can't even listen to his good sermons anymore because I know what his fundamental beliefs are, beliefs which negate the good things he says.)
But ... there's no other way. This is the way it had to be. If they want Calvinism at that church, then that's their problem now. I tried. I have been angry about it for years. And I am done now. No more throwing pearls to pigs. (Hey, I didn't come up with that analogy; Jesus did!)
[Update July 2020: It's now been over a year since we left church. And I don't miss it at all. Of course, I miss the fellowship, but I don't miss the soul-sucking, heart-damaging Calvinism. I don't miss seeing the congregation eating it all up. I don't miss the frustration of trying to wake others up but having no one listen or care. (The funny this is that if my church did listen to me, I wouldn't have started writing against Calvinism. I started writing against it out of the frustration that no one there cared or would listen. So their resistance actually helped spread anti-Calvinism. Well done, Calvinists!) And so I have been loving staying at home, watching Tony Evans online.
And now, because of the coronavirus, my whole family has been staying home and watching too. And it's been wonderful. To have us all snuggled up on the couch, watching the same message, being able to talk about it and about any new insights it brings up. We didn't get that when we all went to our own separate classes at church. And honestly, I have no intention of going back to a church building any time soon, not with either Calvinism or "watered-down, ear-tickling compromises" taking over all the churches out there. I think I'd love to do church a little different from now on, to simply meet with one or two other families in our homes in a small-group fashion, watching and discussing godly, accurate, inspiring sermons online. That would be wonderful! Maybe someday. But for now, I am loving just being home with my family, healing from the damage Calvinism has done.
I've said this before and I'll say it again: If you don't see a problem with the Calvinist view of the Bible, then you either don't really understand Calvinism or you don't really understand the Bible!
There's no other way to say it!
At the end of the day, while I am still sad about how things turned out, I consider it an honor to be able to lose these things for the sake of the Gospel. To have the chance to stand up for Truth and for God's character and for Jesus's sacrifice in a big way.
When you really understand Calvinism and when you really understand what God's Word actually says, you'll know why it makes me want to cry, why I call it "brilliant satanic lies," and why I speak out against it so strongly!
Some things are worth the sacrifice!
(Also see "Did Our Church Handle Is Wrong When We Left?" and a post on the ESV Bible, a favorite translation of Calvinists.)
And all the others are from various other posts of mine, made on imgflip.)
Conclusion:
Anyway, it's finally final. We sent our resignation letter in yesterday, simply stating that "due to strong doctrinal disagreements with the head pastor, we are resigning from our membership here."
We've been at that church for almost 20 years. We've found some good friends there, raised our kids together, loved inviting people to visit our church with us, been part of some great programs, etc. It's really been a great church. One of the best and most biblical in the area.
And then this pastor came in with his Calvinism. And after several years of being angry with his manipulative tactics and his twisted-Gospel which turns God into an illogical, contradictory liar, we can no longer stand to be there. We can no longer support that pastor and his twisted view of God and the Gospel. We don't even want our names on the membership list, giving the appearance that we support him.
Before we left, we sent a long letter to the elders about our concerns, clearly laying out why we believe he shouldn't be so dogmatic about about his views. Yet since then, he's only gotten more dogmatic (which I guessed would happen). And no one seems to be trying to reign him in or to keep things more "middle of the road," which is supposedly the official EFCA stance on this issue. (Here's new info about that. And apparently, most, if not all, of the elders are Calvinists too. So it's pretty much a losing battle for us.)
I don't want to give the impression that this wasn't a struggle for us, coming to the conclusions and the decisions we did. It was a big struggle. It was heart-crushing. For both my husband and I. We both were excited about the new pastor. We trusted him. Our friends were the elders. And when we heard the little "alarming" things in the beginning, we brushed it off, giving him the benefit of the doubt, thinking, "No, he can't be saying what I think he's saying." But then he'd say a little more and then a little more, slowly over time, and our hearts and minds were sending up little distress signals all the time, feeling like something wasn't right but we couldn't put our fingers on it.
My husband said that as time went on, he got more and more distressed, wondering if what the pastor was saying was really true and how he could have missed it all along, feeling like what he'd thought about the Bible, the Gospel, and God all along was being shaken up, crumbling. He wanted to trust the pastor because the pastor was so intelligent and confident and well-spoken, but he couldn't wrap his head around what he was hearing. It didn't fit with what he'd known about God all along. And it was creating a crisis of faith.
I, on the other hand, started looking up everything the pastor was saying, every verse he was referencing. And as I saw the difference between how the pastor used the verse and what the Bible clearly said, I started getting angry. And the angrier I got, the more I researched. I hadn't yet known what Calvinism was or realized the pastor was teaching Calvinism (because he never used that word or identified himself that way), I just knew something was wrong and that I couldn't agree with what he was teaching.
At one point, though, as I got deeper into my research, the thought hit me, "Oh no! What if all the theologians or preachers agree with him? What if they all believe this stuff and I just missed it all this time? What if I'm the only one who sees things the way I do, and there's no educated theologian to back me up?"
All of a sudden, I doubted myself, feeling like maybe I was way out in left-field all alone but didn't know it, especially as I would hear the moans of agreement and the "Amens" and "Hallelujahs" coming from the congregation in response to the very things that distressed me because they sounded so wrong. And so I had to know if there was any well-known theologian/pastor who saw things my way, who would disagree with the views my pastor was preaching.
And so I knew I had to look up some Big Name pastors to see what their theology was. And of course, Big Name after Big Name turned out to be Calvinist. (I never really listened to these pastors before, I just knew that they were Big Names in the field of theology. Here's a list of popular Calvinists.)
I was getting really concerned.
But there was one pastor I was particularly drawn to, who I've always liked and respected, and I needed to know what he thought. And if he seemed to teach the same things my pastor was saying, then I knew I'd have to start considering if I was wrong all along, if Calvinism was really true. I was quite a bit freaked out at the idea of doing this. Because I knew that if I found out he agreed with my pastor, then I'd have a real crisis of faith. I knew my faith would crumble and that I'd never be able to trust or know for myself what the truth was anymore. I knew I'd have to start swallowing the garbage I was hearing, even though it was repulsive.
And so I dug down into the books and teachings of Dr. Tony Evans. And - Thank God - I could tell that he didn't teach this stuff, that he had a different, truly biblical view of God and His sovereignty (that God works sovereignly in two ways, either by causing things, but never sin or unbelief, or by just allowing things, like sin and unbelief) and the Gospel Message (that Jesus died for all and that salvation is available for all, but it's our choice to accept it or reject it).
That one man gave me the spark of hope I needed, helping me trust that I was seeing things clearly, that the Bible made sense and was easy to understand. He gave me the support and courage (even though he doesn't know it) to keep going forward with my research, knowing that the path I was on was solid and biblical.
When I get to heaven, one of the first people I'm going to seek out is Dr. Evans. I want to give him a big hug and say "Thank you. You helped me and my faith more than you'll ever know."
Of course, it wasn't easy to disagree with our pastor and friends and to know we had to say something. But we knew we were responsible to at least make them aware of our concerns. If we believed that the church was going off the rails but we didn't say anything, then that would be on us. We couldn't make them see things our way, but we had to at least share what we were thinking before we abruptly left the church.
Unfortunately, it took us 6 years to do it, because we took a lot of time to carefully listen to the pastor, to research what he said, to really know what the Bible said and why we disagree with him. All that took time. Precious time, while the pastor was entrenching himself and his views into the church, deeper and deeper. And by the time we spoke up, it was too late.
And it's not like we ran around bad-mouthing the pastor to everyone or anything like that. We were very careful to only say a little bit to a few people, simply giving them a hint that we disagreed with the pastor. And then if they wanted to know more, we would tell them. But if they didn't, we would drop it. We were very careful to not be divisive and to not ruin other people's enjoyment of that church. I didn't want to distress anyone else or shake up their faith or their confidence in that church, if God was using it to help them. After all, God can use anything, even heresy, to help further His Kingdom.
And so we were careful in what we said and to whom. (But this "don't be divisive" thing is used by Calvinist preachers sometimes to keep people quiet and to keep them from leaving the church. It's not so much that they don't want to divide, it's that they don't want you causing trouble for them or sharing your views with others. And I believe they hope that they can keep you there long enough, nice and quiet, until you come around to seeing things their way. But some things are worth dividing over. And a false gospel is one of them!)
But it seemed that most people didn't want to know. Most were getting more and more enamored with that pastor. And so all we could do was let them be, simply making sure that they knew that we had reasons to disagree with him. (It was really, really hard to have all this information but almost no one to share it with!)
(And after we left, I did post an online review for that church pointing out that it's being taken over by Calvinism, that the pastor doesn't seem to tolerate other opinions on it, and that people should research this theology for themselves to see if they think it's biblical or not. I have done all I can to reasonably, politely share what I have to say. I've feel like I've done what God's asked me to do. Now it's up to the people.)
We weren't asking or hoping for much. We weren't expecting them to change everything for us. What we really wanted by bringing all this up was to get the people in church talking about this issue amongst themselves. We wanted them to be able to discuss both sides, to research it for themselves, to have lively, friendly, thought-provoking discussions about it, digging deeper into the Word for answers. We wanted them to know that someone disagreed with the pastor and that they had the right to disagree too. We wanted them to realize that there was another way to look at this issue, which the pastor won't even acknowledge. He always presents his view on this highly-debatable subject with an attitude of "my way is the only right way, and you can either get angry about it, ignore it, or accept it." There is no room for disagreement. And this is wrong! Why not let the people discuss it? Why not let them have friendly debates over it? Why not let them disagree? (If his way is so clearly accurate, it shouldn't hurt him at all.)
So, we tried. But the handwriting's been on the wall for a long time. And it got much more obvious when someone at church deleted a very biblically-based comment I left on the pastor's post on predestination on the church blog, where I disagreed biblically with his view of predestination. It was there for a few hours and then it was gone. That was the beginning of the end for us. There is no room for disagreement or for discussion on this issue at this church. And they clearly don't want the congregation being exposed to other ideas on this. (Can you say 'cult'!?!)
And now, sadly, we must shake the dust off our feet as we leave, and let them be responsible for the church they want to have. But we want no part of it anymore. This is a big loss for us. It affects our friendships, our kids' friendships, the programs they were involved in, the programs my husband volunteered in, our ability to worship together as a family on Sundays (we are all kinda scattered now, some stay home, some go to kids' classes, some don't know what to do), and the future that we envisioned for our family.
When we first sent the letter of resigning our membership, I was thrilled. I felt light and free in a way I haven't in a long time. I was floating on air as I walked the aisles while grocery shopping. Honestly, I couldn't stop smiling. And I still feel that way - light and free, thrilled to finally have it be over, feeling like a huge burden has been lifted off, like I don't have to fight it anymore. It's been a long road, a frustrating journey with this pastor. And I am immensely glad it's over. I can finally breathe again!
But I also want to cry. I want to cry over what Calvinism does to the Gospel, to God's character, to Jesus's sacrifice, to people's faith. And I want to cry over what Calvinism did to my wonderful church, the place we cherished and enjoyed and respected and committed to for almost 20 years. I want to cry over how so many Christians are simply opening their minds wide to this horrible theology, unwilling to question it, failing to explore it more for themselves, because Calvinist pastors and theologians have shamed them into accepting it. Or at least into keeping quiet about their concerns and doubts.
And I want to cry for what Calvinism's done to my family. I don't like changes and endings. I've had enough of that with my family-of-origin, with losing three (soon-to-be four) dads to divorce, and having family members scatter everywhere, and no one gets together anymore. I don't like changes. I don't like feeling alone and misunderstood and like I don't understand the Gospel and like I am the problem. I don't like not being able to worship with my whole family on Sunday, unable to attend church together. (Some of us have been staying home and simply watching Tony Evans sermons online. I love this man and his preaching! I thank God for him! I am more refreshed staying at home watching him with my kids than I am going to Calvi-church alongside a bunch of friends, listening to our soul-sucking and faith-destroying Calvi-pastor. I can't even listen to his good sermons anymore because I know what his fundamental beliefs are, beliefs which negate the good things he says.)
But ... there's no other way. This is the way it had to be. If they want Calvinism at that church, then that's their problem now. I tried. I have been angry about it for years. And I am done now. No more throwing pearls to pigs. (Hey, I didn't come up with that analogy; Jesus did!)
[Update July 2020: It's now been over a year since we left church. And I don't miss it at all. Of course, I miss the fellowship, but I don't miss the soul-sucking, heart-damaging Calvinism. I don't miss seeing the congregation eating it all up. I don't miss the frustration of trying to wake others up but having no one listen or care. (The funny this is that if my church did listen to me, I wouldn't have started writing against Calvinism. I started writing against it out of the frustration that no one there cared or would listen. So their resistance actually helped spread anti-Calvinism. Well done, Calvinists!) And so I have been loving staying at home, watching Tony Evans online.
And now, because of the coronavirus, my whole family has been staying home and watching too. And it's been wonderful. To have us all snuggled up on the couch, watching the same message, being able to talk about it and about any new insights it brings up. We didn't get that when we all went to our own separate classes at church. And honestly, I have no intention of going back to a church building any time soon, not with either Calvinism or "watered-down, ear-tickling compromises" taking over all the churches out there. I think I'd love to do church a little different from now on, to simply meet with one or two other families in our homes in a small-group fashion, watching and discussing godly, accurate, inspiring sermons online. That would be wonderful! Maybe someday. But for now, I am loving just being home with my family, healing from the damage Calvinism has done.
Update November 2020: We just started meeting with another family, "home church" style, and it's been great, just reading Scripture and discussing it together. So simple, pure, and refreshing.]
There's no other way to say it!
At the end of the day, while I am still sad about how things turned out, I consider it an honor to be able to lose these things for the sake of the Gospel. To have the chance to stand up for Truth and for God's character and for Jesus's sacrifice in a big way.
When you really understand Calvinism and when you really understand what God's Word actually says, you'll know why it makes me want to cry, why I call it "brilliant satanic lies," and why I speak out against it so strongly!
And if I may say this to our wonderful Calvinist friends at this church, who are some of the sweetest, most humble, most God-honoring people I know:
We can still be friends even if we think each other's theology is heretical and not biblically-accurate. Because neither of us has tried to force it on the other as "the only way to view the Bible." It's just our pastor who's been doing this, sowing discord and causing division, making it seem as if his view of the Bible is the only view we can have, not allowing disagreement. And it's such a shame. It didn't have to be this way. But he's forcing it to be this way, which is why we had no choice but to leave our church.
And sadly, as more of us who disagree with the pastor leave, your church will only become more Calvinist, more off-track. But you won't know there's a problem with your theology because you silenced or scared off all those who disagreed with it. It will seem like you have peace and consensus on the Gospel, but that's just because you didn't tolerate dissent and because no one is left to tell you you're wrong. It'll be the blind leading the blind, all falling into a pit together!
Yes, it hurts and it's a loss for our family. But it's an honor. And I am thrilled to have been able to research this topic so very deeply and thoroughly so that I now have real answers for what I believe and for why I believe Calvinism is heresy. So that I can raise my kids up in true Gospel Truth. Before all this, I could only hope that Calvinism was wrong. And I didn't really have much to back me up. But now I know that it's wrong. And I know how it's wrong and why it's wrong and how they manipulate and trap people. And I have tons to back me up. And because I know it's so wickedly wrong, I can boldly say, "I'd rather leave this church, even if it means never attending another one again, than look like I agree with the Calvinist garbage being taught here!" We can still be friends even if we think each other's theology is heretical and not biblically-accurate. Because neither of us has tried to force it on the other as "the only way to view the Bible." It's just our pastor who's been doing this, sowing discord and causing division, making it seem as if his view of the Bible is the only view we can have, not allowing disagreement. And it's such a shame. It didn't have to be this way. But he's forcing it to be this way, which is why we had no choice but to leave our church.
And sadly, as more of us who disagree with the pastor leave, your church will only become more Calvinist, more off-track. But you won't know there's a problem with your theology because you silenced or scared off all those who disagreed with it. It will seem like you have peace and consensus on the Gospel, but that's just because you didn't tolerate dissent and because no one is left to tell you you're wrong. It'll be the blind leading the blind, all falling into a pit together!
Some things are worth the sacrifice!
(Also see "Did Our Church Handle Is Wrong When We Left?" and a post on the ESV Bible, a favorite translation of Calvinists.)
