I know this post may ruffle feathers.

It may cost me relationships.

Some will disagree with me, and that’s their right.

But there are times when remaining silent would trouble my conscience more than speaking.

Over the past few days, I’ve watched the discussion surrounding the incident involving Rev. Tony Spell. I’ve listened to the explanations. I’ve read the comments. I’ve watched the longer video. I’ve tried to understand both sides of the argument.

And after doing so, my spirit remains grieved.

Before I go any further, let me be transparent.

I was raised in Apostolic Pentecost. I’ve attended Apostolic churches for more than five decades. I love the Apostolic message. I am not writing as a critic looking for faults in the movement. I’m writing as someone who considers himself part of it.

I fully understand the claims that the individual involved had allegedly harassed Pastor Spell, his family, and members of his congregation for years.

If that is true, it is wrong.

It is sinful.

It is inexcusable.

But the question before us is not whether the alleged harassment was wrong.

The question is whether the response was appropriate for a minister of the Gospel.

Those are not the same question.

What has troubled me most is not the incident itself.

What has troubled me most is the number of Christians defending it.

I have seen people compare this to Jesus cleansing the Temple.

I respectfully disagree.

Jesus cleansing the Temple was not a personal dispute. It was not retaliation. It was not settling a score with someone who had offended Him. It was a prophetic act against corruption in God’s house.

The same Jesus who overturned tables also allowed Himself to be mocked, falsely accused, beaten, and crucified without retaliation.

As ministers and Christians, we cannot build our theology around one moment of righteous indignation while ignoring a lifetime of teaching on forgiveness, self-control, mercy, and loving our enemies.

In fact, I keep finding myself drawn back to Paul’s words in Romans 12:

“Repay no one evil for evil. Have regard for good things in the sight of all men. If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men. Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,’ says the Lord.”

Those words are not written for people who are being treated fairly.

They are written for people who have been wronged.

They are written for people who have been insulted, mistreated, falsely accused, provoked, and hurt.

Paul does not tell believers that evil is acceptable.

He does not tell them to pretend wrongdoing never happened.

But he does tell them that vengeance belongs to God.

That is precisely what makes these verses so difficult.

Anyone can be gracious when treated kindly.

The true test of Christian character is how we respond when we are treated unjustly.

The question is not whether someone was provoked.

The question is whether the response reflected the teachings of Christ.

As believers—and especially as ministers of the Gospel—we are called not merely to avoid evil, but to overcome evil with good.

Perhaps what troubles me most is that many of the same people defending this behavior would condemn it if it involved a church member, a politician they disliked, or someone from another denomination.

Our standards should not change based on who commits the act.

A person’s title does not make an action righteous.

Being a pastor does not place someone above accountability.

In fact, Scripture teaches the opposite.

Pastors are called to a higher standard, not a lower one.

You may disagree with me, and that’s okay.

But I cannot watch this unfold, watch Christians celebrate it, and pretend that I am not deeply troubled by what I have seen.

I pray for everyone involved.

I pray for truth.

I pray for healing.

And I pray that we never become so loyal to personalities that we lose our commitment to biblical principles.

Because in the end, the question is not whether someone was provoked.

The question is whether we are willing to hold ourselves—and those we admire—to the same standard Scripture requires of everyone else.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
Romans 12:21

Last summer while visiting Wyoming, I found myself standing in front of three old buildings.

All three were historic.
All three had survived for more than a century.
Yet each one told a very different story.

The first building, in Saratoga, showed the effects of years of neglect. The paint was gone. Windows were broken. Parts of the structure appeared abandoned. While there was likely still a solid framework underneath, it was clear that extensive work would be required if the building was to remain standing for future generations.

The second building, in Cheyenne, was in the middle of restoration. Construction chutes hung from upper windows. Workers were removing debris accumulated through decades of wear and deterioration. Exposed brick revealed scars hidden behind newer coverings. It wasn’t beautiful yet, but something important was happening.

The third building, also in Cheyenne, had already undergone a complete restoration. Built in 1887, it had been carefully rebuilt and modernized while preserving its original character. The roof, plumbing, electrical systems, and mechanical infrastructure had all been replaced or upgraded. The historic details remained, but everything necessary for the future had been renewed.

Standing there, I realized I wasn’t just looking at buildings.

I was looking at people.

I was looking at myself.

And perhaps I was looking at you.

Some people are living in the first building.

Not because they intended to end up there.

No one plans to neglect their relationship with God.

It happens slowly.

A prayer skipped here.
A compromise accepted there.
A neglected Bible.
An ignored conviction.
A growing distance from the things that once mattered.

Years later, they look around and wonder how they drifted so far.

The structure is still standing, but the signs of neglect are becoming difficult to ignore.

Others are living in the second building.

God has begun the restoration process.

The old habits are being removed.
The hidden issues are being exposed.
The debris is being carried away.

Yet this stage can be frustrating because it often looks worse before it looks better.

Walls come down.

Scars become visible.

Things long hidden are suddenly exposed to the light.

Many people become discouraged during this season because they mistake the mess of construction for failure.

But demolition is often the first evidence that restoration has begun.

You don’t remove damaged materials because the building is worthless.

You remove them because the building is worth saving.

Then there are those living in the third building.

Not perfect.

Not without history.

Not pretending the damage never happened.

But restored.

Renewed.

Useful once again.

The interesting thing about restored buildings is that many still bear evidence of the years they endured. Certain marks remain. Certain scars can still be found if you know where to look.

The same is true in our walk with God.

The Lord does not erase our testimony.

He redeems it.

The failures become lessons.

The wounds become wisdom.

The scars become reminders of His grace.

When God looks at a broken life, He does not see a condemned structure waiting for demolition.

He sees a masterpiece worth restoring.

He sees what can be rebuilt.

He sees what can be redeemed.

And perhaps the most encouraging truth is this:

The restored building was not saved because it was already beautiful.

It was restored because someone saw value in it when others might have only seen a teardown.

That is exactly what God has done for every one of us.

The question is not whether you have damage.

The question is which building best describes where you are today.

The neglected one?

The one under construction?

Or the one that stands as evidence of what the Master Builder can do?

⸻

Final Word

God never asked us to restore ourselves. He simply asks us to place our lives in His hands. Whether you’re barely standing, surrounded by the dust of renovation, or walking in the beauty of restoration, the Master Builder is still at work.