Re: Breaking Points
Here is a post by budomanche posted on Escape From the Fellowship.
[Does anyone want to write about one or more of theirs?]
Mike Mastin asked me one time would I come to his house and put his dog down. The poor thing was old, blind and could hardly feed
itself. Not Mastin...the dog. I felt so honoured that the leader of the entire Australian fellowship had invited me to his house to perform this service, albeit a sad one for the dog.
As I was leaving my curiosity got the better of me because being
truthful, I was pretty ignorant of the politics that were being played out in Beechboro at the time. I told him although I was probably imagining it, I couldn't help but sense Tilli and Hounslow were hinting at things during sermons and leaders meetings. I couldn't believe the sudden reaction that came over him, it was the Nebuchadnezzar syndrome being played out in front of me. I only wish I could portray the anger and hatred that accompanied his words.
After all those years of listening to him telling us just to be faithful labourers...after all it's God that builds His church. He just wants us to be the vessel. Well he totally lost it. Ranted and raving how HE had built that church from the ground up. How He had set the foundations and established the relationships and now Tilli, Hounslow and others were pulling the rug from underneath him. He was so flushed with anger.
I looked at his hands half expecting his fingernails to grow and
waited for him to drop to the ground and start chewing the lawn.
I think that was then that my naivity started to enter into the real
Here is a post by George Potkonyak posted on Escape From the Fellowship.
[Mike Mastin asked me one time would I come to his house and put his dog down. The poor thing was old, blind and could hardly feed itself. Not Mastin...the dog.]
I saw Mike only once when he visited Sydney. He looked more like a top-notch director of one of those multi-national companies. Walsh nearly fell on his face before Mike in worship.
A vision of one of those middle age Norman fighters, with a spear in his hand and sitting on a horse just refused to leave me. This guy was just sitting on that horse and apparently posing. I realise that the vision was about Mike: he was a phoney.